Feeling a Little Blue (Peyton)

Peyton liked it outside. Especially this time of year so far up north. He'd been to visit family in Maine every few years since he was young, and summer in New England was pretty damn fantastic. Better when there was air conditioning, but you couldn't get everything. Besides, there was a nice cool breeze today, and it had him in high spirits. He'd taken to wandering the school grounds when he could, running into various people, introducing himself shamelessly, and then being on his way. There were probably a few people out and about that were referring to him as that weirdly chipper kid who haunts the courtyard, but he could deal with that.

He was wandering as per usual when he heard a faint hum of singing, and the more distinct chords of a guitar coming to him over the breeze. It was pretty, and it made him curious. He tried to follow the sound, and ended up at the edge of the pond, feeling slightly awkward as he just stood and watched a pretty brunette singing to herself. She probably wanted this to be private. But, erm. Well, he was here now. And she sounded great, if a little... forlorn. The little yellow seedlings of hope and joy bounced in his mental pig pen, begging him to let them fly, but he reminded himself that it was better to see what was wrong before trying to fix it.

Clearing his throat, to alert her to his presence, he offered her a crooked smile and a weak wave. "Heeey..." His voice slid, in a sort of awkward 'yeah, I know I'm interrupting, sorry about that' way. "Um... I'm Peyton, hi," he explained, as though he were introducing himself to something that might strike at any second. He didn't get too close. These kids with powers tended to be a little volatile, he'd noticed, and the up close and personal approach wasn't usually appreciated. "I just heard you singing and wanted to say that you sound great." His hands were buried in his pockets, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible.

Right, girl. She was a girl. She was most definitely a girl. As per usual, Peyton found it harder to focus when that was the case. But she seemed a little too shy to practice his (lame) attempts at flirting, so he should probably set that idea aside. Though he had to admit the way she bit her lip only drew his attention to her mouth.

No. Bad Peyton. She was sad. You should figure out why.

He was mostly grateful she hadn't gotten all mad at him like some of the kids here did. His relieved smile only grew as she introduced herself. Nice! This was progress! Especially since she seemed shy. Shy people were good to talk to. Maybe it was because he'd end up dominating the conversation, but he liked to think it was because he felt some sense of accomplishment getting them to come out of their shells.

"Uhm, would you like to sit? I could probably play you any song you asked, within reason of course."

He perked up a bit at that. Yes! This whole not-getting-into-her-personal-space thing had worked! And he was invited to get closer! He grinned at her, though he tried to temper it, not wanting to scare her off with his enthusiasm. That would probably be creepy. He should avoid creepy.

"Really? That would be really cool!" He sat a couple of feet from her, careful not to get too close because their awkwardness needed space. He cocked his head to the side as he glanced at her, pleasantly surprised at her willingness to endure him despite her shyness. "Hm..." he looked down at his hands, trying to think of something she might know, something that wouldn't be too complicated. "Do you know any Jason Mraz? Maybe... um, Live High? I love that song."

The reason he happened to like this song was also the same reason it came to mind when looking at this somewhat glum girl. It was all about being happy. And she looked like she could use a little musical advice. Things always seemed a little more meaningful when they came through music.

((Original))

"Jason Mraz? Of course, anyone who doesn't know any of his songs clearly live in a very lonely box."

Peyton laughed aloud at that - a bright and uninhibited bark of laughter. His open-mouthed grin was a little goofy, but he couldn't help it. Not only was he in a great mood - made better by her openness to endure his company - but she was actually doing really well. Way better than he could ever do. He found himself kinda nodding along, staring at her without even realizing. She was really good. Way better than one might think from her initial shyness.

"Sorry, I uh, I'm no Jason Mraz, but that's about as decent as I can sing his stuff."

"No, that was-" Peyton shook his head, in a sort of happy disbelief, "That was really really good. You should do this as a thing! Like... a job thing!" He sounded a little like an idiot, unable to convey the concept of musician as career, but he didn't especially care. Wait. Wait just one second, was she blushing? Wow, that was... Awesome. Was she blushing because of him, or because she was embarrassed about her singing? He really hoped it was the former.

"You seem pretty- sound, you sound pretty," he hurriedly corrected himself, glancing away a little sheepishly. Yeah, ok, he'd blown that. "Sorry - just forget I said that." He laughed, shrugging it off, willing to forget about the whole business if she wasn't interested. Which, in his mind, she obviously wasn't.

Oh no, she was blushing - he'd probably embarrassed her. Right. He should stop doing that to people! He tended to make people do that, he couldn't figure out if he was just prying too much, or what. Oh, wait - she was saying thanks? Was that a sincere thanks? Had he done something right? Wait, wait, wait! Was that blush for him? It might actually be for him! The concept made him a little giddy.

"Any other requests?"

"Oh God, if you let me keep requesting things we'll be here forever!" He laughed, "Like - I'm just... I will keep you here past midnight as a hostage jukebox." He joked, shaking his head, still grinning. He wasn't kidding, either. He was delighted to have someone willing to play whatever he asked of them.

