A/N: Erm…this is short and crapola to the extreme, but I figured I'd post it because I have nothing better to do with it.
Reviews are encouraged and generally cherished.
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Laughter
By: Zayz
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It's the middle of the day, the middle of a class period, the one right after lunch. You've been given free time at the end of the lesson. A welcome break. You talk with significant animation to brown-haired, brown-eyed Alice Prewitt and she chatters away, lost in the rapture of her own storytelling. You can't help but take a quick sweep of the room, pretending you're not looking at him even though you know you are.
There, there he is. You rest your eyes on him for the tiniest fraction of a moment and he's a sensory overload. Your brain can't keep up with all there is to take in. You are rendered defenseless by how he glows, how he stands out in this room full of loud people, without even looking your way.
Right now, he's laughing, laughing quite hard. The sound is almost harsh for all its rawness; frivolous and haphazard; yet strangely sweet. Instantly, you wonder what could inspire such a laugh. And then you wonder why it matters so much, because no one else is struck dumbly speechless like you are.
It's a laugh. Just a laugh. But here you are, entranced by the unguarded simplicity of the whole thing, while life goes on as normally as it ever does. You space out and take a short skinny-dip into this strange, vibrant world of pure affection. You dig a bit more of your hole for yourself here every time you visit – like now.
You are stuck in this odd traipsing between the real world and the world of a lovesick brain. Against your will, you are here. And you have now reduced yourself into admiring his laughter; and although it's considerably pathetic, you aren't bitter. That's a pretty big waste of energy.
Summer sunshine burns your eyes from the window under which he's standing. You focus back in on the sound of Alice's voice, revealing the punch-line to her story. You chuckle to make her happy, guilty that you couldn't listen to her properly. Alice beams anyway and changes the subject to something else. You mentally shake yourself awake as you readjust to the look, the smell, the sound, the feel of reality.
The classroom scene fumbles back into focus. He becomes just another boy with messy black hair, laughing uproariously still. You respond to Alice and rejoin the conversation. Your eyes avert back to the ground, and then to the face of the girl you trust the most. You're slightly dazed, but it's okay, it's okay. You're back. The loud people don't matter anymore.
The bell rings, harsher than any sound you've heard since last period. People pick up their things and leave the room, still talking. You and Alice do too; and as you go, his laughter reverberates through your brain in a way that really shouldn't be okay at all.