Thursday, 30 October 2014


"I never could do handstands," I told him, as he was tying my shoe laces. He stopped for a moment, looked up at me and smiled.

"Well you better learn."

I giggle heartily, and feel my cheeks begin to burn. His dark eyes are hidden behind his thick lashes, but I know he sees it too. The heat between us. It's suffocating almost. As I sit a metre away from him, suddenly too aware of my scruffy pair of converse, I can't breathe quietly enough. There's something unsaid between us. My laugh faded and embarrassment sets in. I don't know whether he's being coy, or maybe whether he really does think I'm an idiot.

'Definitely, an idiot.' I think aloud.

He breaks the silence by clearing his throat. I meet his gaze and he grins at me, a soulful, happy grin. And the next thing I know, his hand is in mine. My fingers curled around his, and the edges of my mouth are pointing upwards in amazement and glee.

"Your laugh is wonderful, Em."
"Really? You think so? I always kinda hated it."

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