The Writer | #4✓

Chapter 15

I drew in a deep breath, looking down at the welcome mat in front of Maxwell's room before looking up at the door again. I have been at the door for about five minutes, not sure what to do. I wanted to knock so that he would let me in, and I wasn't so sure why I was anxious. He had texted me back thirty or so minutes ago and asked if I could come upstairs to talk to him.

The sound of Maxwell's floormates in the lounge sipped into the hallway I was standing in. I took in deep breaths, and with one last sigh, I raised my hand in a balled fist and knocked on the wooden door. It was silent on the other end for a while, and just before I made to knock again I heard shuffling from the other end.

"Xander?" I heard Maxwell ask. His voice was followed by footsteps and soon the lock on the door clicked open. I was soon face to face with him. He just stared at me, and I stared back, not knowing what to do. His brown eyes looked a little dull, and his freckled face looked pale. He looked nervous.

"Hey," I eventually said, breaking the silence in the hallway. I gave Maxwell a small smile that he mirrored before letting out a sigh and looking down at his bare feet. We just stood there for a while, not saying anything to each other until Maxwell rose his head.

"Sorry," he muttered before running his fingers through his hair. "You can come in," he added, standing aside so that I could walk into his room. I headed for his bed that was covered with a green bedsheet. I took a sit at its side as I had done in the past, placing my hands on my knees as I watched Maxwell walk into the room as well before shutting the door behind him.

"So," he started, making towards his study desk before pulling out the chair by it. "About yesterday."

I just watched as Maxwell sat down, and he was soon looking right at me. I could tell he was nervous from the way he was biting his bottom lip and fidgeting with his fingers. Cocking my head to the side, I smiled a little, trying to give him none vocal encouragement to keep speaking.

"So, I wanted to explain things to you, but I'm not sure where to start since my thoughts are about the place," he started, sighing again as he adjusted his sitting position on his seat. "Is there anything specific you would like to ask? That'll help," he said, making me look down at my hands.

Did I have any specific questions? Of course.

"Okay," I started, looking back up at him. "Why? Why do you like what you do? And why me?" I asked, watching as Maxwell looked away. He hummed, and the sound of his voice dotted the otherwise silent room.

"We were in the same high school Xander," he said, looking back up at me.

"Well, yes," I responded as a frown made its way to my face. Sure, we both knew that. Why was he mentioning that?

"Did you ever notice how it was always my dad that came around, just him?" Maxwell asked, and I froze a bit, before nodding. He looked back down at his fingers, sighing a bit before he continued talking. "I don't have a mum. Well, I don't know who she is. It has just been me and my dad, and maybe the homeschool teacher. We were alone. No maids, no aunts, no nothing. Just me and him in that disgustingly big house." Maxwell's tone had started to turn sore, and a small frown had formed on his face. His featured relaxed suddenly like he'd noticed his breakdown.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay," I said before the room fell into silence. It took a while, but Maxwell eventually started to talk again.

"Like, a lot of people would think that doesn't matter at all. You're rich, you have everything to keep you occupied," he said, covering his eyes with his palm for a bit before removing it. "But being alone for so long - that kind of isolation sucks."

"So, I started reading," Maxwell said, and I was sure I knew where he was going from there. "But reading became boring. It was just word after word after word, then I started reading differently," he said before looking over at me. "And I'm sure you know what I mean by that."

"Things weren't so dull anymore. My mind wasn't the blank void of nothing like that it used to be," he said, smiling a bit. "After living in that house with my father who didn't say much I eventually stopped being homeschooled and got the opportunity to go to public school."

Maxwell paused after that, allowing silence to take over. I was trying to take in what he'd said, letting myself think about it as I tried to put myself in his shoes.

"You were rather lively in high school. Pretty popular too," I said, breaking the silence. Maxwell looked at me, smiling a bit before letting out a little chuckle.

"Yeah, I was," he said, before his smile limited. "But when I started you know, trying to 'be close' with people in that way—"

"I get what you're saying," I said, making him laugh. He was talking about sex. He didn't have to elaborate.

"So, I," Maxwell sighed, shaking his head. "I, you know, found out that what I wanted, and the kind of things I liked weren't exactly normal."

The room went silent again, and I sat on his bed, staring down at the floor. "So, why me?" I eventually asked, looking up to find him staring at me. He smiled a bit before shrugging.

"I always thought you were cute," he said, making my face go red and he started chuckling. "I mean, seriously. You were always hiding about the place. I thought it was cute."

"I..." I trialed, not knowing what to say after that so I just closed my mouth.

"I tried to talk to you, but you ran away," he laughed, shaking his head a bit.

"Did you know I had — that I still have a crush?" I asked, watching as Maxwell bit his bottom lip before nodding. I watched as he cupped his freckled cheeks, smiling at me before he made to get up from the seat at his study desk. He then walked over to me, sitting beside me on the bed, and making the mattress sink in a little bit.

"Yeah," he then muttered after a while, making my face grow warm with his confirmation.

"But I mean, it wasn't just you. A lot of people liked me..." he trailed, making me turn to look at him. He was close, and our legs were touching through our jeans. "I thought you were cool though, being a writer and all, and maybe I had a little crush on you too," he laughed as I turned away from him.

"When I realized we were in the same university, and when I read your journal. I..." he trailed, running a hand through his hair. "I thought we were the perfect match. That you wouldn't be creeped out or even disgusted by me, so—"

"It's okay," I said, cutting Maxwell short. He seemed to be having trouble making sense of things after that. He smiled, turning away from me and we just sat on his bed in silence.

"I really like you," he said, making me look over at him. "I know we've only started hanging out recently, and I may be pushing things, but I want to get to know you better — date you. I haven't done this before so I'm probably making a mess of things," he said, making my face warm up. I looked up, turning over to him and observing his brown eyes, bow lips, wavy red hair, and freckles under the dim light. At first, I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me, but when I realized that it wasn't the case a big smile broke across my lips.

"So..." he trailed, nudging my leg with his. "Will you...?"

"Are you asking me to date you?" I said, asking Maxwell's question for him. I watched as his face grew red, but he nodded.

"Then yes," I muttered, watching as his eyes widened. "Yeah, I'll date you."

It didn't take long for him to lean forward and press a kiss to my cheek. His hand went to cradle my head, pulling me closer until I was almost sitting on him. The kiss was different from the others. It was soft and gentle. I felt like I was melting into him and burning under the touch of his fingers when he moved to touch me.