Nope, nope, he had to get in the right mindset. Whenever he liked girls he tended to mess it up. He needed to just think of her as a friend. Just a friend. Just a friend and nothing else. Besides, he didn't even know her, not really. Hm... what else was a good song she might know? "Do you know Dan Mangan? He's Canadian, pretty god too - There's that great song he has about robots?" He asked, hopefully. It was a great song. All about how robots need love too. Cute. She'd probably like it. "But if you don't know that... um... Any Fratellis?" He laughed. Not that the Fratellis were really meant to be played on an acoustic guitar, but who knew? He honestly didn't care what she played, he just liked seeing her light up when she did.

The good music was a plus, though.

((Original 3rd link))

"It's not a problem, really. This is a good way to keep me distracted."

Distracted? So he hadn't misinterpreted her glumness earlier. What was she needing to be distracted from? He bit back the urge to ask as she started playing. He could wait. Besides, it was kinda cute the way she was fussing with the chords, fumbling until she got it right. Gah - he needed to stop thinking about that. What was it with girls always being cute? It was so hard to not stare at her - her lips especially - but he pulled his eyes away.

The more he listened to it, the more he realized - y'know, these chords were an awful lot like another song he knew. He found himself sort of humming Jason Mraz's 'I'm Yours' over the chorus, trying to find how it fit - he had to cut out whenever certain chords came in, to avoid clashing, but it was fun to find how they overlapped a bit. His voice wasn't especially strong, he was sort of just humming to himself, and even that was a little croaky from lack of practice. But it made him smile anyway, even as he avoided her eyes. He was kind of shocked she hadn't stopped playing at the utter awfulness of his voice. He never claimed to be a singer, even if he did it whenever he was alone in his car, or in the shower, or really most times there was an empty room. As much as he loved the sound of his own voice, he just assumed other people wouldn't.

As the song finished, he risked a glance at her. Her eyes were just fluttering open, like she were just waking up, and his stomach tugged with that very familiar 'wow she's beautiful' feeling that he got far too often. He had a bad habit of crushing on just about every girl he met. This was not a good sign. He should stop with this whole business. Especially since - he realized with a jolt - he was starting to recognize a new seedling popping up in his mental pig pen and he didn't want to see what it was. He had a feeling he wouldn't be happy about manipulating things like that in a person.

So he banished it, which was surprisingly easy. For some reason, controlling his power came surprisingly easily to him - so far at least. The only things he'd ever really used were joy, hope, and happiness, and those were the yellow seedling shapes. They seemed fine to stay in their pen, perfectly content to just bop around on their own until he decided to use them. It hadn't occurred to Peyton that there even were other feelings he could manipulate in others, but the tiny pink and red seedlings sprouting in his head reminded him that there was a lot he didn't know still.

It was lucky for him that anger, violence, or confusion had never entered his mind as something he could manipulate, so they hadn't yet manifested themselves in his arsenal. When they did, or any other violent surge of any of his feelings, it probably wouldn't be pleasant. But he had yet to experience that. So it never crossed his blissfully ignorant mind.

What was on his mind was Ellie. How could he tell her that he wanted to hear about why she needed a distraction? Maybe it was a little nosy, but he just wanted to know why she was upset. He wanted to help.

That had to be some kind of sign, right? Well, was it? This was too confusing. Girls were confusing. Peyton found himself drawn to her again, and he had to remind himself that this was how it started every time. The best thing he could do was just be a good friend. The worst thing he could do was to start hitting on her on the assumption that she wanted him to. Cause she probably didn't. But then she did that thing where she chewed her lip and Peyton couldn't help but look, and it was very very frustrating.

Turning away from her, to keep from getting distracted - because it was distracting - he picked at some grass under his shoe. "...You know... um..." he shifted, awkwardly, not sure if he was being too concerned for someone this girl had just met. He was just that kind of person. "If you want to talk about anything," he suggested, hopefully, "I'm pretty good at just listening. And possibly making you feel better." He managed a tentative smile, hoping she'd take him up on his offer.

He might have a slight problem taking on the problems of others. He couldn't help it, he wanted to help people and wanted to get them out of their own heads so they could see the lighter side of things. There was always a silver lining, Peyton sometimes just had to be the meteorologist who pointed it out.

"It's complicated...as lame as that sounds."

It didn't sound lame at all. It sounded like nearly all of the deep conversations he'd dragged himself into. He was like an emotional blanket for some reason. Something that just sat there and absorbed all the emotion, something that wrapped around a person and comforted them. He considered if it would be appropriate, but then decided - fuck it, I'm not forcing it on her-

"Do you maybe... want a hug?" He offered, careful not to just start hugging her. He wasn't creepy. Really, he wasn't. She probably thought he was creepy. Why had he said that? Well, he did like to offer hugs - totally platonic, non-romantic, just to make someone feel better hugs - but maybe that was something that should've been left for a later time. But she looked like she could use one. Hell, everyone could use one. A hug and a laugh. Everyone.

"Complicated is okay. I'm not exactly eager to get anywhere." Realizing she may have really meant 'it's kind of personal,' he hurriedly added, "If you want to share, that is." He was so tempted to scoot a little closer, to just give her hand a comforting squeeze, but he didn't know her well enough. The best he could offer was the verbal proposal for what his gut was telling him to do. Give a hug, and listen.