the sun looks good on you - solangelo

8- the laugh

i like to listen to him talk and say nothing myself. i don't feel like speaking today and he seems to understand. i give him a cup of coffee and i let him talk and talk.

will talks about things like financial aid for medical students and about his life at college. he talks about his roomate who seems to hate his guts. he talks about his mom who sings country and his dad who is an author. he likes all type of music, he says. yes, even country. yes, even rap. he doesn't listen to any of the screaming stuff, but he respects it. he talks about musical theatre for a while. he tells me that he looks forward to spring break. then maybe he'd have a break and we'll be able to talk more. he tells me that school is stressful and how he wished he could just stay here all day- in the coffee shop.

he babbles on and his eyes are glazed over. but when they look over at me they clear up again. he's tired.

"have you been sleeping?" i ask finally after watching his eyes un-focus themselves again.

"no," he says.

"sleep a little," i tell him. it's nearly midnight.

he tells me he doesn't want to go back until he's sure his roommate is asleep because his roommate hates his guts. and his roommate is likely to be awake.

i give him a hoodie for him to use as a pillow and the coffee shop is so warm and quiet, he falls asleep almost as instantly. his lashes are long and lightly colored. his hands that were clenched into fists relaxed and gracefully laid on the table. some of his golden hair drops in front of his face and it dances with every exhale if breath. i almost want to touch him, but i don't.

the night is relatively quiet with not many customers. hazel isn't here either. i watch will's steady breathing from the corner of my eye. his body heaves up and down over and over again like a metronome. every time he inhales, i hold my breath with him.

the door opens and i see someone familiar and someone i don't recognize.

"good morning, annabeth," i greet her. "haven't seen you in a while. since the launch of your last big project. how come you haven't been visiting me?"

annabeth used to be a regular customer, back when she'd pull all nighters and work endlessly on her huge project. we almost became friends. she'd tell me all about her architectural work and all the big things she had planned. that was it for her. work, work, work.

she and the girl who is with her order a latte and a mocha and they sit quietly in the corner. they talk in a low voice and i pick up a little of their conversation.

i've never seen her with another person before. the girl is slightly dark and tan with short, cropped hair. large earrings gleamed under the dim café lights on her ears. she had an easy going and relaxed demeanor that i envied. i heard annabeth say her name. piper.

even annabeth is developing a life of her own outside of her work. she has friends and family and now maybe a pretty significant other. ever since i've known her, she's only known work. and yet, she seems to be talking so calmly and naturally to her. she's not twisting a ring or scratching her hand. i wish will was awake to talk to me again. i'd love to hear about financial aid or anything but my own thoughts.

my thoughts are okay most of the time but today, they seemed to swallow me.

annabeth and piper leave. annabeth waves at me and i wave back. almost as if we were friends. are we friends? could we be friends?

the café is quiet.

"nico?" his voice rings. my head turns swiftly at his voice without me even having to think. "here's your hoodie back,"

somehow, he had gotten behind me. he's really close to me. at least i know what he smells like now. it's hard to place. it's almost floral with a hint of something woody.

"th-thank you," i stutter. the hoodie is warm in my hands from him leaning on it.

"no, thank you."

i stared at him pointedly. "no, thank you."

"no, you." he says with a little more force.

"no, you." i counter playfully.

"i'm leaving," he says, grinning in spite of himself.

i open the door for him. "then leave."

"thank you," will says, smirking at me at me. my ears and cheeks and neck grows warm. it's as if he's lighting me on fire from the inside out.

i laugh. "fuck off." and shove him lightly out the door. his back is warm against my hand. he turns around and is beaming. his smile is bright enough to power the whole city. why is he looking at me like that? the new york air is chill and cools my hot face a little. he raises his hand to wave and i wave back. i watch his back disappear into the busy street.

my face feels weird. why was his face looking at me weird? why does my chest feels so weird? i touch my chest. no hole. i touch my face. smiling. smiling? do my muscles even remember how to smile? is that why my face feels weird? i relax my face into my usual scowl.

oh my god.

i smiled. i laughed.

i laughed.

that's why he looked at me that way.

i don't know what to make of it.

is it good? bad?

i don't know.

i go home. i take a melatonin gummy. it's sweet and tastes unnatural on my tongue, but it is strawberry flavored and it reminds me of him.

i hardly sleep anyway. my mind is restless thinking about that laugh. did it sound weird? did i do something weird? that look he had on his face sent so many signals that i can't decipher them. even after turning them over and over in my mind, i can't seem to piece myself together.

i sleep and dream of him again. i don't know what about. i just knew that he was there.