"I thought you'd left me." That is not what Danny means to say at all. It's entirely too vulnerable, tacking on 'me' at the end. Scrambling to qualify the revealing statement, he says, "I mean... I woke up and you were gone." He winces and hopes she doesn't notice the slightly desperate edge to his voice.
He's close to her now, scooting near enough so that their hips are bumping. His adam's apple bobs, swallowing hard to intent on changing the subject. "Can I?" His hand is outstretched and he's nodding toward the joint pinched between her fingers.
Her eyes narrow. "Who are you and what have you done with Daniel Castellano?"
He laughs quietly. "I just had the trippiest dream. Did you spike the boxed wine?"
She laughs, and it's yet another new sensation to add to the catalogue of things the Mindy makes him feel. Sure, he's heard it several times in the past couple days, but this is the first time he's intentionally tried to make a joke. There really isn't anyone who would call Daniel Castellano a funny man, but things have been pretty surreal lately.
As a matter of fact he thinks he might still be dreaming, the shadows trembling slightly as he gazes out on the horizon. But then she laughs again, and he's reminded that it's nothing like in the dream, the reality of it punching him in the gut.
"Nope, the only high you got from that wine was a sugar-high." She passes him the joint, thin wisps of curling smoke wafting up to his nose. "Careful, it's basically a roach now and I don't have a clip, don't want to burn your fingers."
He brings it to his lips, unsure really of how to go about this, but he's seen movies and does his best impression of Cheech Marin as he inhales the sweet smoke, holding it in. It doesn't feel all that different than the secretly smoked cigarettes he sometimes sneaks on stressful days. He's not sure what he thought would happen, but there are no sirens, no cuffs slapped on his wrists.
After a few seconds he blows the cloud of smoke, watching as the wind carries it away. She declines when he attempts to pass it back to her. "I've had enough. There's barely any left. You might as well finish it if you want a head change."
"Head change?"
She snickers. "Sorry, um, a head change... It's like, when you were a kid and you'd hang upside down and let all the blood rush to your head, and then you'd get this dizzy almost pleasant sensation when you stand back up."
He nods, not entirely sure if he understands what she means, or if it's even something one would want to experience, but it doesn't stop him from pulling at the joint until there's nothing left for the cherry to consume. "Interesting."
She snorts out a laugh, taking the tiny bit of rolling paper from between his fingers and flicking it out into the night. "You sound like a doctor."
"I am a doctor."
He says it like it's a revelation even to himself, and this elicits a gale of laughter from Mindy. She ends up holding one hand over her mouth in an effort to suppress her amusement, lunging forward to press a finger to his lips. "Shhhh, we can't wake up your dad."
Danny doesn't think the pot is making him giddy, but happiness washes over him as he watches her shushing him... even though he's not the one making noise. He can't stop himself from blurting out, "I think I love you."
The words are all looped together mumbled against her fingertips, the tail of one attached to the head of another. For a second he thinks maybe he didn't say them out loud, but her wide eyed expression tells him the truth. He rushes to qualify the declaration. "I know it's too soon, it's ridiculous. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm sorry?"
She nods, backing away from him slowly. "I'm confused too, Danny. I don't understand what's happening here." She swallows, gathering courage. "I think, maybe... I could love you too?"
The fact that they both turn their statements into questions is not lost on either party. Mindy scooches closer to him, snaking on arm out to slip it under his own as she leans on him. "Do you think..." She trails off, unable to articulate her question fully.
"Can I come to Boston with you?"
Mindy's answer is an enthusiastic kiss, throwing her arms around his neck, practically climbing into his lap. He steadies himself on rough roof tiles, arms straining as he holds her close. The last thing he wants is to pitch off the roof, but it feels like kind of thing that would happen to him. Reluctantly, he pulls away, for the first time noticing the tear tracks on her face reflecting the moonlight.
He wipes away the remaining moisture with the pad of his thumb, lingering for a moment at the corner of her mouth. He can still feel the pressure of her lips on his, and wants more than anything to spend the rest of the night memorizing their texture. "What's that song you were humming earlier? It's familiar."
Embarrassment is written all over her face, and if they were sitting in the light of day, Danny's pretty sure he'd see an effusive blush making her cheeks rosy. "It's silly."
Closing his eyes, he hums a few bars of the melody, trying hard to place the lilting notes. Suddenly it clicks, his eyes flying open. He can't count the number of times he heard it growing up, children mockingly tossing the opening line at him after learning it in music class. It's a burden any child with a name in a song must bear. "Oh, Danny Boy?"
Danny lets out a peal of laughter, holding her closer. She snuggles into him. "Gimme a break, I'm stoned. One year of choir in high school and it's the only song I seem to remember."
"No wonder you were crying. That song is depressing."
"It seemed appropriate at the time." She sings softly into his chest, voice reedy yet clear. "Tis you, tis you must go and I must bide."
His chin is resting on her head, and Danny is grinning like an idiot. "You are so dramatic."
"Shut up."