I could tell just by looking at him, that he had never experienced what I had. So sweet and innocent, his beauty truly did help. As, like, for example, right now. I�m sitting in the chair thinking about him, watching his every move. He�s sitting on the couch, right leg out stretched across the couch, left bent slightly to hold the book up that he�s writing in. Bent forward slightly at the shoulders, he seems intent on what he�s doing. Every once in a while he�ll look up at me in thought, his eyes and all together expression holding some sort of curiosity as I return the held stare. Then he�ll look away and turn back to his writing once more.
His attention back on his writing, I�ll smile. He says I never do. I don�t, atleast not when he�s looking. Maybe some day I will, but not today�I got up. Immediately his head snapped up to look at me. I could see his eyes wander over my standing form before he returned to his writing. And he�s the talkative one. Always a smile on those thin lips, so sweet and innocent. I don�t know where I would be with out him. Not a day passes when I don�t fantasize that this friendship will turn out to be something more, but I don�t know if he feels the same way.
Walking back into the livingroom, I set a cup of coffee down infront of him. He looked up and took the cup. �Thanks,� his voice was quiet and sweet. I wonder what he�s thinking? I nodded a reply and sat down again, sipping quietly t the cup I had in my hands. The silence returned. The only noise was the faint scratching of his pen against the paper.
I picked up one of the few magazines on the table, folded back as not to show the cover. Why? He was on it. �Don�t read that, come on,� he looked up at me.
My eyes flicked up. �What�s it about?�
�Stupid stuff. They talked to my secretary.� He sighed. �Again. I need to do something about her.�
�Fire her.�
�What?! I can�t!�
�Sometimes you have to do things you don�t want to. You know that.� I tried to sound like I always did, emotionless, but I must have failed because he looked at me confused.
�Are you okay?�
I blinked. �Yeah, why?� my questions must have seemed like child�s play to him.
He shook his head. �You seem�different to me, some how. You�re not as, what�s the word, distant, anymore.�
�No?� I raised an eyebrow and he cracked a smile for me. I could feel my heart skip a beat as I calmly took a sip of my coffee. �Then how do I seem? Besides distant?�
�I can�t describe it to you. You�ve changed somehow.� He set his pen in the book and closed it.
I set my coffee cup down. �The war�s over.� I felt myself shrug. Something I never do.
�Then why are you still here?�
�Do you want me to leave?� I got up.
�NO!� he jumped slightly. I saw it and he knew I did. I stopped, partly standing. �I mean if you want to, I�m not going to stop you.�
�Hmm?� with a visible smile I sat back down. He looked at me bewildered at the fact that I had smiled. Ignoring his flushed face, I picked up my cup again.
�W�would you have really left?� his feet hit the floor and he leaned forward onto his knees.
I nodded. �If you wanted me to, yes I will.�
I saw his face drop slightly as he brought his fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat. �D�do you want to stay?�
�I�m still here. You know I would have left long ago if I was going to.�
He sighed and I saw his shoulders drop. �I know. I�m sorry.�
�Why are you sorry?� I felt myself slip into a chuckle as I spoke. His whole expression lit up.
�I�I don�t know.� He shook his head.
I set my cup down. This might be headed someplace, but I�m not totally sure yet. My fear is that his thoughts are different then mine and I�m taking my chances on being hurt again. I looked up and realized he was watching me. His head was cocked slightly to one side, his entire intent expression making me loose all my composure as I slumped back in the chair. He cocked his head the other way and got up, picking up my cup. �You done with that?�
�I got it.� I reached for it and brushed his hand. Simple contact like that was unknown to us and we both pulled back away from the cup. With a quick gasp, his hand stayed in midair, frozen, unable to move. I finally managed to pick up the cup. We walked in silence down the hall to the kitchen, where, after placing the cups in the sink, to be taken care of later; we sat down at the counter. Across from eachother like we always sat.
�I feel�� he stopped and bit his lip. Whatever it was he was trying to say, he couldn�t say it. �What�s going on here?�
�What do you mean?� I stayed calm, expecting the worst. This was it. Once again I was getting in over my head.
