“Why do you find me so interesting?” I reached for a bottle of water.
“I want to study the human mind and the human anatomy, plus, I love to draw.” I was impressed.
“So you can describe every inch of me, and my personality?” I asked, pretty interested in what he was going to say.
“Ready?” I nodded. “Your eyes are a jaw-dropping emerald/teal, your high cheekbones age you severely, but really you’re no older than fifteen. Your lips are a beautiful pastel fuchsia, small and subtle. Your face in sharp and cutting, almost frightening. Your eyelashes are big and bold, being it’s own mascara, yet there isn’t many, and just above that are your thin eyebrows, when relaxed looking timid. Your hair, a dirty blonde, is naturally wavy, but really curly when wet. Your shoulders are short, yet not stubby, your posture is poised, your breasts are a tad bit bigger than usual for your age, but simple.” I blushed; unaware he was even looking there.
“Your body is lean, you eat small meals, and you are active, you’re have a caved in belly button.” Jean smirked, knowing he was on point.
I swallowed my pride,” My personality.”
“You’re a daredevil at times, a rebel; you grow up way to fast, but you manage to catch up, sarcasm is your main target when you’re mad at someone, but, at the same time, you’re keen.”
“How do you know this?”
“I pay attention to the way you talk to me, look at me, and act towards me.” I nodded and finally took a sip of my water.” Oh, and you like me.” I gulped loudly.
“I do n-“ I stuttered, but I could barely finish. Jean was kissing me, his lips were soft and gentle, soothing also. I was kissing back, at first, I thought I was just caught in the moment, but soon it hit me that I undeniably liked him.
He pulled away,” You do so.”
Later, that night, I brushed my hair gently. I had only packed a small mirror, but I made do. After several slow strokes, I braided my hair. By now, I slid into more casual clothes and was completely comfortable with Jean being around.
He told me that if we were going to survive, I had to follow him. For my life, in was worth it. Jean also wrapped my knuckle in wound tape, and asked what had happened, but I didn’t feel like telling him.
Jean was constantly looking into a small book, with words in it. I asked him about it, and he told me it was our survival book, but that term was rather irrelevant to me.
“Hey, Halle.” I turn to Jean, who is clutching our ‘survival book’. “I’m going outside to confirm some things.”
“Okay.” He left. I sat there, thinking of life. Usually, at this time, I would post my blog about anything happening in the world.
I loved to write; I had a way with words, as my piers would say. I even had created a few novels on my computer and had printed them. Fortunately, I did not forget to bring them, they were tucked under all my clothes.
Jean crawled in, two books in his hand this time. He tossed one my way,” I got you a diary, I know you love to write.”
“How?!” I stammered.
“I’m reading your story: ‘Undeniable’ and I got to say, your good.” Jean remarked. I blushed, but steamed at the same time, I was excited that somebody besides my parents enjoyed the story, yet I was angry because he had rummaged through my stuff.
His innocent eyes glittered in the light and somehow I couldn’t stay furious at him.” What is the date?”
“August 31st.” Jean answered.
Dear Diary, AUGUST 31ST
It has been at least four hours since I have seen my parents, and worry has taken a hold on me. The end of the world has struck and Jean says there is more to come. I’ll leave the problem to him, for know I shall remain attentive.
Jean is reading my novel, and apparently he is enjoying it.
The fire is almost out, so I should make this quick: I am scared; Jean obviously isn’t because he has such a courageous spirit. But, me, at times like this, I am not the bravest person; I’d rather be safe.
Well, Jean has told me the fire is burning out in a few, so I might as well say my goodbyes.
With all due respect,
Halle Francesca Burner
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