Take my heart

Chapter XXVII

I would kiss you again if you asked

His pen makes a noise as it crashes on the ground. A few people look at him, but Connor pays no mind as he scrambles to pick it up, heart stuck in his throat. His phone burns in his hand, for three whole seconds he can't muster the courage to look at the screen again. Blood rushes in his ears, and he's half certain he's going insane.

But no, maybe not, because he hadn't imagined it. Connor finally gathers the nerve to glance at the screen and finds the text right where he last saw it, at the bottom of his conversation with Caesar. It's one minute old.

Caesar

I would kiss you again if you asked

He swallows, grits his teeth, locks the phone and forces himself to look forward. The chemistry teacher is going on about something he was paying attention to until a few seconds ago. This is why he shouldn't check his phone in class, goddammit. His knee bobs up and down at a faster rate than his heartbeat.

What the fuck does that mean?

No, well, okay, stupid question, but what... what is Caesar even thinking? And all of a sudden, too, like he's intent on killing him. Perhaps.

Connor nervously bites his fingernails, a nasty habit Adryan had forced him out of a few years ago, but it comes back every once in while.

For three days they've been pretending nothing happened. Which, okay, Connor can do that. He can sit next to Caesar during lunch and act oblivious when their legs brush together. He can let Caesar casually touch him all the fucking time and pretend he's not burning. He can keep stealing Caesar's clothes and ignore the happy flutter in his stomach at the familiar smell.

He can look at him and stop his bones from going liquid with want. If barely.

If you asked, but Connor probably, definitely shouldn't ask, even if part of him is already thinking about it. Last time was a mistake, a slip-up he's incredibly lucky Caesar hasn't asked him about, and that's exactly why it shouldn't happen again. Where do they think they might get with this? In what world is it sensible to fuck their friendship up this way? Unless it doesn't fuck everything up, but really, what are the statistics on childhood best friends that make out and then go back to being friends like it's nothing...

He unlocks the phone under his desk, checks the time (ten minutes before the class ends) and types with clammy fingers.

Connor

Where are you?

So, news to absolutely no one, Connor is a complete and utter fool.

Lounge.

Despite ten minutes feeling like an hour, they pass by eventually; the bell rings, Connor almost drops half his things on the floor and trips with two desks and one classmate in his hurry, but he still manages to be the first out of the room. The resolve to walk at a normal pace lasts all of three steps before he's speeding up, a brisk walk turns into a race through the emptying hallways and he can't believe someone can make him this ridiculous.

It's another hour before it starts getting dark, but the lights outside the school are already on, pouring inside through the windows Connor runs by without a second glance. He comes to a skidding halt at the entrance of the lounge—another thing, like the Christmas parties, they inherited from Adryan's sister—and takes a shuddering breath.

The room seems to be empty at first glance. Connor walks in with unsteady steps, looking around swiftly. Folded on the back of the sofa is Caesar's leather jacket, meaning he must be near. His stomach twists and he stops behind the sofa, absently grazing his fingertips on the jacket.