�This. Us. You. I don�t know.�
�That�s what I want to know. What exactly is going on here?�
He sighed again. His voice quiet, but stern as the same time. �You tell me.�
I blurted it out. �I love you.� I watched as his face dropped. That�s when I realized what I had said. I stumbled over my words for a second after, until he stopped me with a wave of his hand.
�How can you say that?�
�I don�t know.� I shook my head. �The wars have left my heart unable to love.�
�But yet you say it to me?!� I could hear his voice shake.
�Don�t�please.� I reached my hand out, but dropped it quickly. He looked at my hand as it hit the counter, then up to my face.
His eyes held a questioning gaze. His blue eyes must be the most spectacular thing I�ve ever seen. His lips parted to speak, but he stopped. �Do you mean what you say?�
I got a tad bit defensive. �I don�t care how you receive this. I can handle it, but you know I mean every word I say. I�m sure of this, more sure then I�ve been before! Atleast give me enough credit to admit it to you.�
Things fell quiet as he cast his eyes to the counter, where my hand still lay. I watched his eyes, searching for some answer. A third time he sighed and looked up at me. �You�ve taught me a lot. You all have through the years. But one thing that sticks out is something I know you were told�act on your emotions. If you are taking that advice, then you are in fact acting on your own thoughts and desires. I understand and admire that. I�ve never been good at acting on what my true emotions told me. Lots of people aren�t, but I can�t tell you how I feel�� he dropped his head a little and got up.
I watched, not showing the sadness and rejection I felt. I knew this was a possibility when I started this whole�he stopped. Standing infront of the stool on which I sat. He studied me quietly as I turned to face him.
�I was told once that to communicate, sometimes things need to get cut out.�
What was he getting at? I raised an eyebrow calmly. He returned my gaze quietly. Then, without notice, he leaned forward and kissed me! Pressing a hand to the back of my head, he pulled me closer into the awkward kiss. I knew it was my first, but what about him?! Had he actually had some sort of experience and never said anything? Anything was possible.
I pulled away, my hands on his shoulders. Breathing slightly harder, I once again stumbled over my words before I managed to blurt out��What?� dazed and confused as I was, I remember the smile.
�Sometimes you can�t speak to communicate. Actions overpower words some days.�
I blinked. �So then�are you�what?� I said again. �Why?�
�There is no why. Can�t this be as simple as you want it to be? Don�t think I didn�t know why you stuck around. I�m not that blind, I know,� he kissed my forehead. A gentle simple kiss. �I love you too.�
I know my face dropped. I could feel myself loose the control of the muscles in my face. I dammed myself for it. I never loose my composure, but all he did was smile.
He pulled the other stool around and sat down, his hands resting on his knees. �You seemed shocked. Why? Didn�t expect me to feel the same way no doubt? We are both inexperienced, I know. I can tell.�
I blinked. �But then why didn�t you bring it up?�
�I couldn�t bring myself to. I didn�t know how I would react, let alone you.� He placed his hand on mine.
I tensed, fighting my natural reaction to jerk away. His eyes were so certain that what he was saying was true, that I couldn�t help but lean forward, my head against his chest and start to cry. I couldn�t stop. I couldn�t control myself and he just wrapped his arms around me and let me cry. It felt so right, him and me, and I didn�t want to move. That just made me cry harder, the tears rolled down my cheeks and off onto his shirt. My breath became ragged and I gulped for air as my shoulders shook uncontrollably. He held me closer, his voice soothing, trying to calm me, as he stroked the hair on the back of my head. Finally I managed to look up at him. I knew my eyes were bloodshot, my nose was running and I was still breathing hard. All he did was smile.
�Feel any better?� he raised an eyebrow. Shaped perfectly to his eyes. I nodded weakly as I swallowed, my breath returning.
�I�I don�t know what that was about.� I had lost all track of time at this point, but knew I had been crying for a good long while. He never lost that smile. Testing, I brought my hand up and let my fingers brush his cheek. He closed his eyes and tilted his head into my touch, one hand falling from my back to my chest.
