Dancing In His Storm [BxB] √

18.3: A Secret Affair

AUGUST

All good things must come to an end. I remembered someone had said that or wrote that and now, the good thing between Ambrose and me just ended on a very positive note. He just left after taking me home and now I'm left indescribably hangover by him. I'm still having the hangover from last night's full on blast, I still feel dehydrated and my muscles are aching, but that's not even relevant because the hangover that I'm having about what happened between me and Ambrose was more powerful.

I walked tardily inside our house and my mind was still occupied by the thoughts of the one Ambrose Haylock. I've never thought of him being gay, or even liking another guy in the slightest, not even when pigs fly but surprising things in life are meant to surprise you in the most unanticipated moment.

After I having a shower, Ambrose and I ended up cooking some ramen stew and it was the most fun thing that I did with him. Both of us didn't know how to cook for shit and we had to scramble on the internet just to figure things out on our own. We watched some tutorials and stuff and somehow the end result wasn't as horrible as we both expected. It wasn't as good as some of the stews that I've tasted in my life but it wasn't as terrible as the food that they serve at the school cafeteria. We hanged out after eating like it was the most casual thing to happen between us. We did a few snuggles on the very same spot where we slept at couch and eventually I had to go home. That's the most disappointing part that I always would come. I hated that reality completely because of the fact that I'm having a good time hanging out with Ambrose. He was somehow childish and playful that I had to match his hyper energy. But all good things must come to an end and with that being said out loud, I'm looking forward for more of the good things that I'm going to experience with Ambrose.

I walked around the house almost in a dreamy manner. It seemed to me that I'm still high on that mushroom except that mushroom was in the human form of the one Ambrose Haylock. I still can't believe that Ambrose likes me after all the rough days that we had. I don't want to reminisce our fighting days but my mind was so persistent and it took me on a quick ride back to those awful days without my consent. The hate that Ambrose had for me was just intense that he's willing to beat the shit out of me but now, that hatred just morphed itself into something beautiful.

I brought myself to the fridge and it looked relatively small compared to the fridge that Ambrose had. I grabbed some orange juice hoping to quench this dryness that I have in my throat. I drank one whole glass and I still feel exemplary thirsty. I poured another glass and gulped it like I've been deprived of any liquid for the longest time. I still wanted more after finishing the whole glass but I feel like my stomach's about to burst. I ended up having to tolerate this dehydration that's been physically making me uncomfortable. I sat down on the couch and stared at the black television screen as I began to contemplate about everything.

I had a lot to learn about Ambrose today and even though I said it's a lot, it's still an overstatement compared to the wide proximity of all shadowed facts that are still clouding him. I believe there are still more that I need to uncover from the mystery that's Ambrose and I'm about to become the Nancy Drew of Mary Heights. I never really poked a lot of questions earlier, I just threw a few openings and Ambrose was the one who told a lot of thing. I think I'm perfectly glad that I didn't act like the most obnoxious fool in the room. I wanted things to flow in its natural state rather than sending ripples to the calmness of the lake.

It was quite hard for me to let the reality sink in as I pondered about the things that I've learned. Ambrose was living alone inside that big ass house with no parents or even a guardian to guide him. That's some wild revelations. I don't want to think that's the whole reason why he's the embodiment of being a jerk but it seemed like it's one of the many reasons. Living in solitary to me was very homophobic in every level. I wouldn't even last a week if I'm in standing his shoes. That alone was teaching me how to admire Ambrose and his internal ability to live in solitary. Learning about his mother was even more heartbreaking to me. Ambrose lacked the support of a loving mother and I feel awful that I'm, in a sense, struggling to relate to that. I'm in distraught that somehow, if this relationship blooms into a garden of sunflowers and bees, I might be the one to struggle in understanding him. I loved my mom and I knew she loved me unconditionally and that's probably the reason why I'm not going to relate to Ambrose if things go awry. It may be a double edge sword that could cut me in every angle that I position myself in.

I don't understand how could Ambrose's mother hate him and blame him for the death of his older brother. It's almost impossible for a mother to hate their child when they carried them inside their womb for nine months.

***

I was currently sitting at my study table as I start to do some of my home works. It took me a long time before I could stop thinking about Ambrose. I had to force myself that I need to do something in order to distract myself. I was in the middle of writing this essay when I heard my phone beep. I stared at it for some time and my mind was already going through a maelstrom of whether I should check my phone or should I continue writing. I ended up checking my phone and saw a text message from Ambrose.

AMBROSE: Hey, I really had a good time with you.

My heart jumped after reading the words and I didn't know I was already wearing the widest smile. I put my phone down and let the good feelings shroud its giddy mist all around me. I picked up my phone and I suddenly thought it's way too soon for me to send a reply. Maybe I should wait for about five minutes before responding. I did lay the phone down on the table for about five minutes before eventually picking it up to type my much awaited response.

ME: I really had a good time with you too and now I can't stop thinking about you.

I stared at the words that I have typed and I thought it's way too impulsive for me to be saying that. It's true that I'm thinking about him but I'm struggling to decide whether I should press send or not.

I ended up erasing the whole message and began typing new ones.

AMBROSE: It was fun hanging out with you.

I looked at the message and it felt a little bit dry but I already pressed the send button. Regret immediately cut right through me and the feeling wasn't that good. I started thinking that Ambrose might take this out of context and interpret it as me being cold and uninterested in him.

I waited for his response and I was already panicking. A minute passed by and then two and three. I was growing impatient until I finally received his response by minute five.

AMBROSE: I can't stop thinking about you. Thank you for not shaming me for liking you.

ME: Why would I even shame you?

I don't even know why Ambrose was thinking that I'm going to shame him to liking another dude but then I suddenly remembered I never really told Ambrose that I'm gay for real. I kept that part of me from him and If I'm right about this, he's probably thinking that this was all new to us. He's probably thinking that I'm really straight and this was something relatively foreign to me when in fact I'm actually gay.

We continued exchanging text messages mostly telling each other what we are currently doing and some inconsequential stuff. Nothing was really serious except for the feelings that I'm starting to reap from him. The interval between our responses was sneakily long, it's like were both letting a few minutes pass by before typing a new response. It's weird but I kind of like it.

The day reeled to an end and it's already dark. My parents were home andI'm still trying to finish my essay. I had to stop working on my homework justto sit down and eat dinner with my parents. My dad was upset that I didn't tellhim I'm not going home and I had to form an impromptu speech just to survivefrom the apparent trial that he had put me in. By the time we were done eatingI rushed back to my room and instead of continuing my work, I checked my phoneonly to see some missed calls from Rachel.