Enjoy.
Chapter 3: Amu's POV
Amu grabbed her book off of her nightstand, shoving her purple reading light into the back pocket of her flared denim jeans. She adjusted her plain, oversized, grey tee-shirt before throwing on a red flannel. This is gonna have to do, she thought. She glanced over at her clock with a sigh. It was just a little past midnight, which was perfect because she did not want a repeat of the night before. She decided this morning that 3 hours of sleep just isn't really her idea of a good time, even on a weekend. That's why this meeting had to go by as fast as it could possibly go and she needed to hold herself to that. She would at least try to, anyway.
She made her way downstairs and nearly passed right by the kitchen had it not been for her peripherals. Her mother was in the kitchen, leaning her back against the sink, a mug in her hand. Although she was hesitant to do so, she walked into the kitchen and kept an eye on her mom, watching her as she just stared at the walls of the kitchen with blank, brown eyes.
"Mom?" Amu asked, one hand held her book and she couldn't help but to shove her idle one in her pants pocket. She pulled herself a little bit further into the kitchen, clearing her throat. It was all so dramatic and slow, but it was her normal.
"Amu," her mom responded dryly.
Amu blinked. Great. As she had expected, mom was not happy. "What's wrong?" She asked, mustering up as happy a tone as she could, free from any concern or tone that would send her mom into a rage over receiving sympathy. If her mom had been an NPC, she had to have just clicked the interact button because suddenly, her mom pulled herself out of her stiff stance from the kitchen sink.
"What's wrong?" Her mother mimicked angrily, her untidy, brown hair swinging along with the shake of her head. She turned toward the sink and cut on the water, drawing out the rest of her sentence. "Your father isn't home yet, my daughter goes out for hours on end doing God knows what, and I'm left home with no smokes, no drink to keep from going crazy from it all!" Her voice had risen to a near shriek, and she tossed the mug from her hand into the sink with a clang. Nothing broke.
Amu bit down on the insides of her lip and turned away without a word, walking through the living room. She grabbed her jacket off of the couch, having the feeling that she was going to need it. She glanced back at the kitchen one more time, imagining her mother scrubbing the paint off of the dishes with how hard she was going. If it wasn't for the situation, she would have laughed. But she instead gritted her teeth, a grim expression stitched to her face as she walked out the front door, slamming the screen behind her. There was no point in saying anything to her mom. No point in saying anything at all. Getting an attitude and starting an argument didn't and wouldn't change the way her mother acted. It would just waste ten minutes of her life on the inevitable. And her life was wasted on enough as it was. Her only option was to stay quiet and watch how everything unfolded. Being quiet was her only shield to staying out of the troubles and unnecessary dramas at both home and school.
Amu looked around the street with a sigh.
The streets were covered with dead leaves, brown and soggy because of the rain they'd had a few days ago. Some of her steps didn't make the nice, comforting crunching noise when she walked in them. The leaves were pointless. Bits of trash and cigarette butts were scattered everywhere and the streets were speckled with potholes and breaks in the pavement. The neighborhood wasn't really that bad and her family wasn't really that bad off, but the area that they chose to stay in was questionable to be certain. The neighborhood felt so empty and free from all traffic once the sun went down. Everyone collectively just seemed to mind their own homes, cook their dinners and sleep. Hardly anyone was ever out during this time. But for Amu, her park had become a safe haven from home and she would take loneliness and risking the night over her bedroom any day. Her footsteps halted on the curb of the park, and she felt the same way she always did when she saw it. Calm, and at home.
She stepped onto the sidewalk and immediately walked towards the playground. It was a miniscule playground with paint chipping from the metal beams. Graffiti sprayed on every flat surface from those who also occupied this park. She hooked her fingers through five of the many knotted diamonds of the net. The net was at an angle, that stretched from the mulch in the ground to the second level of the play structure. Amu gripped the small knots and climbed her way up to the plastic brown floor, rough from encrusted dirt. Scooting over to sit more center, she stared through the space between the red bars, looking at the moonlit mulch that blanketed the ground. It had been kicked up into small mounds, bare in other places from the constant fun that was had on it. She laid her legs in front of her and hung them over a shiny, silver slide. She saw her muddled reflection on one of the huge poles that supported the play set, and winced. She didn't look at herself often, not even when she brushed her teeth. The giant, hideous mirror plastered right in front of her every visit to the bathroom was something that she avoided because she didn't want to get too caught up in how she viewed herself. Amu stared at the pole and the altered blob of her pale face. The bright pink of her hair contrasted with it and she found that she had reached up and self-consciously smoothed down the cowlick that poked out of her high pony.
Moon's position in the sky made her guess that it had been just about 1:35 in the morning, and her phone confirmed that she was close; it was 1:27. She'd usually spent a good amount of time reading and reflecting in the park and tonight was no different. She pushed herself to slide down the slide and once her shoes hit the mulch, she stayed seated and took her book into her hands, pulled out her readers' light, and cracked the book open to delve back into her fantasy world.
Amu looked up when she heard the soft sound of mulch crunching in front of her. Moving her book to a partial close, she looked up and adjusted to a scene different from the white pages she'd been staring at. She blinked a few times, the words from her book still imprinted on the backs of her eyelids. There was nothing directly in front of her as the sounds of walking made it seem, so she shifted her body to look towards the side of the play structure. As her eyes made their way in the direction of the trees, her body froze when she saw a figure standing by them. Cold chills ran up her spine and down her arms before her relaxed instantly, playing the surprise cool. She'd even smiled a little, and asked quizzically, "um... Doesn't standing like that feel uncomfortable?"
