A/N: Here is your second chapter; hopefully it will be as good as the last one. Thank you so much for the reviews, I'm still smiling about them! Keep them coming, they are what get me motivated! Sorry about any grammar mistakes, I'm doing my best, feel free to point them out!

Disclaimer: All I own is a big urge to write.

JessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessjessJ

Chapter two - Behind brown and mild (would they be mild?) eyes

The storm had gotten stronger and the shy traces of sun had already disappeared.

He had joined her on the floor, sitting across from her.

She rested her back on the wall, tiredly, with her head falling a little to the left side and half closed eyes. She had a clear view of him and couldn't fight the urge of glancing at his features and body; she watched his every move, careful enough so he wouldn't notice her.

She had realized they were going to have to spend the night in that dreadful attempt of a house. The weather was getting worse by the minute and the sky only grew darker.

He was sitting with an arm steadying his head and the other holding a cigarette protectively. He would eventually bring it to his mouth sucking and blowing the smoke, slowly… in and out.

He knew she had been watching him; he didn't even have to meet her eyes. He could feel her gaze at him; like her eyes could touch his skin.

He found her innocent, but gorgeous. Not really his type. He also knew she could never imagine what he had done.

After half an hour of pure silence he asked skeptical: "You do know we won't be able to get home tonight, right?"

She rolled her eyes annoyed. She didn't like the tone of his voice and she didn't like to be treated as a child. He was what, three years older than her?

"Yes. I've also noticed that the sky is almost falling, you know?"

It was funny to see her irritated. He smirked.

She opened her book another time, giving full attention to it and ignoring him. She wasn't able to even finish reading the first sentence.

"Aren't you afraid?" He questioned her.

She looked up, confidently facing his stare.

She knew he was trying to make her feel nervous, but wouldn't show her anxiety to him that easily. She didn't know why he gave her strange chills.

"Of what?" She responded, playing the naivety card.

He had to admit that she was not your regular kind of girl. She had courage and, not like most people, could sustain his glare.

He also realized she had great taste in books; she had been holding a copy of Oliver twist since he got in, but only at that moment he could see its cover. The book had been one of his personal favorites since eleven, when he read it for the first time.

Not answering her question, he stole the book from her hands, going through her stuff afterwards.

"What do you think you are doing? She was dumbfounded by his actions, but knew he was only trying to get on her nerves. She had to agree that he was, in fact, succeeding.

"Just giving you something knew to read." Finally finding the pencil he was looking for, he began to write on the margins, placing his first thoughts on the limits of the pages.

She reached forward trying to recover her book, but he was quicker and held it above his head. Seeing he was also much taller she gave up; it was a lost cause.

They seated down for a second time, and she reassured him she wouldn't try to reach for the book again.

He kept on putting his feelings down on the paper and she kept on staring.

Having no clue about what he was doing, she couldn't help but feel intrigued by it. So, she decided to wait. What else could she do?

She studied his face. He appeared to be really concentrated, and she was surprised at how sexy he looked, simply resting the pencil between his lips.

His hair had dried out and it looked curlier than before. She liked it.

Becoming bored after a few minutes of nothing but silence, she decided to try and start a conversation:

"Jess?" She called, gaining his undivided attention: "Where are you from?"

He didn't know what to respond. His eyes had darkened and had begun to hold an eccentric intensity.

In childhood, his mother kept moving him from place to place. He was born in California, but didn't even stay there for a year. He had also, spent the last couple of years in jail. She certainly didn't have to know that.

"NY, I guess." He answered her after some deliberation. It was, after all, his favorite place in the world, the best city he had ever lived. He just loved the dynamic of it; how everything happened so fast.

She observed how he tensed up and clinched at her plain question and wondered 'who is this guy?' He was just so different from the others.

He then returned her book, giving her something else to reflect about. He didn't like to remember the last couple of years, much less to talk about it.

She began reading it. A smile emerged up on her face and her navy eyes brightened.

She traced his words with her fingertips, bringing her face up one more time to meet his distinct eyes. Once again she sank into the deepness of them.

"You've read this before." She acknowledged.

He merely nodded.


A/N: Love to know what you think!!! This is why I write ;p