I was never one to run off with the tales that one person sung. There were always two sides to a story and I would never dare make a judgement without thoroughly hearing both first.
But that was rather hard if one story teller was dead.
"Nina." I smiled at the sound of the gruff voice, already knowing it after one bizarre meeting.
"Colson." My eyes glued to his jaw as he took a seat on the concrete of the old house, his golden curls shaggy but falling in waves nevertheless. "Stalking me?"
He grinned, hiking his knees up to his chin, a fete I thought impossible in such tight jeans. "Yes." His dazzling eyes bore into my plain ones, a smirk now etching his jaw.
I grabbed on the frayed ends of my beige sweater, trying to avoid his strong eye contact. "You said some very bad things about your Grandma yesterday."
It made sense to cut straight to the chase. The issue was burning the back of my brain. I needed full answers and explanations and I needed them now.
"They were all facts."
"I find it hard to believe that."
"Well, you only kind of knew her so that explains that." His glare was intense, causing me flinch back only an inch.
"Point taken. But what can I say? I'm quite curious." I slid my feet to lay flat on the warm surface, praying my blue jeans won't become too dirty from the ground.
"Curiosity killed the cat, Nina. Now tell me more about yourself." Colson quickly dismissed my questions, his eyes returning to staring into my soul with the strongest intensity.
"I hate that question, I never know where to start." I quipped, absentmindedly dragging closer to the very long legged boy.
"How about you start by telling me what your fascination is with the back of this old house." His eyes casted to the rotting, wooden house stood before us.
It was small and white, the paint chipping off greatly from damage. It stood on a grassy acre of land, dying flowers spattering the area.
"I've never actually thought about that." I chuckled, combing a small knot out of my puffy fro. "I guess it's just tranquil and relaxed. No one is here, which means no noise, so I have enough time to think about stuff."
His eyes scanned my features as I spoke before flickering briefly over my body.
I turned away, feeling self conscious, my thick bush of hair shielding the left side of my face. "Stuff?"
My head nodded on it's own accord. "Yes. Stuff. Nothing in particular but at the same time everything."
Colson's forehead creased in question, his fingers moving to grab a small stone which he ran his fingers over the crooked edges. "Interesting. What other hobbies do you have though, besides hanging out in abandoned, old houses."
I giggled. I couldn't help my self. He some how got me bubbling with laughter from his second rate humor. "Very funny." I hesitated a while trying to think about it for myself. I've never actually been asked that question before. "I guess I like riding my scooter to the library to read and stuff."
"That's it?" His eyebrows rose at me expectantly, my eyes falling to the few red pimples spattered across his cheek and jawbones.
He was beautiful.
I shrugged, waving my hand. "Enough about me. What about you? What does this dead- grandmother - hating singer boy entail?"
He chuckled at my dark humor, a strange look flickering in his eye. His lips drew into his mouth for a second before his eyes returned to bore into mine with the same stupid intensity. " I guess you could say I'm in college, second year. I study music as you could guess and I sing at random events."
I nodded, giving him a brief grimace. "You're right. I could've guessed that. I could've guessed everything you just said. Tell me something deep."
He leaned in to me, gaze strong and his misty perfume tantalizing my nostrils. "I think I told you the deepest things about me yesterday."
"That wasn't deep. It was depressing, horrifying." I shruddered at at the detailed memory of his story, trying to will it from my brain.
He smiled his pretty smile. "You're overdramatic."
"I'm not." I tucked my sleeve beneath my fingers, feeling the wind pick up.
We fell into a peaceful silence, my eyes casting to the old house. It was getting late and I probably should've head home.
I could feel Colson's gaze on the side of my cheek, burning holes. When I turn around abruptly, he gaze failed to waver, only searching my eyes with more fire.
"Let me take you someplace."