down from five ✔randy

prologue

i watched silently as the brown-eyed boy walked into the room. He wore his black jumper that had one red sleeve and one yellow sleeve.

I watched the way that he manoeuvred his way around the room; walking behind the sofa i'm currently sat on and over to the arm chair next to me. I studied the smile that played upon his lips.

I could tell his smile was genuine.

Whenever he smiled properly, an actual smile, you could see the crinkles by his eyes. You could see that his chocolate eyes lit up when he smiled properly. He turned to look at me.

"Whatcha lookin' at, Andy?" Rye asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I shrugged.

"You?" I answered, but it came out as more of a question.

"And why might you be looking at me?" He asked with a small smile, but I could tell that he was nervous. I saw the way his index finger tapped away anxiously on his knee. I shrugged once more.

"Because you came into my view." I said, squinting my eyes a little. Rye nodded once. I didn't miss the small sigh he let out. I couldn't tell what that sigh meant; was he happy with my answer? disappointed? upset? I didn't know.

I watched as his finger stopped tapping once he began talking to Jack. I noticed all the little things about him.

Like how he couldn't go five minutes without flicking his hair.

Like how he taps his index finger on his left hand when he's anxious or nervous.

Like how he has to have his hairbrush on the right side of the dresser.

I love knowing all the little things about him, about people, that no one else really notices. I've been called 'observant' on many occasions, because I always pick up on the little things.

Well i thought i did.

but there was one thing that i didn't pick up on about Rye.