Tommy

chapter Nine

It was strange of Tommy to wait for Ziva. The previous times he would try to leave earlier to avoid her.

It was cold, the boy noticed, getting his only pair of old gloves out of his bag.
He was used to the cold, though. The boy didn't even shiver.

The heat at home was broken and it didn't looked like Harry was going to get it fixed anytime soon. He looked down at his hands. They were quite big actually. The boy was wearing one of his old jeans that luckily fit him. He had it for years. Of course, he was very careful to not get it dirty. The black shirt he was wearing were holes in, and if the shirt wasn't black you would see traces of dirt that came over the  time he had been wearing it.

Just then the front door of the family Jackson opened. Ziva took a hop from inside to outside. "Aahh," she groaned, looking up at the grey sky.

The girl was wearing a high waisted mom's jeans with a golden belt. Tucked under the jeans was one white shirt with motivational words. As shoes she was wearing white Mary Jane's shoes. She held onto her big bag filled with books as she walked with a goofy smile.

"I like it when you wait for me," she said, teasing Tommy.

A gush of wind came by them, causing Ziva to shiver blowing her hot breath on her hands. "Let's start walking,"she said, starting to walk.

Tommy stopped her by holding her waist, keeping the girl in place. As respond to his touch, Ziva felt like her whole body was on fire. She couldn't get a word out of her mouth. That was until she saw what Tommy was planning.

The mute boy ripped his gloves off his cold hands and handing it to Ziva.

"Oh, no no," Ziva said, refusing them. The poor boy looked like he needed it more.

Tommy shook his head. He grabbed Ziva's hands, holding them softly as he was afraid to break her and put the gloves on her hands. He mimicked her move then; blowing hot breath on her hands that were covered with gloves. He then looked her in her eyes before he let go of her hands.

He didn't minded the cold if he could help her to keep warm.

And Ziva, poor girl didn't had the heart to tell the boy she was still cold with his gloves on. But she didn't wanted to hurt his feelings. Tommy's gloves were black with fluff that came after the years had gone by. A few holes here and there. And it was thin. It also had this weird smell that came after the years of keeping it. But she didn't mind. Because he was sharing something of his with her.

Tommy felt this strange feeling in his body. He felt like he had finally done something good, something usefull in his life. He felt...satisfied. The strange boy was so deep in his own head that he flinched when he felt Ziva's hands covered with his gloves holding his hand.

"You're so cold," she muttered with a pout visable on her lips. Tommy didn't say anything. He just stared at her. He wasn't cold. Maybe he was. But if he was, he didn't felt the cold anymore.