I didn�t know about him, but a wave of emotion not known to me, swept over my body as I felt myself start to harden. I dropped my free hand to try to not draw attention, but at the touch of my hand, it grew worse. The touch stirred and excited me in some way; I could barely control myself. But it was unknown to me and there fore I could not identify with it. Blinking, I snapped back to reality as I realized my hand was still against his cheek. His gaze upon me now held a want, a need, that, until we were older, I couldn�t explain. The want and need of being with another, as we were now. On personal affairs, that were unknown to the public�s eye.
He placed his hand over mine and kissed at my fingertips as his other hand searched wildly at my chest. Not caring, I stood up. I took him in my arms for a second awkward kiss, but it wasn�t as bad this time. Longer, we knew a little more then a moment before on how the other�s lips worked with and against the other. How, with heads tilted at the right angel, you could get even closer to the other. My lips over his, we stayed locked a little longer then before, our lack of breathing, the only thing pulling us back.
Then I remembered his hand on my chest and so did he, as he pulled back quickly. �No, it�s okay,� I nodded slightly trying to ignore the growing pain in my groin.
Silently, he reached his hand out to try to brush my hopeless bangs from my right eye, but it didn�t work and he laughed once more. �Now what?� his voice was barely above a whisper.
I shrugged. �I don�t know. I�m just as inexperienced as you.� This conversation was getting stupider with every spoken word. �But I do know one thing�� he looked as me in question. His eyes pleading with mine. �Be true; act on your emotions.�
His eyes grew slightly wider as, with, no sudden warning; he kissed me a third time and his hand slid to the back pocket of my pants, grasping at my flesh through my jeans. I jumped forward away from the touch, my hips meeting his and he grunted slightly at the touch. My hands were at my sides and I slowly rested one on his hip, expecting a reaction, but I got none. I couldn�t take it anymore! I felt myself choke and swallow as I pulled back, then stepped back, motioning to him so he would follow. He came quietly as we wandered back through the halls, side by side, to the livingroom.
He pushed me down onto the couch, crawling over me, sitting on my stomach, his knees on each side of me as he fumbled at zipper and button to me jeans. My hand snapped and grabbed his. �Wha�what are you doing?!�
�What you told me to do�� he leaned forward and kissed my nose. �Following and acting on my emotions. I can�t tell you why, but it just feels right.�
With my other hand, I ran it through his hair. �Me too.� I let his hands go and with my hand, fumbled at his jeans. This, too, was awkward. Two inexperienced teens trying to do something unknown to them. It�s quite funny actually to image it, but everyone�s been there at one point.
Somehow I managed to undo his pants single handedly and he stood straight on his knees as he pulled them off, then doing the same to mine, throwing them at the floor. Then he sat back and kissed me once again, both his hands sliding up my chest, under my shirt. He pulled it off my body, whether I wanted it done or not and couldn�t get his off fast enough. Was this going where I thought it was going?! In a way I hoped so, in others, I was deadly afraid of what was to come. I�m pretty sure he was too, for after he got his shirt off, he stopped, as if dazed at the fact that this was really happening.
For some unknown reason, I placed my hand flat against his stomach, my other hand on his back, pulling him down. He slid his legs back between mine; my left leg now bent against the couch as he had been sitting earlier.
His bare flesh against mine was warmer then I thought possible and my heart skipped a beat. His hand slid down my stomach to my inner thigh, where he left it, not doing a thing otherwise. We seemed lost, neither of us knowing what to do. Then that feeling washed over me again and this time it took control. I, almost, unwillingly against myself, stripped the boxers from both our persons and, just as he did, slid my hand down my stomach to his thigh. Only, almost uncontrollably, I twisted my hand and pressed my fingers against his erection.
He arced back away from me a little at my touch, forcing his hips against mine, still more, causing my hand to hit his, as, out of reaction, he grabbed me in a forceful hold. I almost cried out, the touch felt so good, but I bit my lip and forced myself to stay quiet. At times like these, some days I wish I wasn�t so disciplined in my actions. He did cry out, his eyes rolling back in his head, as I equaled the pressure he was applying to me, rubbing the length with my thumb.
