Weeds

Weeds - Chapter Thirty Four

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Elliott sat in front of me his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, they were thick rimmed and dorky but complimented his face nicely. He wore a paisley printed shirt and grey sweat pants that he worked well. 

He scrunched up his nose causing the freckles on his check to become apparent through the magnification of his lenses. 

He was reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows and I pretended to be interested in the homework he had brought me from science class but how could I do homework when he sat beside me being utterly magnificent? 

His loft still had boxes pilled around but it was homey, he had books laying on every counter top but it was toasty warm, we were currently on his couch which was grey and overly stuffed . He bit softly into his thumb which was between his teeth as his hand held his chin. 

I suddenly wondered how he paid for all this? How did he pay his monthly bills and Stinson's and food? Did Kirk pay it for him? 

" Do you have a job?" I asked . 

He looked up from his book and nodded. 

"Where?" 

"I work online, I code for google." 

"Code?" 

"Yeah, I write code to create software programs and stuff like that." 

"Do you enjoy it?" 

He nodded, "Yeah actually I do." 

I nodded and looked down at my homework, what the hell is 3mol? 

Did mol mean molecular? 

Deciding that I had had enough of this absurdity I shut my text book and leaned back on the couch. 

Elliott was reading again. 

"Elliott?" 

"Yes?" He asked stretching out the y. 

"Why are your hands bruised?" 

He sighed but didn’t look up from his book, "No reason in particular." 

"Elliott." 

"Riley." 

"Please tell me." 

He shook his head and out of no where dropped his book and stood up from the couch I watched him get up and walk over to the kitchen which was visible thanks to the open floor concept, "Do you want something to drink or eat?" 

"No thank you." 

He grabbed a cartoon of strawberry milk and walked back over to the couch, he grabbed a poncho he had laying on the chest that acted as a coffee table and spread it over his legs so that it casually covered my lap as well. 

I scooted over and tapped his ankles so that he placed his feet on my lap.  

He obliged and placed my hands over his legs. 

I traced my hand over the thick hairs that I could feel in the spaced between his ankle and the end of his pant leg. 

I had always been a rather rough person, I was never gentle but when I touched Elliott I was always gentle.  

I could never hurt him, not intentionally. 

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, "What are you thinking?"