in her head

“get the hell out of my brain,” she told him.
he smiled, pleased at his uncanny ability to fit his words to the thoughts in her head instead of the phrases in her mouth.
he promised to get out, and to stay out, but he was still smiling.
she thinks it’s because he knew.
knew that he was somehow already stuck in there.
she thinks he likes it in her brain.
he’s likely got an armchair and a nice blanket and he’s curled up all comfortable, watching her thoughts blink through like channels flipping.
she secretly thinks he’s been there for a while.
perhaps the first night they spent hours wandering in the dark, he sent out a little bit of himself and it got in her brain and decided to stay.
only she didn’t know it was there, or how firmly it was entrenched, until they were sitting in the truck at night.
and now that little bit won’t shut up or give her any peace until she can go walking about with him again.
he knows all of this somehow.
he planned the whole thing.
it’s working very well for  him so far.
this bit in her brain allows him to think up a sentence that will make her knees shake.
he will take ages to say it, and stumble about on the way, and eventually land on the right  turn of phrase.
she can tell that this boy is going to have an effect on her.
this quiet boy with his seldom and carefully chosen words will win her over.
she can already feel it.
the fastest way to get to her heart is to get in her head, and he’s there.
it’s not an if, it’s a when.
so she won’t ask him again to get out of her brain.
it would be rude to kick out someone who seems so effortlessly content.
this is going to be fun.

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