The infamous Mr. Violin was poised with his back against the pine needles of the tree, with one leg crossed over the other. He posture straight, and his head angled towards her. He shook his head in response, with a smirk adorning his face.
"No. Not at all." He nodded toward her book. "What are you reading?" His voice was low and he made no effort to raise it. Despite the distance, she could hear him very well.
"A book about Mythology." She replied, fully closing the book in her hands. "About different myths and legends within cultures; that kind of stuff." It wasn't technically wasn't a lie but rather than being informational and to the point, each myth and legend in the book was a romantic retelling. She enjoyed the fantasy maybe it was why she gave him so much of her interest.
He nodded and stood quiet for a moment before he stepped away from the pine and began walking towards her spot on the slide. "Sounds like it could be interesting."
She shrugged and impulsively lifted and flashed her readers' light at him once he began towards her. "Why are your eyes like that?" She couldn't help but to interrogate him. "Are those contacts, or...?" Her voice trailed off when he shook his head mid-question. His hair looked light and airy today. Maybe it was the slight breeze that made him look so carelessly put together; it made her blush thinking about how soft his hair would feel being run through her fingers.
"My eyes are natural, I assure you. But if you'd like me to change the color..." He squinted when she shone the light hit his face for the second time.
"Change the color? You're not wearing contacts?" Amu pressed. "Your eye color is... I've never seen eyes look like yours," she murmured. "If they're not contacts, then I am one jealous person. Surely a lot of people tell you that."
He tilted his head as if in thought. "Are humans always envious of what they can't have?"
She blinked. "'Human?'" She had asked multiple questions already and so far his simple and aloof answers seemed to have opened the floodgates for more, "Who just tosses around the word 'human' in general conversation?"
He had done a great job with keeping his expression hard to read, but she caught the tiny scrunch of his brows. He was put off by her response. "Well..." Resolve flashed on his face before she could blink, and the look he gave her was focused and intense. As if he were assessing her. "Aren't you cold?"
Amu had her jacket tied around her waist, and the hairs on her arms had stood up. Goosebumps decorated her flesh but it wasn't due to the weather. Her goosebumps may as well have been her new normal. The moment in the classroom, the thoughts she had of him; they all seemed to spark shivers and need. Amu shook her head. "No, not really. Aren't you cold?"
He had no coat. Just the same tunic she saw him in yesterday. He shook his head. "I don't really get cold easily." He smirked as if enjoying a joke only he would comprehend. "I know how to keep my body temperature up and in control."
"Yeah?" Amu wanted to be in on the joke too, so she tried to egg him on. "And how exactly do you do that?"
Mr. Violin suddenly lit up, seemingly more interested in the conversation than before. "I'm delighted you asked." He looked more like on the verge of laughter. He held out his hand, and nodded his head toward the pine. "Come, and we'll talk."
Amu stood, she set her book on the slide in her place and assured it that she'd return for it soon. She brushed her hands over her jeans, and adjusted her shirt before taking a look at his hand. There's that feeling again. She was getting the same pull and ripple she had the night before, the warmth unfurled in her stomach and swirled around almost uncomfortably. She smiled, and pulled her eyes away from his extended hand. She walked around him, shoving her hands into her pockets while doing so for good measure. "I really don't want to... touch you." She commented as politely as she could.
She didn't need to see his expression to notice that he was in shock. For someone who invited her to come with him, he hadn't moved and inch from behind her and it caused her to turn around and see if she missed something. The look she caught on his face sent her into small, impulsive giggles. He looked similar to the last time she'd denied his hand. Confusion, worry, and there had even been a smidge of frustration lying behind his eyes. Everything about him was just so intriguing and dramatic.
She couldn't help but to ask, "Was that too harsh? I'm not trying to be rude, I'm just.. not really a touchy-feely person."
He shook his head, snapping out of it. Whilst the confusion was still there, he looked away and cleared his throat. "No, no, it's not necessary to explain. Alright then." His hand dropped to his side and the other simply motioned towards the line of trees. "Ladies first."
"How polite." Amu muttered, continuing her walk to the bushes. She was ultra aware of him walking behind her and could swear that she could feel the heat that he emanated on her back. Jeez. He probably doesn't even need a coat during the winter. She thought begrudgingly. What she would give for that kind of body heat.
They passed through the divide without obstacle and in silence. After she walked further into the soccer field, enough to give him space to pass through as well, she paused and gazed around the soccer field not even sure what she was looking for specifically. "Where are we headed?" She asked. There wasn't really anything that seemed out of place from where she stood and the warning bells were beginning to warm up if he'd planned to take her outside of the park.
"Just over there." He said from close behind; his voice seemingly back to it's casual, carefree tone. Tingles danced across her spine from his voice and lo and behold, goosebumps graced her arms once again. Her mind reeled from the feelings he consistently threw at her, and with each moment, she struggled more and more with keeping her composure. It was as if he were hammering away at her reality bit by bit.
"Over where?" Amu asked, squinting her eyes, looking for something specific, something that was within the park that she could see and wasn't plain grass.
Mr. Violin stepped around until he was in front of her. He held out his hand once again; only this time it seemed that he didn't intend to give her a choice. His hand outstretched to hers with a quickness. As if he planned to steer her in the right direction, as if he needed to touch her.
She wasn't sure she was going to let that happen.
R&R. I would appreciate it.
