Just Try to Understand.

"I'm still tired." I said, yawning.

"Go back to sleep then." He responded, and I looked up at him, grinning cheekily.

"Mind if I lean on you again?"

"Uhh... o...kay?" I laughed at the uncertainty in his tone and snuggled up to him. He put an arm across my shoulders hesitantly.

"You're really comfortable to sleep on..." I muttered, the words distorted by another wide yawn.

I felt him shake his head, "I've not had anyone fall asleep on my shoulder in a couple of years. I guess a person can get 'comfy' after a while."

"Mmm..." I mumbled, drifting. He chuckled lightly and I smiled; even through the sleepy haze that laugh still sounded sexy.

I awoke some time later, and a quick glance out of the window told me that my birthday privileges were almost over. The next thing which registered in my mind, after the approximate time,  was just how close I was to Alex. At some point while I slept, I must have looped my free arm around his waist, leaning across his body.

He smiled awkwardly, and looked down at me expectantly.

"Oops. Sorry." I muttered, blushing and pulling away from him, putting some distance between us. "I wasn't supposed to do that."

"It's fine." He said, looking away. Awkward...

That small space on the seat between us had returned. No contact whatsoever. I sighed and thought about my situation some more. I was in a kind of monologue mood again, but I would keep it in my head. I had a feeling I would get more than a few weird looks if I decided to rant aloud.

Ten years is a long time. Ten years is, like, a whole generation. And gross. Just wrong.

Yet right. So, incredibly, right. I glanced at Alex, and caught him looking swiftly away from me. I tried to stop the little smile and flutters in my heart, but I couldn't. It just didn't work.

Damn.

I pulled my legs up onto the seat and wrapped my arms around them, resting my chin on the crevice between my knees. When did life get so complicated?

It's not complicated! This little voice yelled at the back of my head. You're making it complicated, but it doesn't have to be.

I guess that that was probably the voice of either complete insanity or that one that's, like, the opposite to your conscience. Or maybe I just have a lack of conscience.

Of course, it could always be my conscience. I resolved that I would no longer use the word 'conscience', even inside my own head. It was getting repetitive and Edward Cullens of the world would be bored by now.

I laughed aloud at that. 'Edward Cullens of the world'. I knew for a fact that vampires like that didn't exist. Sparkling twits. Or I could just be being racist. There might be loads of different types of vampires in the world, but they're all really secretive, so they don't often meet. Yeah, I'm rambling. Whatcha gunna do about it?

With a sigh, I retrieved my blade from my case and started to slice my finger open again, repeatedly. I hid it, though, so that none of the other passengers on the bus could see. Except Alex, of course.

"What the hell are you doing that for?" He asked, irritably, and I looked up in shock.

"I do it all the time." I could feel my eyes widen with innocence.

He rolled his eyes, and I looked back down at my hands. I'd stopped cutting, and the wounds had healed. It looked like the blood had no source. "Yeah, I noticed that. Why though?"

"A habit." I shrugged.

"It's a habit worse than smoking." He said, voice saturated with disapproval.

I suppressed a giggle. "Not for vampires."

"It's freaking me out. Usually people cut themselves because they're upset... I didn't upset you, did I?" I looked into his eyes, trying to judge his expression. I immediately put the blade away.

"Sorry. I'm just really bored. It's not like it hurts." I muttered, trialing off at the end.

"I didn't upset you?" He seemed confused, like that's what he would've expected.

"No. Why would you think that?"

He laughed, relieved that I put the razor away. "Because you were cutting yourself."

Now I was confused. "But... oh, nevermind. Do you think that there would be a reason for me to be upset?" I struggled to word the question, saying it slowly in my mind over and over before the phrasing came out right.

"I don't know. I've never been able to figure girls out." He smiled slightly - just a tiny up-turning at the corner of his mouth - and I wondered what he was remembering.

I laughed lightheartedly, trying to keep the subject light. "I would have thought Irish guys would have that sussed by now." Winking at him playfully, I was momentarily impressed that my face didn't have a spasm, and I successfully managed to close just one eye without interaction from the rest of my facial features.

"Apparently I've been left behind on that one." I could tell he was getting a little annoyed, and so decided to shut up.

"S'ok." Stupid mouth. "You're laugh redeems you."

"My laugh redeems me?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Mhm. Great laugh..."

He shook his head in disbelief. "I still don't understand your fixation with my laugh. Or me at all, to be honest."

"You're just you. That's enough."

"That's not helping me understand." He sighed.

I sighed too, looking down at my hands again. I popped my bloodied, though completely healed, finger in my mouth to clean it, and mumbled through it. "You'll just have to understand that I don't understand either." I took my finger out of my mouth, thinking about that last sentence, then laughed. "I don't understand what I just said."

"Right." He rolled his eyes. How the hell can a simple 'she's insane' eye roll be so God damn gorgeous!?

The End

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