53: Study date (drabble) [written Saturday 12 December 2015]
She watches him closely, her pen loosely resting in the nook of her curled hand. Her eyes, her doe brown eyes, take in the appearance of her best friend. She wants to write about his parted red lips. She wants to write about his furrowed eyebrows. She wants to write about his somewhat sloping and almost illegible handwriting as he desperately makes his scrawls across the page, but most of all, she wants to laugh. The sight of him is purely comical; it inspires in her an urge to push his pen off the page and watch incredulity take over his features. For some reason he picks that precise moment to look up at her. She’s so caught up in the moment that she doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s been staring. She sees a spark of confusion light itself in his dark obsidian eyes, but it snuffs itself out and is replaced by a fire of comfort and recognition. These windows to the soul, she is so grateful for them. How she is able to discern his emotions while keeping hers so heavily guarded, yet here she is, locked in an intense gaze with him, that she might not see for herself that she is also revealing to him her own personal emotions, insecurities, thoughts. Confusion fills his features as he looks away. His pen slides and makes an ugly scrawl on the side of his page.
She laughs, and the people in the room turn to give her their judgemental looks, but she smiles instead. He is pretending to be fuming, but she can see the twinkle of mischief in his irises and that’s when she knows that they’re going to be okay. Well, she’s going to be okay. For now, that is, until she and her best friend leave the library, and an inevitable tickle fight ensues.