Cracking Zeenath

November 16th: I'm Feelin' Nineteen

Extra long chapter and early/extra update to make up for not posting last Tuesday. Please forgive me. ;) 

November 2nd, at the beginning of the month, I sat under the tree for hours, not caring about the time. Tests and essays could wait. I needed a break. I closed my eyes, trying to empty my mind, fill it with music.

One...I breathed in.

Two...I breathed out. Yawned.

Three.

A rustling beside me made me open my eyes.

Damian sat down beside me and I sighed. There goes my privacy. Hurray for freaking art.

He pulled out his notebook and set it on his lap. I looked down at the space between us. There wasn't much. He was close enough for me to feel his body heat, making my whole right side warm. I tensed. Oi. Too close.

He turned to look down at me and I frowned at him. "No. I'm not gonna do art today."

He shrugged, his jacket brushing up against my arm. "Fine. It's not like practicing will do much now. Class's almost over."

I jerked my head back. "Are you giving up on me?"

He gave me a long look, eye boring into my own. I will not look away.

"No." He said, finally. "You're giving up."

I looked away, not liking the weight of that stupid comment. I'm giving up. I sighed and rested my head against the tree trunk. "Fine. I'll start trying again. But not today."

"What's today?"

"...Nothing."

I watched him glide his pencil across the clean, white paper. Slowly, the lines started coming together, intertwining to create thicker, darker strokes that surged together up the paper, forming points. I stared at it. A tree. He was drawing a tree.

I shifted. My butt hurt.

"What're you listening to?"

"Hrmm?" My hand twisted under me and I yelped, bringing it up and massaging my fingers.

He reached over and my head knocked against the tree trunk as his arm crossed over me and pulled out an earbud, putting it in his own ear. I wrinkled my nose at him. "You took my earbud."

He raised an eyebrow. "Am I not allowed to?"

"No." I crossed my arms over my chest.

He took the earbud out, dropped it on my hand, and flipped his notebook closed. I stared at him, surprised. "What're you doing?"

He paused and stared at me. "Didn't you want me to go, Miss Spitfire?"

I frowned, the guilt eating at my gut. "Euh...Stay."

He got up and a panicky feeling started in my stomach. I grabbed his arm and he froze, staring at me.

"Tch. I'm sorry. Stay." I glanced down. "Please?"

Damian chuckled and turned around, sitting back down. "If you insist."

"Urgh..I hate you."

He laughed. "Sure you do."

      We sat in silence, me listening to music while he kept drawing. I drew my legs up and stared at my jeans, studying the tiny white lines running through the blue fabric. He spread his legs outward, resting his left leg against my knee. I stared at it, not knowing what to do as heat flooded through my leg. His thigh rested lightly against my knee...Should I move it?