Amy Yates

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't for the life of me make this place feel like home.

And lord help me I was trying.

Dinner had been awkward, and now I was sheltering away in my room, cushioned solely by the plush blanket I had wrapped myself up in.

The window was cracked open slightly, and I was embracing the breeze, looking toward my fairy lights, watching them twinkle, mesmerised a little by their subtle glow.

I had finished all of the homework needed for this week, which I had done in a freak-out after receiving detention.

Screw me for being a tad nerdy.

Now, it was eight pm, and I had just said goodnight to Posy, and retired to my room, hiding from the rest of my family.

If I could even call them that.

The teal walls haunted me a little, they were classic prenage girl esc and reminded me effortlessly that this room wasn't meant to be mine.

I yearned to fit in, and I tried as hard as I could to do just that, but how am I expected to love people who I've never known?

They didn't love me, and it was made clear, and it was hell.

Good job I knew how to make hell feel like home.

Suddenly, I heard a strange noise coming from outside, and I looked over to my clock.

Eleven thirty-six.

For three hours I had just been sitting for no reason, woah.

The noise continued, and I tried to ignore it, but it was getting more and more annoying, and I let my curiosity get the better of me.

I head to the window, and I find a sight that makes me smile a little more than it should.

There he is.

Joshua Foster.

He's standing on the grass between our two houses, and he's smiling.

That fucking killer grin.

He waves at me, and I wave back awkwardly.

He's wearing a black hoodie, and a pair of jeans, his hair a little wet from the misty rain flourishing in the sky.

He throws another rock up to the glass, and despite there being a physical barrier between me and the small stone, I flinch, stepping back a little.

After, I step back forward, lifting the window and hollering out to him.

"Watch it, Dick!" I huff, opening up the window fully.

He gives himself a step up on the shed by the side of the roof connecting to my window, hurling himself closer, before coming in through the window.

"Woah, woah, who said you could come in here?" I place my hand on his chest accidentally, but he doesn't move.

"You did," he says nonchalantly, shrugging as he heads further into my room.

"Pfft really, my mouth didn't even say anything?" I smile at him, and he spins back to me.

"You said it with your eyes." he smiles, and the corner of his mouth lifts slightly into the cheeky smirk he holds so often, taunting me.

"Stuff it, asshole." I roll my eyes, but I can't help but smile.

Josh continues to walk around my room as I shut the window, picking up various different things before settling on the edge of my bed, bouncing up and down on it slightly.

"What do you want, Joshua?" I stand opposite to him, my eyes looming on his tired eyes.

He scoffs.

Then smiles.

I swear, every time he smiles I forget how to breathe for a second.

I conceal my obvious admiration, crossing my arms in wait for his response.

"I don't know, just stuff you know."

Now it's my turn to scoff.

"You're weird, stranger.." I smile at him.

and he apologises.

"Sorry.." his voice is a little quieter, but I'm not sure why.

"That was a compliment." slips from my pink lips, and I settle next to him, he's smiling, but his eyes still look tired.

I'm staring again, but I don't care.

He had eyes that resembled the ocean, and his hair was in waves, I didn't mind drowning in that.

"You're staring again," he whispered.

It was almost a game we played.

"So are you."

It was obvious he didn't want to speak, but I didn't mind that.

He just wanted company, he just wanted to be seen.

And at that moment in time, my mother tongue was silence.

He was bruised, and his knuckles were bleeding a little, something I had only noticed just now, but he didn't let himself cry.

He wanted to, I could tell, but the rough exterior stood strong.

We sat, for what could've been an hour or could've been a minute, but we were oddly enough better for it.

He turned to look at me as he stood, and I noticed now a red ring around his iris, one that hadn't been there before.

A bruise on his left cheek had gotten subtly darker since he arrived, and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Amelia?"

I do nothing but nod.

"Thank you."

And then he leaves, from my window to his own.

That was quite possibly the strangest thing I've ever done, but one of my favourite moments in my existence up until now.

I understood Joshua Foster more now than I did ten minutes ago, that's for sure.