Souls Entwined (boyxboy) (On Hold)

Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

Wet steam wafted around my face as I ran a towel haphazardly through my hair. Water droplets traced their outlines down my bare chest as I wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror. I met my own vivid blue gaze and stared into their depths.

It was impossible to avoid the underlying happiness that shone from within their waves. They seemed too bright, too excited to belong to me. Everyone knew me as the sad boy who lost his sister; I wasn’t allowed to be happy, yet here I was, happier than humanly possible.

I was as happy as one could possibly be. 

It almost didn’t feel fair to be as happy without my sister by my side and with a boy who still hadn’t committed himself to me. Honestly, I still didn’t know if he would ever fully commit himself to me. 

Did I even have the right to ask him?

I only just met him, yet here I was, fully ready to give myself to him. I still wasn’t even sure exactly sure how my southern boy felt about me. It wasn’t like I was obtuse to the world around me; Matthew just confused the ever lasting poo out of me. In one moment, my southern boy would be completely open and warm; however, in a matter of seconds, he would cut off and withdraw into this cold shell outside of my reach.

Shaking my head, I dropped the towel and ran my fingers through my damp hair. “Stop it, Alex. Don’t over think every single detail; just take a deep breath and let what happens happen,” I said firmly to my reflection. 

A little pep talk couldn’t hurt, right?

Staring at myself, I watched as a sly smile pulled at the corner of my lips. Despite everything else going on in my brain, I still planned on wowing Matthew. I mean, come on, I had to win him over somehow.

In my complete bareness, I strode into my room and began piecing together an outfit that would demand my southern boy’s attention. I tore into my closet, tossing every top I owned onto my bed. Once my shirts and sweaters were tossed about, I pulled open my dresser and thumbed through my limited collection of jeans. 

All too quickly, a realization slipped into my brain. Nothing in my wardrobe had nearly enough oomph for what I planned. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I tossed my jeans into the pile on my bed and chewed on the inside of my lip. 

A faint idea began to bud inside my mind when I noticed a pair of my old, yet still favorite jeans, next to one of my newer v-neck sweat, striped sweatshirts. The jeans were once a darker blue, but time wore them down into a shade much lighter. Time also ate through the knees and began wearing away at the thigh of the left leg. 

Grinning from ear to ear, I basically skipped into the kitchen to retrieve a pair of scissors. I began to hack at the fabric, deepening the tears in the knees and cutting out a large portion of the material in the left thigh. Stepping into a pair of boxer briefs, I pulled on my jeans to admire my work. 

I needed to fray the fabric where the fresh cuts met the old ones; however, I absolutely adored the way they showed just enough skin. Sitting on my bed, I used the side of the blade to fray the fabric, making it match the old tears almost perfectly. Once satisfied, I picked up my striped sweater and held it above the jeans in order to double check that the black and white striped matched the jeans.

Luckily, the jeans were both light enough and dark enough to match the sweater perfectly. 

Scissors in hand, I hesitated just before I tore into the sweater. With a deep breath, I deepened the neckline, extending it to the middle of my chest and widening it to what I though the right width would be. I also removed the collar in order to show off more of my neck.