sporadic tales of the youth

deux.

ii. you know you're not the person you're trying to be.
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-/they don't do shakespearean drama nor telenovela-esque confrontations. they only do halfhearted insults and awkward compliments, yet for youth like them it is more than enough./-

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"Oi."

He starts a bit at the familiar voice, but nonetheless he maintains his blank expression.

"Yo," he greets. No grins, no toothy smirks, no flipping birds; nothing.

He expects her to go away afterwards; instead he hears her footsteps echoing behind him, prompting him to sigh. "What do you want?" he questions, raising his brow.

She sits beside him immediately, casually tossing her bag to the side. "Hostile much?" She grins, to which he doesn't return. Her grin immediately fades and she then sighs afterwards. "Nothing, really. Just need someone to talk to," she responds with a shrug.

He frowns at this. There are so many other people she can talk to, yet she chooses him? Of all people?

Has she forgotten the fact he's her jerky ex-crush or something? Or maybe she just doesn't care? He doesn't know, but he sure knows it's not because she enjoys his company. The fact stings a bit, but then again, it's not like he enjoys her presence as well.

"Why not talk with other people, then?" he asks cautiously.

"Do I even need a reason to talk to you?" she retorts with a laugh as she leans forward.

He hesitates. "Well, it's worth questioning." Seriously, she's too casual for someone she's not supposed to be at ease with.

She shrugs again with a light-hearted smile.

"Well, why won't you talk with other people then?" she returns his question, much to his chagrin.

He rolls his eyes, but he wills himself to play along with her.

"Not in the mood to talk," he replies anyway, leaning back on his arms. Strangely enough, he doesn't want to cut this conversation short.

The other purses her lips and looks at him straight. "And yet here you are talking to me."

He furrows his brows and his lips give way to a shit-eating grin. "I suppose I'll make an exception."

To his surprise, she laughs. "Well, well, well. You're surprisingly quite the charmer," she playfully responds, her head coming to rest on the base of her palm.

He snorts. "Should I be offended?"

Her head tilts to the side with a shrug. "Your choice," she nonchalantly answers.

He shrugs as a comfortable silence lulls over them, which neither of them want to disturb. Their gazes focus on the enthusiastic freshmen sharing stories nearby the bonfire, with the two listening in on their juniors. Along the while, she probably mulls over different ideas and philosophies, whilst he ponders about the well-being of his friends.

The mood between them isn't as awkward as he expects; quite the contrary, he feels homey.

Even if it's her he's with.

A sharp intake of breath pierces the quiet between them moments after, alerting him slightly.

"It's weird that we're stuck in the same cabin, huh?"

His eyes flit towards his companion, whose eyes are contemplative; they're warm—verily so—unlike the usual excitement they emit. He also belatedly notices his hand barely touching hers; by reflex, he scoots his a bit further from that of the latter's.