[ She watches him intently, taking in what he says, clearly thinking it over. Then, her gaze drifts to the side. She doubts the eye catching she has is the same. Inspiration and creativity drive his world, but, paranoia and distrust drive hers.

« Current issues aside? His life is better than mine. Fuller. I've seen more... but I've never neen able to really stop and marvel anything anymore. It's all just pulled down by this feeling of cynicism. » ]

I don't think the world looks the same to me as it does you. [ « I know it doesn't. He still has the poster on the wall. Why... why would he ever take it down? »

Her gaze drops. Shoulders curl as if she's trying to make herself smaller. Unseen. ] It's good you can lool at the world like that and still pull inspiration from it. Don't let anything take it away.

[ Jesse has already leaned against him entirely. He could bend down and sweep her off her feet and she'd let him. That pull inside her wants to never break contact. Keep together with him. Make itself louder--but she doesn't understand what, how, or why any of it feels the way she does.

His nose brushes against hers and she can't help the small smile that tugs on her lips. A hint of pink touches her cheeks. She's not used to any of this. These motions are for normal people. Not crazy people like her.

Her eyes remain closed. ]

Do you want to keep writing?