Into The Night

Twenty-Four

Taylor and I settled on the clear sidewalks, seated in-between a forest and a road. We are both Indian-seated, facing each other under the streetlight and constantly playing with the fallen leaves that came to our range.

It's mostly just the two of us, under the night skies with a few passerby's and cars coming on and go every once in a while. It's quite cold as winter is coming in a month. Nevertheless, I've enjoyed every bit of it and I honestly couldn't find it in myself to care about being with her in the middle of the night at the side of the road. . . I reckon this is what's running through her head as well.

We settled for a little game, we say films, –sequels are not allowed– and if the other one haven't watched that then, the other gets to ask him or her a personal question in which she or he has to answer honestly. She asked me before the game begun what if someone lies, I told her we're just going to have to trust each other and that seemed fair enough for her. So we played the game and on and on we go. It had already been a while so we've started digging into slightly more personal questions.

"The Simpsons movie." I said.

Taylor smiled brightly, "I have. Um, Brave Heart?"

"Aye." I answered and her smile grew wider, "Dead or Alive."

"Yes. Now, The Day After Tomorrow."

"Course." I said with a nod. "Erm, what about Notting Hill?" I asked.

"Not what?" She asked.

"Oh goodness." I muttered. "You haven't watched that?!" I asked, that movie is quite exceptional!

"No." She laughed, throwing her head back. Then she snapped her attention back to me, biting her lower lip, "Okay, your question."

"Alright, erm, given any random weekend, would you give me a chance to let you watch exceptional films back in our dorm?" I asked.

"Yes, definitely." She answered. "That was easy."

I nodded, "Alright, the film?"

"Ghost." She said.

I huffed, "Demi Moore, eh? No, I haven't."

She had this unbelievable look on her face. "Seriously?! You haven't watched that?"

"Yep." I said, chuckling. "Right so, erm, your question."

"Personal question," she muttered, "when you first saw me, what was running through your head? What were you thinking?"

That's easy. I smiled, "I thought," my smile grew wider and I had to prevent myself from laughing. "I thought you looked like Christmas morning. I have no other way to describe it."

She laughed, "Oh my God, I wasn't asking for a movie reference!" She hit me on the chest lightly.

I laughed with her, "Damn it, you're good. How'd you know it was?"

"I've watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith a hundred times, haven't you noticed, most of our references were from that, John?"

Admittedly, she's remarkable. Maybe that answer was a movie reference, but I'd gladly change my perception that day, just so it would be like that. I did think of snow and such, so that should be close, right?

"What's your real answer?" Taylor asked, staring into my eyes.

I licked the bottom of my lips, "A million things, are you from this era? Somewhat you seemed strange, like someone trapped and ordered around and erm—"

"What?"

I looked at her, right to her beautiful blue eyes, "Your eyes, I erm, I thought they are something else."