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Rated: E · Fiction · Friendship · #1233628
"Jack had always been the type to act on impulse." A story of friendship & potential love.
Feet and hands quickly fastening themselves into the wall's numerous niches, the young man adeptly climbed further up the wall. It was obvious that he had gone through these same motions countless times before. Jack fixed his gaze towards his goal--a small window, already partially open and leading directly into his friend’s bedroom--and continued upwards. A fleeting thought that his efforts may be for naught if the kid was not even at home was brushed aside as Jack’s fingers finally grasped the windowsill. He concentrated on hoisting himself up. Now precariously seated on the windowsill with his back to the room, he pushed the half-closed window fully upwards with one of his palms, and, hugging his knees to his chest, leaned back, landing in the room in a graceful, short roll. In one fluid movement, Jack stood up with his back still facing the room and blinked a few times as if reorienting himself to his new surroundings.

“You could have just came through the front door, you know,“ said Alaric, face-down on his bed, head buried in the plush pillows, voice a bit muffled.

The pillows comically engulfed the slender blonde teen. Aside from a few framed pictures of friends, mainly of Jack and himself, neatly lined on top of the corner dresser, the room was barren of any personal touch. The messiness stereotypically associated with most teenagers’ rooms was also lacking, evident only by a semi-cluttered desk near the bed. A pristine white MAC sat atop it, screen glowing faintly.

“Ah. Probably,” Jack knowingly replied with the same answer he always used when entering through the window. Running to the bed where his friend lay, he quickly jumped at the last minute to avoid colliding into the bed’s frame, and landed face up, right next to the other boy. The bed creaked up and down, eventually becoming still again, once its new occupant settled down.

A minute passed, and rolling to his side, Jack propped his chin on his hand and observed his friend’s prone form. Another minute, and the comfortable silence continued. As if feeling Jack’s gaze on him, Alaric eventually turned his blonde head to the side, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

“What?”

A burgeoning grin spread itself across Jack’s face in synch with a deepening crease between Alaric’s brows. “What what?” Jack replied.

The response earned the boisterous boy a hint of a smile from the other, but it disappeared as quickly as it came as Alaric turned his face into the pillows again. The silence continued for a while longer.

[continued in TTW, 2]
© Copyright 2007 I.M. Kingfisher (eneri at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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