He felt it too. He must have, as he came crashing back down on my chest, his other hand against the back of my head. I kept up the torture I was applying to him, it felt so right, as he tightened his grip around a handful of my short hair and pushed me up for a kiss. Strong, forceful, passionate, all those words that can be described for a kiss, I felt at once. The rumors I had heard from friends seemed true, this had to be one of the best things I�ve experienced so far! The question was, how much better would it get? All this was new territory, unvisited by us. We had both probably done things normal teenage boys did, but the feelings I felt now were totally different. They weren�t as strong then as they were now. The satisfaction was different in some way I couldn�t explain, but I hadn�t even peaked in my excitement yet. Neither had he. We were on a different plain now.
And there seemed to be no turning back.
�What are we doing?!� he sat back on his knees and I looked up at him, shaking my head. Not now�this couldn�t be happening now! I didn�t know what we were doing either, but it felt so right. He knew it, I knew it. So then why were we hesitating?
He turned and sat back against the couch, hugging one of the pillows, feet swinging on the floor as I sat up. Dropping my right leg to the floor, I touched his shoulder, still not speaking.
�Is this right?� his voice was a whisper and I felt my heart dive for the floor. Was my feeling true? Did he in fact love me differently then I, him? It couldn�t be true! No, I wouldn�t allow it. I felt the anger build, but pushed it to fade. How could I stay mad at him? Even if this was only a fantasy, never to happen again, I could never stay mad at him.
I picked up our shirts and handed him his. He took it silently and cradled that in his arms as well. Realizing he wasn�t going to speak again, I took my chances. �What do you think?� I pulled my shirt on.
Slowly, he turned his gaze to mine. Eyes wide, as if he had seen a ghost, pupils slightly dilated, sweat dripping down his face. �I don�t know.� The realization seemed to hit him like a brick. �I don�t know!�
Things end just as suddenly as they start. I got up; knowing nothing more would come of the time here. Picking up my pants, I pulled them on and turned to him as I did the button and zipper. �I�m sorry.�
�Why?� he looked up at me. Still sitting on the couch, he hadn�t even moved. �You didn�t force anything. I�m willing.�
It�s amazing how much control you can have over your emotions. I swallowed, forcing myself to stand there. Although I would have preferred to fondle the little blonde right then! �Still. I feel��
He stood up, dropping the pillow on the couch. He pulled his shirt on, it falling, being a lot longer then I thought. �I think we feel the same way. Both of us. It�s no one�s responsibility. We acted, not thinking. Am I right?� I nodded, unable to speak. He read my mind perfectly.
Finally, upon dropping my head, I spoke. �I don�t deserve you.�
�Don�t.� he made me look up by forcing my head up with his hand at my chin. It has to be those eyes that make me feel so helpless. Not in a bad way, but I just can�t seem to think straight when I watch his eyes. �Don�t say things like that. You deserve whatever you think you do. Snap outta it.�
I turned my head away. I could feel the tears burning my eyes, but I�m not going to cry. �Don�t tell me what to say. You are. Too good, too pure. I�ve done and shed too much blood to be forgiven.�
�I forgive you!� his voice cracked and I looked back to see the tears on his eyes. Did he feel my same rejections? �Doesn�t that count?�
�I don�t know.� I whispered. �Don�t cry.� I wiped a tear away with my thumb.
He pulled away and grabbed his pants that had fallen to the table. He seemed upset, he probably was and it was all my fault. �I�m not.� I could feel the burning of his words as they hissed from his lips.
Turning, he walked out, leaving me standing in the livingroom. After a second, I felt the anger once more and kicked out at the couch. The helpless piece of furniture bit back, leaving me hopping on one foot, rubbing my toes.
Humans are far more stupid then we all think. If a Human can mess something so good, like this, as I have, he or she, truly is stupid. I didn�t follow, even though I knew I should have. I fought that instinct too. To comfort. I never was good at that.
I snapped to the window as I heard his car start. Who knew where he was going, and I knew he�d be back. This was his house. But it would give me the time I needed to pack my things, the few that I had. I think it�s time that I go. Some times you just have to walk away.