Distant Familiarity
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She found herself lingering at his door for no apparent reason, fingering the ceramic handle of a steaming mug. There was the creasing of paper and soft sounds of a clicking pen as pale yellow light flickered out of the room and streamed out in a straight, narrow ribbon. She imagined his erratic writing on lined paper - green writing, he always did like to write in green – and idle doodles in the margin of nothing in particular.
Her lips tightened in a thoughtful pout as a small silence replaced the small noises. She could see him in her mind, staring out in the sky, and perhaps biting his lip as he waited for the words to come; a jumble of letters that made no sense that slipped out of his mind. English homework, she thought without a doubt. He always had trouble with English homework.
There was a quiet, defeating pause, a sigh, and the sound of footsteps. The door was open before she could react.
"Jazz?" Danny's words were slurred slightly but his eyes were alert, genuinely confused. "What're you doing?"
"Just passing by," she replied instantly with a hint of airiness. She gestured towards her room down the hall. "Thought you might like something to drink. Having trouble with homework? Sleep deprivation? Did you know 63 percent of students under eighteen are sleep deprived-"
"Jazz." He gave her a weary grimace that didn't quite fit in with his features. "Not tonight. I don't have time."
A detached smile smothered her hurt surprise. "What am I, standing in the way of your coffee?"
His mouth twisted into a flicker of a hesitant and unexpected smile that didn't meet his eyes when she handed him the mug. She felt the tingle of warmth linger in her hands for a brief moment while he contemplated - scraping his teeth against his lower lip as was wont to do - and she suddenly saw the likeness between their relationship and the mug of coffee. Full of short lived moments, but overwhelmingly comforting while it lasted.
"Thanks," he murmured blearily. She was suddenly tempted to pinch his cheek affectionately like grandmothers did.
"Coffee demotes growth," she told him, and this time he chuckled, a tired, amused laugh that seemed to break the trance he always seemed to be in. She felt a pang somewhere in her chest that seemed both sorry and content.
"You wish," he said with a hint of his old smugness. This time she didn't hold back from her older sister instincts when she ruffled his dark hair. He ducked under her reach, but she caught the look of his tight lips and sucked in cheeks.
"Have fun with Mr. Lancer tomorrow," she joked, twisting a lock of copper hair around her finger.
"Mmm," he rolled his eyes in dread, then there was a moment of silence; a sort of awkward understanding between them that was as hazy and unclear as a slowly lifting fog.
"I'm always here, y'know," she said suddenly, and she could distantly hear in her mind the shattering of glass. He nodded in acknowledgment but she wasn't quite sure he understood the whole concept – really understood. But then it was all back; that distant, teenager demeanor.
For both of them.
She turned around and he started to close the door when a flash of green writing on paper caught the corner of her eye.
And Jazz just smiled.
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Just trying a different sort of writing style – a lot more subtle than usual. I'd love to see if you got the underlying meaning, or just give me your opinion in general.
Constructive criticism, praise, and anything welcome. :D