3She looked in his eyes for answers, but he didn't know the question.
Sighing, she turned away. She played with a pencil by twirling it in her long fingers. Silently, he watched her game and tried to understand what she expected from him.
He glanced at her, afraid to say something.
Impatiently, she waited for him to find courage. Putting down the pencil, she started to drum on the desk with her fingers. Erratic rhythms filled the messy room, but the plushe animals were unmoved by the music.
He was not. Searching eye-contact with her, he wished she'd stop being so stubborn.
But actually he didn't.
She was so appealing when she was stubborn, with her slight frown and pouting lips. Carefully, he extended his hand to touch her pale cheek.
Startled, she withdrew.
Hurt, he withdrew.
There was no question, he slowly realised. Only a girl who didn't trust her boy enough. He stood up and left the room.
The drumming stopped.
A sob was heard.
A poor attempt at getting my write-and-review-jitters back. Method; stare at the blank screen until it gets so boring that you just have to write something. It's more different from my usual style than I thought.