Beats and Boys

Ever since I can remember, I've been dancing to my own tune.  Skipping to my own beat. Laughing to my own joke?

A stretch? I didn't think so either.

Needless to say, I didn't think much when people tried to warn me about Warren.  After all, what's not to like about a 6 foot 2, handsome, blue-eyed, 18 year old?

My point exactly.

Sure, I've only known him for two weeks but something about his eyes and his boy-ish smile just draw me in.  The way he says my name sends goosebumps creeping up my neck.

No, this is definitely right.

And sitting here under a blanket of stars on plastic lawn chairs pretty much feels like the Taj Mahal with him by my side.  Standing up, I smiled at him.  He looked up sleepily after staring at the fire for so long.  

"Hey," he mumbled roughly.

I laughed lightly, "Shall we?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "We shall."

The End

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