Letting Go

"It is a much easier, and truth to be told more feasible, to do it like this, isn't it?" she asked heartily with a smile.

Glancing down at her, he gave her a sneer. "Like you would've known!"

With a smile never left her lips, she gave him a fit of bubbly giggles and an answer, "But, actually, you don't quite know me that well, do you? I've come close to doing this, but never like this. I prefer it like this, more than any other. This is... perfect."

The guy looked at her questioningly. "I never thought you were..."

"What? Prude? Some people say that I am..." she explained, all the while twisting her blonde hair, "Do you like to watch?"

"I hardly think that's the appropriate topic right now."

"But, no, really. Do you?" she insisted on inquiring.

He sighed. "Well, actually. I do. I'm a fan of it, you know."

"You're confusing me." she said with a laugh. "But, do you know Cassie of Skins?"

"The mental case one?"

"Oh, wow--"

"Yeah, with that precise catchphrase."

"I never thought you'd be this... negative. But, people keep on comparing myself with him."

He sniggered. "Don't suppose you have a similar syndrome like her."

She brushed a flock of her hair off her face and stared at him with wonder. "Do you... respect people who live somehow more normal?"

He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but then he waved his right hand in front of their faces. "Doesn't matter anymore, now, does it?

"Well, I suppose..." she said, this time in a whimsical tone. "Are we really going to do this?"

"And what it this that you refer to?" he asked, almost quizzically, but definitely teasingly.

"Letting go." she said.

He nodded and offered his hand. The smile from her face was gone.

And together, they jumped.