My Beautiful Boy ✔️

17

It was almost the end of the college day. I yawned as I left the classroom, in the middle of tying my hair up. Because the sun suddenly decided to surprise us, having my thick hair open was too much for me. Just as I was about to turn the corner of the almost empty hallway, my eyes caught a glimpse of very familiar blonde hair.

Dawson hasn't showed up to college in two weeks and with each passing day, I've become increasingly worried for him. I vowed to stay away from him so that he could deal with his shit, but that doesn't stop me from being concerned. I had to stop myself from calling him a few times by sitting on my hands and singing. It was the only thing that distracted me.

Now, he's back and I'm not going to pass up the opportunity to speak to him and make sure he's alright. Just make sure he's alright. Nothing else.

Quickly, I chased after him, making sure to not let him out of my sight. He turned a corner and I noticed that he was making his way to the changing rooms. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I slowly tiptoed behind him. Because it would look weird to the few people roaming the halls if I waltzed into the boy's changing room, I waited behind the corner for Dawson to leave. A part of me wanted to make sure he was okay and the other part of me was curious as to why he was in the changing rooms.

After a few minutes, I'm holding my breath as Dawson walks back out, wearing shorts and a towel over his shoulders. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I watch as he continues to walk towards the natatorium. I'm even more confused now.

Just as Dawson enters, I'm following behind him and I'm pushing open the doors just as he jumps into the pool. The towel is on the floor and I see Dawson swimming down the length. I kneel down near the edge, interlocking my fingers together.

Dawson pushes against the opposite wall and he swims back, his head bowed. By the time he notices me, I tilt my head to the side. Dawson is now standing in the pool, right in front of me. Hesitantly, I reach out and wipe his hair away from his forehead.

Dawson's hand landed on the edge of the pool, right next to my feet. He stares up at me and I send him a small smile, the dampness of his hair soaking my fingers. "Hi." He says, and I smile at him, my fingers slowly running through the rest of his hair.

"Hi." I answer, and Dawson presses his lips together, moving to the side before pulling himself out of the water. My eyes flicker to where water droplets drip down the ridges of his body and land on the waistband of his shorts. I gulp at the sight.

I should probably stop staring, I tell myself, I'm blinking a few times and I'm looking away. Dawson slumps next to me, sighing as he dips his feet into the water. I clear my throat before rolling up the bottom of my jeans and, too, dipping my feet into the water.

We sit in silence for a while before I see Dawson rub his hands together. "I'm sorry." He says, and I can feel his gaze on the side of my head. I don't look at him, mostly because I'm not sure I can. "For saying all that to you. It was... wrong. I didn't mean any of it." He says quietly, and I nod my head.

Slowly, I look over to him, sending him a tight-lipped smile. "I understand where you were coming from." I told him, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You wanted me to stay away, and I wasn't budging." I shrugged my shoulders.

"No, it's not... it's not like that." He shakes his head. His hand is beside him, right next to mine and my finger twitches, yearning to reach out and touch him. "You're not suffocating, Alayna. Quite the opposite, actually." He says, quietly, and there's a small smile on my face.

"What do you mean?" I ask, and his eyes are flickering all over my face. Then, I feel his pinky finger hook onto mine, and my breath hitches.

A part of me wants to lean forward and kiss him, and another part of me wants to get up and run from the danger. "I can't breathe around you, because..." Dawson shakes his head. "Because I forget how to. My heart jumps a little whenever I see you, and my skin feels tingly." He states quietly, like he didn't just make my heart skip a whole beat.

"Dawson..." I try to speak, but when he carefully lifts his hand and moves a fallen strand of my hair behind my ear, my breath is caught in my throat and my mouth parts slightly. Then, his thumb slowly streaks down my cheek and my breath is shaky as I exhale. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and I highly doubt that they're going to leave. My skin tingles and sizzles wherever he touches me.

"I'm trying to protect you, Alayna." He mumbles, his gaze fixated on my lips. "For your own good."

"I don't need protection." I whisper, and just as I tilt my chin up, we're jumping away from each other at the sound of the door being pulled open from behind us.

"Why are you in here?" One of the sports teachers walks in, his hands on his hips and a raise in his eyebrow. "What's going on?" He asked, and I quickly jumped to my feet, slipping on my shoes.

"We have permission, sir." Dawson easily lies, wiping his hair with the towel.

"Really? From who?" The teacher asked.

"Mr. Nelson." He stated, and the teacher tilted his head to the side.

"Wait here. I'll go and ask him." The teacher says, walking back out. As soon as the door closes behind us, Dawson's hand is on my back and his mouth is near my ear.

"Run." He whispers, and we're holding hands as we sprint out of the natatorium. We're turning the corner and Dawson is leading me into the changing rooms. "We need to hide." He says, and then he's pulling me into one of the shower cubicles, pulling the curtain to cover us. Unfortunately, the shower space is just about enough for one person, so we're pressed against each other. I freeze when I hear the door of the changing room open, footsteps coming towards us. Dawson's hand is on the bottom of my back and I have no choice but to rest my hands on his damp stomach. I can feel how quick he's breathing and the ridges of his lean abs. My eyes flicker up to look at him and his mouth is slightly parted and his eyes are staring lazily down at me.

Dawson steps back, his head hitting the button of the shower and a spray of water crashes down on us. A shallow scream leaves my throat as we thrash against each other to get out of the shower. The curtain is pulled back and the sports teacher is glaring at us, his cheeks red and his eyes blaring.

Well, shit.