Blinking away the image of that skin, Kona shifted over, made room for Keira when she sat next to him. The area was comfortable and Kona figured that the girls seemed to have set it up when the common room downstairs didn’t invite shared TV watching. Their set was decent, not really that big, but the color was great. At that moment, Kona could really concentrate on the damn TV or the music spilling out from the speakers.
Keira smelled different, another flowery scent he couldn’t place and he tried hard to keep his inhales short and brief, to focus on what was happening on the screen. But damn it was hard. It was also giving him a headache.
“The quality in this one isn’t the best.” Keira leaned against the cushion and kept rambling. Kona didn’t care, he liked how excited she seemed to be as the music started growing louder. “The librarian told me they had to convert it from a VHS because the company doesn’t sell the ’85 London original cast version, which sucks because aside from seeing it live…” she trailed off, stopping when she looked up at Kona. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m good.” He tried for casualness, not wanting Keira to know how she was affecting him, how just the excitement in her voice had him fighting back the smile that threatened to split across his face. He rested back, slid down on his elbow and moved his long legs in front of him. They nearly touched the TV.
As the musical began, Keira sat up, lifted the remote to increase the volume. Eyes wide, she started to explain the premise, her smile growing and Kona didn’t stop his grin this time. “So Valjean is prisoner 24601. He’s been in prison for nineteen years and is being paroled by Javert, who is a total bastard. But he’s going to have to display a ticket of leave, which means he’ll be shunned because he’s an ex-con.”
“How’s he supposed to eat or work if no one will help him?”
“The Bishop of Digne offers him food and shelter.”
And then, despite the completely lame idea that Kona is sitting in a girl’s dorm room, not touching her, having her seemingly more interested in a bunch of stuffy singing actors on a stage, Kona lets the music pull his attention and then, just as Keira said, the story, and the girl, completely infected him.
“That was the saddest fucking thing I have ever seen in my life.”
Kona’s face had lost all expression and if Keira didn’t know better, she’d swear the huge linebacker had tears in his eyes. She tried not to laugh, but then Kona rubbed his neck and moved his face against his shoulder. She felt almost sorry for him.
“Hey, it’s okay, you know. It’s just a story.”
When he nodded, still not looking at her, she touched his shoulder and Kona covered his face between his large fingers. “I hope to God I never have to hear that ‘Dreamed a Dream’ song again.” That time, Keira did laugh and Kona joined her. “Seriously, that shit is depressing.”
Keira noticed how relaxed he seemed, how being in her space had taken away the bite from his voice, how his wide shoulders weren’t set as rigid as he normally kept them. It made her hope for things she had no business giving any thought to. “Well, it was set after the French Revolution. Not exactly a love fest.”
“I guess not.” Kona’s face had gone slack, stern and Keira noticed his forehead was lined with tension. When he rubbed his fingers into his temples, she was reminded of her father’s migraines and how they crippled him.
“Headache?”
“Yeah. My eyes aren’t great and squinting to see the TV didn’t help.” Kona looked at her, shrugging his shoulder, dismissing his pain. “You got an aspirin?”
“No, sorry. I’m not big on pills.”
“Aspirin isn’t a pill. Not that kind anyway.”
Keira had heard it before. Her mother practically lived off pills, but she didn’t like depending on something unnatural to make her feel better. It was something her father always preached against, though considering his hobbies that made him a huge hypocrite, but just then, an idea came to her. Despite her fear that she would be sending Kona the wrong message, she couldn’t help herself. He pulled his eyes nearly closed and took to rubbing his temples again.
“Would you like me to help you?” Keira didn’t trust the flirty smirk on his face. She’d been around Kona enough by then to understand when he was having lewd, typical boy thoughts, but she dismissed the expression with a quick eye roll. “Not like that, jackass. Come here,” she said, motioning for Kona to lay his head in her lap. He hesitated, but only for a moment and then quickly obeyed her.