Page 43 of Playing with Fire

I've never been nice to you until recently.

"See? I knew I was right." he boasts to himself.

I almost laughed before rolling my eyes. Drunk but still managing to be cocky. Just great.

We stay quiet for a few moments. I move from my palms to wipe my hands on my legs while I sit up. I secure my heel strap, and he says something unexpected that surprises me.

"Why don't you look at me?" His voice carried more obvious inflection as he tapped my cheek.

"What?" With confusion written all over my face I ask as I pulled my face away from his finger.

He says that I didn't look at him after we began our conversation. My lips form a slim straight line. He was right.

He hasn't received my attention since I last glanced at his backside moments ago. The sky has been my focus during this entire time.

Making eye contact with those whom I speak to is something I prefer to do. Despite some gaps between his words, he maintains his clarity. As I sigh and turn towards him my eyes meet his gaze which softly illuminate his face while I acknowledge his subtle request to connect with him through eye contact.

The vibrant color of his eyes faded back to its typical dull grey and I found myself at a loss for thoughts. I wasn't sure what I should do with myself, but I gave him my full attention by looking directly at him. And we stayed deafeningly silent.

A few thoughts managed to form in my mind while this situation unfolded. Our interaction consisted of two people making eye contact, but the proximity made it appear more complex than it was.

I now understand that the act of looking at someone exists separately from the simple act of seeing them.

Watching someone gives you a scattered view because you take in multiple things at once. When you look at someone your gaze becomes intentional, and you direct all your attention toward them.

He's completely visible to me but my gaze remains fixed on him. The same is true for him. He has the ability to see me while he directs his gaze toward me.

Straight in the eyes. The artwork displayed simplicity, but he challenged the significance of maintaining eye contact.

It's only now that I've realized his tendency to maintain strong eye contact.

But not in a creepy way. His eyes demonstrate a relaxed state that makes him seem almost asleep.

Eventually I had to acknowledge the intensity of it to myself. I had no idea how much longer I would maintain this gaze, but I couldn't keep it up for much longer.

The contact of his shoulder with mine brings me back to reality. We had gotten closer.

And way too close for comfort.

I instantly sensed a feeling deep inside my stomach which caused my legs to go numb.

I moved backward while turning my head forward to face myself once more.

What the hell?

That's all I could think of.

My mind started an endless race of overthinking our actions and my inner dialogue unless I diverted my thoughts by going off-topic.

"You're weird." I ease out laughing.

Your interpretation of weird as being infuriatingly hot makes sense to me. He compliments himself, and I smirk. There we go, back to normal. Nothing has changed.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I roll my eyes.

"Okay, so tell me." he urges.

"Tell you what?" As I turn my head, I catch sight of him standing exactly where he started.

---