t h i r t y - f i v e

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Don't stop doing your best just because someone doesn't give you credit for it.

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T-that didn't really h-happen ... did it?

It couldn't!

There ... there's n-no way.

Sage was in distraught as he sat in class, trying his hardest to focus in the trigonometry lesson his teacher, Mr. Holt dished out, but no matter what he did, his mind would gradually drift back to that which he would rather not think about.

The occurrence of last week Saturday, three days ago-

Vigorously shaking his head, Sage suppressed a groan of embarrassment as he sunk in his uncomfortable iron chair. A wild blush began traversing a path across his cheeks once his mind strayed once again, back to his minute moment of weakness.

It felt like sugar; like frosting off a donut; like what a beautiful snowflake looks like, like crystalline lace made in the heavens. Like velvet. Like the color pink.

Never in Sage's wildest dreams had he ever felt that he would kiss Xander one day in real life, and even though it happened, a part of him kept denying, while the other was still in a seduced daze.

W-why can't I stop thinking about it?

Every time he closed his eyes, he would be adorned by the sight of Xander's face moving closer to his, followed by faint tingling resurface that itself in Sage's lips at the insanely good feeling of having the lips of the boy he loved slotted with his.

The memory kept rewinding on a broken loop, never letting him forget the memory that could possibly alter his life forever. His first kiss with a boy. The boy who he fell for at first sight, the boy who once loathed him. Xander Love.

Sage freaked out about it again.

A-and it was t-twice t-too...

W-w-who does ... that to someone two times?

Sage's cheeks flared even further when he brushed his fingers over his lower lip.

Soft lips...

I-I had a feeling that they would be!


W-what are you s-saying?!

It's g-gross!

Stop thinking about him!

Stop it.

Stop it.


Repeatedly mulling over the ... ordeal not only succeeded in making him get butterflies and blush like maiden girl, but also resulted in him becoming susceptible to a flurry of questions. Questions whose answers were nowhere to be found.

Questions like 'did it feel good to Xander', 'were my lips chapped?', 'was it awkward to Xander?'

But on top of them all, was the mind bugging question as to why Xander kissed him in the first place.

They weren't dating, they were barely even friends, and Xander was straight.

Did all straight boys kiss other boys? Did new-found friends kiss each other? On the lips?

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