COMPLETED
All 16 year old Avianna Moorson wanted was an easy flight to sandy and beautiful Australia. No talking, no company and no distractions. But what happens, when the person forced to sit next to her leaves her at a loss for words?
"Some people paint the most beautiful mosaics the world has ever been blessed with and others let melodious symphonies kiss their eardrums and calm the hurricane protruding inside them."
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Hour Eleven
There are people who sit down and rationalize their thoughts, while others shout.
Then there are some people use their fists to convey what their heart cannot.
Some people dance the saddest of waltzes.
While others prefer to be motionless and still, letting only their sobs echo onto walls.
Some people paint the most beautiful mosaics the world has ever been blessed with...
and others let melodious symphonies kiss their earlobes and calm the hurricane protruding inside them.
And it just so happened that both were right beside each other.
So when asked to tell something about herself, Avianna described it in the best way she knew how.
She drew a lavender garden filled with lovely petunias, velvety roses, sparkling blue bells, and grazing tiger lilies.
"That's my garden, you'll find me there mostly. "
"So is it fair to say you have a green thumb?" he leaned back, pleased with his pun.
"Yes of course, " Avianna nudged him, not offended in the slightest.
"And a red thumb, and a pink thumb too?"
"Huh?"
He turned over her hand examining the rainbow splattered on forearm.
"How did that get there?" she searched the rest of her upper body wondering where else her pencil crayons had betrayed her.
He shrugged, taking his headphones off of his ears.
"I see what you're doing."
He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Why, I'm not doing anything. I'm merely pointing out that you have colourful ink on your arm, as do I."
He pulled back his sweater revealing a vibrant sleeve tattoo along his arm. It wasn't menacing, it was interesting and it didn't stretch for long which Avianna appreciated. It wasn't dark or seductive, it was colourful and playful, like a warm summer's day.
Avianna couldn't begin to describe all of the intricate designs. She spotted a leaf, which Logan referred to as the "luck of the Irish". She saw a detailed rose and it reminded her of her favourite movie. The one about not judging a book by its cover and finding the heart beneath everything.
She traced a line with her delicate fingertips through to the bend adjacent from his elbow. "Wow."
"Yeah wow," he repeated. "It hurt like a scorching sunburn when I first got it. But now it's not so bad."
