Blaze (boyxboy)

Chapter 25

☆Blaze☽

Chapter 25:

         A week later things were almost normal. Whiskey was back at school- though his sling served as a remembrance of what had happened. I could tell he hated it, always having to call on people for help. He had even been assigned a scribe since his notes were now illegible. Things between Beatle and I were still tense, but I tried to pretend nothing had happened. But how could I? There was no way it was going to work out. We weren’t those typical love-struck teens talking about marital plans and a house on a farm with our four children and dog Chester, arguing over which way our hypothetical rocking chairs should be placed to watch the sun together when we were 80 and decrepit. No, I liked to believe we were more realistic than that- or at least I was. I mean, neither of us had even said the sacred L-word and we were thinking about making it work for essentially four years without being together except the odd weekend and summers? I knew I was being cynical, but the words that ran through my head multiple times were fat chance.

            Then again, I was accepting defeat before trying, which was painfully pitiful.

  I heard a bang on my window, but passed it off as a bird-or more likely snow falling. I squeezed my stress ball again in the darkness of my room. It had become a nightly ritual, lying in bed in the darkness and squeezing that ball. It didn’t work for shit, but it was something to do. I felt it puncture in my palm from my nails digging into it- something I wasn’t ever aware of. Sand started to pour out onto my chest and I tried to cradle it in cupped hands.

            “Shit,” I murmured. Deciding the garbage was too far away and sand was pouring out like I had just released captured ocean, I opened the window with one hand, attempting to throw the sand out the window as it poured onto my floor. Once I finally got it open I paused just long enough to watch a snowball sail into my bedroom.

            “What the fuck!” I threw the deflated stress ball out the window and leaned out, squinting without glasses to see a figure waving at me.

            “Beatle?” I called out the window. I saw the blurry figure nod and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. The clock read near midnight on a Sunday, why would he be here? And why would he assume I was awake?

            “Can I come in through the door this time?” He yelled back at me, laughing. I backed up into my room, nearly slipping in the puddle that was a melted snowball. I groaned in frustration at the prospect of cleaning it up, and then began my tiptoed descent to the front door.

            He was leaning against the porch railing when I opened it, a hand brushing over his hair. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he smiled a little.

            “You could have texted me,” I stated as he silently entered the house.

            He slid off his shoes and let his jacket fall from his shoulders. Beatle simply said, “You would have said no.”

            “You don’t know that,” I snorted and he raised an eyebrow.

            “Are you saying that you would have said yes?”

            “No…”

            “Exactly.” He raised his thumb to trail from my bottom lip downwards, and I had to step away before I became putty in his hands. I had more self-control than that- or at least I hoped I did.

            “Upstairs?” He asked, but it wasn’t much of a question since he was already half way up. I followed after him, hoping that he would slip in the puddle in my room. Beatle skipped the top step, knowing how it squeaked.