Blue Eyes (bxb)

Twenty Two

The sunset cascaded through the crack in curtains of my bedroom. Finley sat on the edge on my bed, whilst I lazily stretched out across it, my ankles falling on his lap. Music hummed out the speakers and I found myself singing along quietly to the sweet harmonies of XXXTentacion's most recent songs. "I still don't understand why you like this shit," Finn laughed.

"What do you mean? X is amazing!" I argued.

"Not really, he's just bloody depressing."

"Fuck off," I huffed.

"Hey! I'm just stating my opinion!" He shrugged.

"What kind of stuff do you like then?"

"Loads. Just nout crap like you," he retaliated.

He really struck a nerve insulting my music taste. Lucky for him, I had some sort of soft-spot for him. If it had been anyone else, their head would've been nailed to my wall. "My music taste is fucking great! Come on, what's your favourite song?"

Puffing a waft of hot air, he uttered, "Is There Somewhere by Halsey."

"Really? Never heard it."

"Of course you haven't, you listen to shit like XXXTentacion."

"Fight me," I barked, playfully. I sat up so my face was several inches away from his.

"Gladly," he whispered, then bit into my bottom lip hard, but not enough to make it bleed.

"Ow! You little fucker!" I squealed, backing off by a fair amount.

"You wanted a fight, didn't you?" He cackled.

"Yeah, but I wasn't being serious!"

"Aw, sorry, hun," he chuckled.

"Whatever, shithead," I pouted.

His laughter died down a bit, and he began to fiddle with the hem of his white t-shirt. I watched him curiously, how he nibbled at his bottom lip when he felt awkward and how he could never sit still. His skin looked absolutely flawless in the dimming light, almost as if he were glowing. The sunglasses that usual sat loosely on the bridge of his nose were discarded on the bedsheets by my hip. He looked beautiful. I started talking before I could hold my tongue anymore.

"You're really pretty, Renolds." I mentally slapped myself. What an idiot! He was definitely judging me right now.

"Thanks, Peters. I'm sure you are, too." Well, I guess not. I smiled, even though I knew he couldn't see it. Still, it felt natural. I always found myself smiling when I was around Finley, no matter how much he pissed me off at times. He was one of the very few people who had that effect on me.

Just then, Bobby came running into the room. "Zakky! Huggy!" He demanded.

"Ugh, come here then," I sighed, through grinning lips. He plodded over to my bed, climbing onto it, and then wrapped his arms around ny neck.

"What's this for, huh?"

"I haven't seen you aw day! You didn't even play wiff me this morning!" The four-year-old gasped. "Who's he?" Bobby pointed at Finn, who was smiling to himself.

"That is Finley. Say hi."

"Hi, Finwey. Are you Zakky's best fwiend?"

"No, not quite. What's your name?" He asked curiously.

"My real name is Robert but I don't really like that name and everyone calls me Bobby anyway."

"So Bobby then?" Finn chuckled.