The Writer | #4✓

Chapter 12

I found myself jogging through the empty streets of my college. People stared at me with confused looks, but I didn't really care. I was running late, and I only slowed down when I saw the bus stop right ahead. The grin on my face grew even wider when I spotted Maxwell waiting on the bench for me.

"Hey!" I yelled, making him turn towards me with a surprised look before he smiled.

"I thought you aired me," he chuckled as I walked up to him, standing right in front of him with my hands in the pockets of my fall jacket.

"No, I just lost track of time," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck as I continued to look down at him. Maxwell's ginger hair was bouncy and untamed today. He was wearing a dress shirt instead of a sweater for a change, and I really liked the ripped jeans he wore. They suited him quite well.

"The bus will be here in about ten minutes, so..." Maxwell trialed before patting the space beside him on the wooden bench. I smiled, making to sit beside him as we waited. The weather was cold, but it wasn't the face biting freezing kind of cold. Still, I kept wondering how Maxwell could sit down comfortably in ripped jeans and use his phone without his fingers freezing over.

The bus can soon after, and we both got in. We sat together and talked through the ride until the bus came to the closest stop by the mall.

"I haven't been to the mall here," I said, realizing that I hadn't really ventured out of campus since I moved into the residence building. Maxwell smiled at me, surprising me by taking my hand in his.

"Then better stick close, we don't want you to get lost, do we?" he said, winking at me. I blinked, looking away with bright red cheeks which made him laugh, but he didn't let go of my hand. We walked into the mall together, before heading upstairs to the cinema to get tickets. When we got there, we headed to the auditorium and settled down in the back seats.

"It should start in a few minutes," Maxwell said, making me turn to look at him in the semi-darkness. I was holding a bag of popcorn in my hands, and he soon turned to grab a handful from the bag.

"There aren't many people here," he said, making me look into the room, and he was right. There were only a few dots of people in the place, and we were the only ones in the back-row seat.

"You look surprised," he said before laughing. I blinked, realizing that I'd been looking around with wide eyes. I looked away, trying to look at anything but Maxwell. Soon after the commercials stopped, and the movie began. Even when the movie started I refused to look at him, I just stared at the screen as my heart beat in my chest.

Well? I asked in my head, wondering when he'd make a move, but he didn't. He just casually ate popcorn from his own bag, and I wasn't sure if I was disappointed or relieved. Even though he wasn't doing anything my body refused to relax, I just listened to him chew, the sound of the movie fading into the background of my mind.

A sigh left my mouth when I heard him stop. Will he do it now? I wondered, but the chewing soon continued, and I bit my bottom lip. Why is he doing this? I wondered, letting my fingers grip onto the chair's arm as I waited — jittery and nervous.

A gasp left my lips when I felt Maxwell's fingers graze my hand. I looked down at it, before looking up to find his smiling face in the dimly lit room. I watched as he touched my knuckles with the base of his thumb, rubbing them softly before taking his hands away.

"You're nervous," he said. It wasn't a question. It was a clear blank statement that I couldn't deny. I watched him fish in his pockets, and soon after he took out a thin strip of cloth. I couldn't tell what color it was. I just watched as he extended it as if showing me before he made to lace it under my chairs handle before tying it around my hand.