Drunk Without Cause

Eleven.

Kiwi wore an adorable peach sweatshirt that said always kind with the small embroider of a cactus below the tiny text. Ilya was digging it. "I thought about what you said."

A small crease appeared between Ilya's brows as he tried to figure out what Kiwi was even talking about. Had he said something so important that it needed to be thought over? He never really thought that he had that effect on him. A guilty part of Ilya kind of liked the fact that he did have that effect. Not because he wanted everyone to think about him, but because he wanted Kiwi to. However, he did his best to shove those thoughts away. He was being unfair. Ilya was not supposed to get too close in that way. It wouldn't end well, he knew that.

"The thing about getting scared and allowing the fear to bloom." Kiwi said with his hands gripping the edges of his books a bit tighter. The darker color of his skin turned pale from the pressure of his grip. Though his mother had been black, his father was as pale as a ghost, causing Kiwi to be an odd mixture between the two. "You said that it's more brave to allow fear rather than to deflect it."

"Did I?" Ilya mused, impressed with his past self. He did know that he said that, but he liked to pretend as thought there was still an air of mystery to himself. It made for a more enticing meal to those around. "I'm pretty damn clever, aren't I?"

With a roll of his eyes that was clearly for show and not because he was actually annoyed, Kiwi loosened his grip a bit. Ilya felt the soft waves of relief gathering at his feet. Though he hadn't been friends with Kiwi for as long as Emi had, he knew about the things that drove him insane. He didn't want to agitate him. He didn't deserve that. "You are. I'm glad you said that."

"Is this about that goodnight kiss?" Ilya teased, lightly tapping Kiwi on the shoulder with his elbow. Serious situations made him nervous, especially when they involved the wonderfully sweet boy walking beside him. They were always bickering—always exchanging joking words and playful thoughts. Whenever they got serious, it felt that the entire world became saturated. Because Kiwi was the brilliance to the world's colors. If he was upset, then the vibrance went along with his happiness.

"Oh, hush up." Kiwi took the bait, laughing lightly in that wonderfully unique way. Even before they really knew each other, Ilya always enjoyed the way that he laughed. It was always so warm. "We didn't even kiss."

"Mmm." Ilya hummed as though in deep thought. "I'm pretty sure that we exchanged the most heartfelt goodnight kiss known to man. You swooned in my arms as I professed my love, the moon started to sing gentle serenades, and a nearby fire hydrant squealed."

"Please don't indulge me in your wet dreams." He retorted in the same practiced manner that they exchanged everyday. Sometimes Ilya wondered if it was annoying—always acting this precise same way. No matter what, he had a way of turning things into something romantic or sexual. Did that ever get old? He suspected so. But that was who he was, and he liked talking that way.

Did everyone else like listening to it though? Did kiwi?

"I regret to inform you, Kiwi, but I indulge everyone in my wet dreams. No one is safe." He said with a sideways smirk on his face. Then they stopped in the hall, his eyes turning to see that Venice was now stood behind them both, waiting for Ilya and Kiwi to finally part ways so that they might get to their next class.

"Safety is a lie anyway. We live life on the edge!" Kiwi laughed, pretending to be all tough. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't look intimidating. Well, not on the surface...