The last strands (#Tronnor)

Chapter 8: The crush

-“So… where do you want to go?”—Troye asked, walking ahead of Connor at the sidewalk.

-“I… I honestly don’t have a clue. Anywhere but here is fine.”—the other answered, with a slight sigh that signaled a mixture of boredom and tiredness.

-“Hey, it’s fine. We don’t really have to do anything.”—Troye looked back and smiled—“We can just hang out, like always.”

-“I guess it’s true… though the lights are inviting.”

The night lights were more than just inviting. They were beckoning the pair to walk in further, get themselves lost amongst buildings. Who knows? Perhaps watch a movie, perhaps not and instead head over to some sort of club. Well, given last time that didn’t really work out, Connor preferred just to hang around in ease. Only his mind wasn’t at ease.

Back in the day, in Minnesota, Connor had many reasons to be nervous whenever he went out with someone in a scenario that could be considered “a date”. What if he seemed too nervous? What if he didn’t talk enough? What if he talked too much? What if she thought he was weird? What if she noticed… he wasn’t that into “her”? He had given up on dating a long time now. He didn’t want to do anything with relationships, sex, kissing, with neither girls nor boys. He didn’t feel ready. He didn’t want to have to deal with his true colors, at least not yet. He felt far from ready. Far from prepared.

But Troye made Connor so confused all the time, and his judgment was clouded constantly when the other was at his side. They would have a snack at a café, and Connor would tell to himself that it felt like that one time he took a girl out for brunch. They would go to a grocery store to prepare for some party later that night and Connor thought about that time he went with that other girl to rent a movie to watch back at home. They would do anything together, and Connor kept thinking back on situations that he remembered were different. He thought of the idea of interest, more than just platonic. And he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Currently, the two were walking through the empty street, with no more company than the street lights and the cold wind. Far back was the house were the after party was still being held at, but neither could care any less. It had been far enough for a night.

-“Tell you what.”—Connor said, earning Troye’s attention—“The other day Hannah and I went to a photography gallery around the boulevard. How about we go there? I bet you’ll like it.”

Troye looked dubitative.

-“I don’t know Con; I know you love graphic arts, but I don’t know shit about them…”

-“Beh, I don’t know shit either!”—Connor beamed—“We can be ignorant together! Come on, it’s this way!”

And so Connor started sprinting in a random direction, pulling Troye from his arm.

-“HEY! WHAT!? OH NO WE’RE NOT DOING THIS AGAIN! LIKE HELL I’M RUNNING!”

But they were running. Troye still couldn’t keep up with Connor despite everything. He wasn’t necessarily the most built person around, yes, but when it came to physical activity he felt pathetic; especially against Connor, who seemed to enjoy it tremendously. It was one thing that set them apart, even though Troye couldn’t help but look up to Connor because of that… and secretly enjoying watching him run.

In no time they found themselves panting at the entrance of the gallery. Connor seemed overall fine, except a little sweaty. Troye on the other hand was on his knees trying to catch up his breath, with his gaze on the ground.

-“I… HATE… YOU SO… SO… MUCH…”—Troye said, scolding Connor with his finger and barely speaking.

-“HAHAHA…! Yeah, RIGHT!”—Connor said, lifting up his friend with both hands and tapping his face playfully—“You love me, Troye boy.”