Masked Dreams.

Didn't she look pretty today?

She wandered across the hallways, passing through the corridors, greeting those she knew with courteous detachment. Her smile was light, and her steps were soft and unwavering as she moved towards the lockers. Her hair flowed as others passed her, and she daintily dodged potential minor accidents.

Even so, even her petite movements weren't what caught everyone's eye today. She looked different, and everyone noticed the subtle emphasis on her neatly curved eyes. Thin, black lines outlined the rims of her eyelids, and just under her eye, and her pupil suddenly became more alive, and more vivid. It wasn't that she needed this sudden emphasis, for she was naturally beautiful, her pale skin against her dark eyes brightened up her face already. However, this subtle difference gave her some other, more mysterious, unknown dimensions- power, even- whenever she gazed into your eyes. It was no mistake that she was naturally beautiful, and she knew how to flaunt it.

But none of this mattered to her, because all this only did one thing for her. Her eyeliner hid the evidence of her dying heart crying out to no one in the middle of the night.

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We lined up in a single file to enter the bus. It was rather small, and inside the tinted windows, I could make out the silhouettes of lengthy sofas, and a widescreen TV at the top front of the bus. I squinted my eyes so that I could see more, but the driver growled at us, and began to herd us onto the bus. I was the second to last to get on, before you, and I lazily moved forward in line as the others slowly moved into the bus I grasped at the sidebars for stability, and I pulled myself into the bus, almost lurching into the driver's seat.

The bus seemed more like a ball room than a bus. Chandeliers hung low, their dim light creating a warm atmosphere. The wallpapers were a flowery amber, complimented with a chocolate brown which rimmed the corners and edges of the interior. Long, yellow sofas stretched across the sides of the bus, and complex images were plastered across the windows. The carpet had a dreamy sort of softness, and its olive tone lightened and darkened as us weary passengers loaded ourselves onto the bus, filling it from back to front.

There weren't many people on the bus; two couples, my cousin, you and I completed the guest list of this luxurious ride. Although the sofas looked ever so tempting and comfortable, I settled myself at the front of the bus, sitting on the floor and using the sofa only to lean my back on. As my eyes inclined towards the TV, I noticed your figure stand beside me, and I turned to see you settle yourself beside me. My breath shortened for but a moment, and I turned down the volume of my iPod. The blaring music came to a sudden stop, and I began wrap the cords of my earphones as I responded to your soft, caramel voice greeting me. I fumbled as the cords seemed to fall out of my hands; the only thing I kept a steadfast hold of was the iPod itself, where its metallic orange finish slid neatly between my fingers. My fingers slowly tangled in the mess I made of the cords, and I heard a hearty chuckle beside me. I turned to grease at you, and I watched you smile right back at me. I didn't notice as your hand extended towards mine, and you began to untangle the cords for me. I tried to decipher your actions as I stared into your eyes, and thoughts rumbled through my head as I questioned your strange behaviour. Soon the cord was completely untangled, and you lined your fingers with mine, where I held the iPod, and you began to reel in the cords around my iPod. You wrapped the cords around our fingers, causing them to intertwine*. The palm of your toned hand was warm against the back of my pale, icy cold hand, and your fingers caressed my palm softly, drawing circles in the palm of my hand.

I could not comprehend what was happening, and your actions contradicted your wondering eyes; they were isolated and distant, and turned towards the TV. I stared at you for a while, and eventually turned back to the TV also.

We sat there for awhile, just gazing at the blaring television, until I sighed softly, yawning. As I threw my head back, I hadn't noticed that your arm crept its way behind me, and my neck curved easily into your arm. I shivered slightly at the sudden warmth of your arm, and hastily lifted my head up again, quickly shielding my eyes with my free hand to hide my embarrassment. With my peripherals, I caught you with a slight smile, and you began general conversation with me, as if nothing had happened. I responded to you wearily, trying to work anything out in my mind. I simply could not understand, but you helped me to forget, and eventually gave up and conversed with you.

Though before I knew it, your arm slipped behind my back, and you placed your hand gently on my waist. You shuffled a little bit closer to me, and leaned your head on my shoulder*, whilst responding to my previous question. You tugged at me, prompting me to draw nearer to you, all the while you continued to shuffle a little nearer to me, until our sides were aligned. In my horror, I attempted to throw off your hand with my free one, but as soon as I grabbed it, my muscles went weak, and my nerves tingled as you slowly wrapped your fingers around my hand*.

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There was more than this, but it's so pointless.

LOL, Sarah.

*remember.