Writing a song is normally a hard but rewarding process. Watching someone else try to write is a song is just fun, especially if it's your boyfriend who's part of a famous band. So that's what I'm doing this Saturday afternoon. It's almost winter break, so teachers are going easy on homework and tests, and I've decided to spend my free time with Shane. Not that I wouldn't otherwise, but you get the point.
Today, we're at the place Connect 3 got in Chicago because they "think that it's got the best music scene". It might be true, but I think that it helps a lot that all three girlfriends of the Connect 3 members live in Chicago or nearby. Anyway, Nate and Caitlyn went Christmas shopping, and Ella and Jason went for a walk, so Shane and I have the place to ourselves.
Not that we're doing anything like that, you sick-minded people. I'm supposed to be studying for finals, and he's writing what he says is Connect 3's next big hit.
"Let me see," I say for about the fourth time. He just shakes his head and keeps writing.
"Please?" I pout, but he doesn't see because he won't look up from the piece of paper. I get up from where I am, and sit on the couch next to him. Surprisingly enough, this doesn't get his attention either.
I smile mischievously, thinking up ways to distract him. I begin by making faces at him. I'm sad, I'm happy, I'm crying, I'm laughing. I make goofy faces, too. He doesn't look at me, so it doesn't really help. Then I decide that talking might do it.
"I think I'm gonna fail my finals," I say. He just nods and mumbles, "That's nice."
"I don't like you," I state. And again, nothing.
"Look, a giant cow floating in the sky!" I exclaim. Wow, he's really focused on the song.
That's when it hits me. If talking won't do it, then I know exactly what will. I start off easy, putting one hand on his arm. He doesn't even look my way, so I move my hand up and down. Hmm… Still writing.
Then I move my hand to his knee. He stirs a bit, but doesn't look up. Wow, he really is dedicated, isn't he? I'm going to have to use all I got for this, so I run a hand through his hair. He stops writing for a couple of seconds. Yes! Score! I kiss his cheek lightly, hoping this might work better.
He looks at me like he just realized I'm here, and I smile sweetly. What can I say? He might be a spaz, but he's my spaz.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
"Inspiring you," I answer. I kiss his cheek again, then pull back, looking into his eyes. I'm so good at this, he, he. Interested, he kissed my forehead, and I close my eyes, sighing deeply.
I put my hands on his neck, and kiss his lips softly. He kisses me back, moving his hands to my back. I wish we could stay like this forever, but just as I'm about to kiss him more deeply, he pulls away, grabs his pen, and continues writing the song.
He looks at me, grinning, and says: "Thanks."
