Noah Mitchell and The Theory of Alternate Universes √ (BoyxBoy)

24

//TW

Mentions of depression, self-harm and suicide. 

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Somber. 

That is how I would describe this morning. It was somber.

Despite the sunlight peeking through the closed curtains, onto my naked back.

Despite the warmth that was given to me by the boy snuggled up to my side. 

It was somber.

We're both awake, but neither moves or breaks the silence.

Just laying there, afraid that a single shift in our bodies would make the time move faster. Afraid that it will all be over in a couple of hours. 

So we laid there, my head on top of his chest, my hand draped on his stomach. His arm wrapped around me, and the pink comforter shielding us from the cold atmosphere. 

I was never like this, never felt guilty leaving someone after a one night stand. But something is different with him. Something I still can't quite figure out.

And maybe that was it, maybe I was so hung up on him because he's a mystery, an enigma that I struggle to understand and that's why I had the urge to pry, investigate, and understand. 

That is why I need to know, know, know more about him. Because at the end of the day, I still don't know jack shit about him.

Don't we love a little mystery in our lives?

He started to move, shifting slightly. My eyes immediately darting up towards him. 

Just like the atmosphere around us, he had a cold, somber face on. 

"You sleep okay?" he asked me, murmuring in my hair. I nodded my head. 

"good." he slurred, rubbing my arm.

He shifted, trying to sit up. But I gripped his stomach tighter, not letting him get up.

I don't want to leave. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

He chuckled against my arms, trying to get it off of him. 

"I need to brush my teeth, morning breath isn't exactly sexy." 

"No.... stay." I mumbled, my grip only got tighter. "just for a few minutes." 

He sighed and went limp in my hand. I smiled.

He played with the tangled mess of my hair, as we lay there in silence again. 

I closed my eyes trying to memorize the feeling, trying so hard to savor it.

"Does it hurt when you move?" he asked suddenly. 

I hummed softly, then wiggled the lower half of my body without moving my head that was still resting on his chest. 

He laughed, his chest heaving up and down bringing my head with it.

"Yeah... it does. a little bit." I answered, settling into a more comfortable position. 

My head now resting on his shoulders, His soft curls tickling my forehead. My lips centimetres away from his neck.  

I kissed it, he shudders. 

"Yeah, it may feel uncomfortable for 3-4 days." I grimace at that, not really looking forward for the awaiting discomfort.

"But that's good." he whispered in my ear. His voice deep and silky.