So I know this chapter isn't super long or anything. But I have a feeling you guys aren't going to mind it. This is full of Eli-Clare cuteness, and I literally mean full of it.

When Eli returns to school the next day, Adam skips. I'm not sure if they plan these things out, or if it just naturally happens, but something feels ironic.

I've noticed a lot of things about Eli in the five minutes I've spent watching him work on our story. For one, there always seems to be a song stringing along in his mind. He bobs his head subconsciously, the motion so light and subtle I sometimes wonder if it's me who's actually doing the moving. Occasionally I notice him closing his eyes, shielding his view with the harmony of a hidden song only he seems to be able to understand.

I have this theory that every person has their own song. None of them will ever be one you can find on the radio, or search on itunes, or even comprehend any lyrics. It's a melody, the beating of your heart combined with the rush of your blood combined with the kind of person you are. They attach to one another, tying together like DNA until all the parts soar across your body, clouds in the sky. It's not something you can explain, because it's not even something that's known to exist. But it's there, never changing and sticking with everyone until the day they die. Maybe, after they pass away, if you get really, really quiet, you just might be able to hear the soft tune of an unknown song, if only for a split second.

And on rare occasions, he opens up his mouth, just slightly, letting out a breath that's enveloped with something else. A word, an emotion, a memory, a suppressed cough, I just don't know. But his breath feels unusually heavy as it passes through the air and reaches me, and sometimes I can feel my fingers lacing open to grab it and hide it in my pocket. There's something comforting about the way he acts, a lullaby that puts a child to sleep, and Eli seems to be the only person who can put me in a daze only he's able to bring me out of.

"What are you thinking about?"

I jump when Eli speaks. Literally jump. I put my hand over my heart for a second to recover from the sudden leap and graze my eyes back over at him. He's looking at me, another bare expression on his face, but even though I can't decode an emotion I somehow can still tell there's one there.

"Nothing, really. Why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know," He puts his pen down and focuses all his attention on me, "You just looked like you were in a really deep thought, or something. Were you?"

"Maybe," I say, "But it doesn't matter anymore, 'cause obviously you ruined it."

He snorts, "I apologize for raining on your parade."

"It's okay. I like the rain."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

That smirk is back on his face and he shakes his head in amusement. I really don't know what's so funny. Instinctively, and self-consciously, I lift my hand up to wipe an unknown substance off my face.

"We already did this with whats," he tells me, still smirking, "Must we do it again with whys?"

"You never did answer my question," I challenge, placing my bookmark in my novel and closing it. A wave of confidence hits me as I place my elbows on the desk, raising my eyebrows at him and smirking.

I think for a moment how stupid we both look right now, staring at each other with these playful smirks on our faces, but at the same time I kind of like it. For once I don't feel prone to act as though I'm this mature, grown-girl who's completely perfect. I know Eli would hate her, being the way he is and all, and that he'd much rather have someone who chokes on every word and loses herself in her own thoughts.

"You never answered mine," he points out, waggling a finger in my face, "And after all, I did ask first."

"Well, my question was about your question. So I'll answer yours once you answer mine."

"What was your question?"

"What was your question?"

"Why do you like the rain?"

I feel two thoughts arise in my brain. One is: why do I like the rain? I don't really have a pure, straightforward reason for it, like most people expect. There's no childhood memory of playing in the rain, or any song or book about the rain that touched my heart. It just has always felt like part of me, a packaged deal. I just enjoyed it; the noise it makes against my windows, the way it smelt, the way it made the world look.

I suppose my favorite part is how it makes me feel. I spend so much of my life in a state of terrifying numbness, sometimes to the point where I can make myself bleed and not feel a thing. But when I'm in the rain, with frosty droplets of water shattering against my skin, it feels real. I feel real. I don't feel threatened by the thoughts of my body disintegrating with numbness. The world won't shake anymore, flashing into view only for enough time for me to blink and suppose it was once there. When it's raining, my view is pure, I am real, the world is stable, I stop shaking, and even though I'm cold, at least I can say I'm something at all.

But why does Eli care? No one really asks why you like the rain, unless they actually want to know. But if Eli does care, why would he? I mean, sure, he does fit the category of a person who spends a lot of time with thoughts swimming around, but how would any of those thoughts include me? Or rather, why? Am I some kind of an experiment to him? A toy? A puzzle? Or does he know everything, and just throws rocks at my window until the glass eventually shatters?

My mind is so full of eternal questions the answer I was about to say got sucked up into their black portal.

"I don't know," I tell him. In a way, it is true. I honestly don't completely know. "Do you like the rain?"

A soft smile grows on Eli's face. "Absolutely. I'm going to save you the trouble of asking and just tell you why."

"Okay."

He rolls his eyes. "You know," he says, slightly annoyed, "You kind of just ruined my whole point of saving you the trouble of asking why by saying okay."

A blush creeps along my cheeks. Damn them. "Sorry," I mumble.

He throws his hands in the air and wavers them a little with exasperated infuriation. "There you go again. Just do me a favor, and shut up, okay?" He holds his left hand up, his skull ring sparking in the sunlight that's seeping through the window. I'm so tempted to place a finger over it and shadow it away from the beam. "No, no, that was rhetorical. Anyway, as I was saying, I like the rain because it stops me from waiting. 'Waiting?'" Eli mocks a dumfounded voice with heavy bitterness, "You are about to ask," he's right, I was just about to ask, "But think about it, Clare. When it's really nice out, you know, the sun shining and not a cloud on the sky, sure it's great. But after a week, it's still nice. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you're waiting for the rain to come. You know it's not something to just fade away and never return. It's kind of an antsy feeling. It's like, everything is so good but it won't last forever. But when it rains, you don't have to just sit there and wait for it to come. It's there, and soon it will stop, and then the sun will come out again. You get what I'm saying?"

Once again I'm at loss for words. There are so many emotions running through me right now, half of them I don't even know what they are. I sit there, staring at him with probably the most befuddled expression on my face, the mouth shaped into an O and everything. Still can't speak.

There's that stupid smirk on Eli's face when I snap back into reality. He leans back into his chair and crosses his arms, as though he hadn't just had dipped into his soul and pulled part of it out to me. Of course, I shouldn't be surprised. It is Eli after all, the man of mystery, the boy in black, the one person on this planet I'm so perplexed with I hunger to know to more information about.

"Did you hear me? You get what I'm saying?"

"Sorry," I shove away my amazement to stop myself from looking more like a fool than I already have, "I was just kind of scared to speak, considering how you told me to shut up, and all."

"Boo hoo," He pushes back a few strands of loose hair. Most guys, I must admit, look like greasy slobs with longer hair. But somehow Eli makes it work, since it fits his personality so well. I mean, what better way to be super secretive then by hiding some of your face with your dark hair? "I'm sure you'll survive by my horrible emotional abuse."

The word abuse feels like a bullet in my chest. I suck in a sharp breath and start counting.

One.

He didn't know what it meant.

Two.

You're hiding you're pain pretty well. He has no idea what's going on.

Three.

He'll never know what's going on.

Finally, after calming down and gaining enough courage to speak, I say, "Yeah."

Yeah. Just like fine, it's one of those words that can be acceptable in any situation. But just like fine, no, just like everything, there are exceptions.

Sooo? Did you two like their whole conversation? I noticed how he hasn't had a huge part in a while, so I wanted to give him an entire chapter =)