Closer

>2< you're my person

Later on in the day, the boys were still downstairs watching tv and having strange discussions. Since my parents had returned, I opted to relocate myself. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence in the Clifford household.

Day after day we'd sit in the lounge, my parents would come home and hug my brother, greet the boys when they were over, and send a fake smile my way if I were there. Everyone was aware of the situation, but there was nothing the boys could do to change it. Michael had tried countless times to make them see the error of their ways, but they insisted he was only imagining things.

I sat on my bed which was covered in blue, white, and black pillows and sheets. I drew across the blank page in my sketchbook, filling the page with whatever shapes and segments came to my mind at the time. I enjoyed the time alone. It wasn't really forced upon me, it was just something I did on days where I didn't feel like dealing with being openly excluded.

The melodies of Sam Smith's 'how will I know' filled my room softly through the blue speaker as I heard a knock on my door. "Zo?" I heard the muffled voice of a certain blond haired, blue eyed boy through the door. "Come in!" I grinned softly even though he couldn't see it yet.
Soon enough, the lanky boy was laying next to me in my bed and judging my work. "Explain." He pointed to one part of the drawing, glancing between my work and I. "I dunno, my mind felt scattered while I was drawing it, so I guess I drew something scattered?" I shrugged, suddenly self conscious of the sketch.

Luke had a certain way about him. He made me feel comfortable, but on edge. I was always tense around him, but noticeably less vibrant when he wasn't there. I craved his attention but was also afraid of receiving it. I loved him, I just wasn't sure in what kind of way.

"Whatever it's supposed to be," He started, snapping me out of my inner monologue, "I like it." He smiled that genuine smile of his. It was subtle, and perfect, and real, just like he was. I gave him a small smile and asked "Why does it have to be something? Why can't it just.. be?". "...I guess you're right Zo. We should just let it be. It's beautiful in its own way." He booped my nose, "just like you.".

We spent the remainder of the day snuggled together, him asking countless questions that didn't really seem to hold a meaning, and me answering those questions as if they had all the meaning in the world. We only deviated from our routine when I decided to ask him the one thing that I'd always wondered.

"Hey Lukey?" I looked up at the pale boy, playing with his hair absentmindedly. "What's up Zo?". I thought for a second, "Why are you so nice to me? I mean I know some of it is sympathy for my situation, but that can't be all? It's one thing to be nice but you.. it just seems like the attention you give me is for more than just sympathy. It seems genuine. It's not shallow, it means something.. I think." I fumbled with my words, blushing slightly.

He thought about his answer before responding simply with, "because you're my person. I just feel like I can say what's on my mind with you. Not that I can't with the boys, because I can, and I do. But you, you're comforting to me. Dunno.." he shrugged, burying his face in my neck, both of us once again focused on the sketchbook.