we arent freshman anymore.

there was talk of a plane crash on the little televsion set that was set directly in front of you, and even though it was so tiny, it lit up the room with its despairing words. she looked at him, barely peering scared to see that if she saw him like this, he wouldnt look the same. "do you think the bermuda triangle is real?" "...yeah" there wasnt much room for talk between all the silent breaths, so it didnt really bother her, but she still wished there was more conversation. he was so soft in speech, a suger cube at its best, she just couldnt resist and she beheld all the trust in the world to his palms. and for once in a long time it felt nice. in her head running arould were lyrics from a song quite fit for the occasion "And how can you wake up, With someone you don't love? And not feel slightly fazed by it, Oh, he had a struggle," and they running faster and faster and she didnt know when they would get tired and just stop. more mumbling, more distored faces, more eyes closing and more questions. and then it was getting early, the sun should be up soon and she didnt want risk daylight on her worries, they could expand like the doorframe she would crawl out of. the walk home, she insisted on pretending it meant nothing to her, it was another bullet on her list, another bottled water to her thirst of curiousity. and he took it as that, she couldnt really make out what he thought, he was way too simple for her tastes. before she fell asleep she thought "it could be love, but i'll never let him know, i care for him too much".
the sky was pink, and her eyes shut black.