#jesse.thread

as the laughter dies down and the sound of wind and a lone cricket in dead night replaces it, jesse sinks back in his chair, languid and drunk off inside jokes. he raises a hand to wipe sweat off his hairline, his eyes finding the other, their face illuminated by warm porchlight. “hey, lemme’ ask you something. and i swear i won't make fun,” he says, springing forward in his seat suddenly and leveling an inquisitive stare at them. “have you ever thought about kissing me?”

jesse’s still a good friend, right? he has all their favorite snacks laid out on his coffee table, extra blankets out in case it gets cold, and the television at a respectable volume so they can still talk during the ads. that has to counterbalance the way he’s been avoiding leyla like a plague and why the majority of his texts in the week have consisted of either ‘Ok’ or a thumbs up emoji and only sometimes both. his mind is still stuck on the back porch some days ago. what he should say to leyla and what he wants to say will overlap one minute and then dart apart the next. he feels insane and whacked out! but god, is he the king of composure as he drops into the empty space on the couch beside her, a can of beer in each hand. as he hands one over with special care not to graze fingers, his eyes are fixed to the screen ( must be the most interesting ad in the world, given how his gaze is unshakeable ) and he half-heartedly says out the side of his mouth, “it’s cool you were able to join. i thought i’d be rooting for the packers alone again.” 

back at the scene of sin - the patio, facing the backyard. it's dusk this time around. instead of cheap beer, he's working on a can of coke. it went flat fifteen minutes ago, neglected where it sits by the leg of his chair. jesse sits low in his seat, ankles crossed and thumbs twiddling together where they sit on his chest. he wishes it were darker out; maybe then he could sneak his furtive glances toward serayah with more subtlety. as it stands, his eyes dance back and forth from the too-long grass to her face. things have been ... normal since. like the kiss never happened. and maybe that's for the best, but jesse feels a little insane about it anyway. he's run out of work stories now. a long, slow exhale slips past his lips. "soooo ... the weather, huh?" a simper curls his lips. "are we at that point in life yet? they say it happens to everyone."