He withdrew from the beach after a while, smiling as he saw his friends having fun like kids. It was amusing to him how alcohol sometimes worked as a truth serum, bringing out the truest child within each person. He turned back and started walking towards the girl who was with them only in the physical sense of the words. Her mind, as anyone could clearly tell, was elsewhere. He went and sat next to her, silently watching and trying to demystify this person who sat next to him. Every time he had tried to do that in the past, he had discovered there were far too many layers to her personality for anyone to be able to understand her at all. He watched as her fingers thrummed against her knees, playing to some music on her mind. Her hands were.. interesting, to say the least. She had those long fingers that artists are known to have, with rings on way too many fingers. She wore some junky bracelets on her left wrist, beneath which he could see faint scars peeking out. Her right wrist was ...
A fresh start at writing. Yes, again! Thanks to my procrastinating skills. Although, I am sure, this will be more spontaneous than my last effort, considering I scribble a lot these days. Comparatively! :P