Hurricane Jones [boyxboy]

hurricane jones [10]

[pics i took of the sky, self control by Frank Ocean]
word count: 2558

in dedication to frank ocean for finally putting me out of my misery and releasing blonde.
-

Dalton Jones was quiet.

Although I already knew this from sitting beside him everyday for about a month. He'd had weird habits that could help you decipher how he was feeling and just how much when he didn't have the words to speak.

Since picking me up, we'd spoken few words but he made sure to stay right beside me. He'd had a single dandelion in his hand when I met him outside, most likely plucked from my grass since there was a field of them but really, it was the thought that counted. Dalton never knocked, always just stood outside patiently at the time he was supposed to be there. On our first date, as soon as he'd seen me, he'd smiled cutely, cuter than I'd ever seen him smile and shoved his hands gently in the pockets of his nice-fitting, black shorts once the flower was in between my fingertips.

I was wearing my favorite blue tee, it matched the color of his eyes I'd noticed. Dalton's lips were pulled into a small smile.

When we'd gotten into the main part of Evans, a short walk over and he'd called a taxi service to take us downtown. There we sat pressed side-by-side in the packed car.

"So," deciding to start a conversation in fear that it'd be awkward, I kept my eyes on the small partition that separated us from the man up front. It was said to be a 20 minute ride and then a little walk to get there, although we both seemed content to sit there quietly, I saw it as an opportunity to get to know the Aussie boy.

"So..." He'd trailed off, raising a dark eyebrow at me, eyes cutting to mine. And I was briefly taken back by how blue they were, small little pools curving around his pupils, my reflection hitting off of them. My eyes had zeroed in on his face then, so close to mine yet far enough to where I didn't cringe in discomfort. Down the bridge of his slightly upturned nose, I took in the freckles and rosy red dusted across his cheeks. His heart-shaped lips were almost-red, bent up slightly at the Cupid's bow and parted to reveal the gap between his slightly-bigger two front teeth that made him even more adorable.

Dalton Jones was gorgeous.

Shifting my eyes away, I faced the front, more persistent than before and attempted to ignore the little smirk on his lips. Clearing my throat, I tried again, "S-so... How's America treating you?" That was the most I could come up with at such an awkward time. His cool blue irises were stuck in my head and every time I blinked, my heart pounded.

He shrugged, leaning further into the seat but obviously, he had no space and his thigh was pressed against mine. His hand was on his knee, so close to touching me and Dalton had no problem with our close proximity... Nor had he had a problem focusing his icy eyes on me. "I can't always find things, I dunno. They don't have a metro system... there's not really anything and for fucksake, the mozzies are everywhere."

"Mozzies?"

Smiling at that, Dalton chuckled, rephrasing his sentence and my eyes had sheepishly caught him. I kept my gaze on his almost-white hair as he explained his lingo in words I could understand, "mosquitos."

"Oh, yeah," trying to figure out how to be less awkward, I offered advice. "Try some repellant?"

"Yeah, no."