{ boy x boy romance }
❝ 𝑇𝐸𝑀𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸𝑆 drop. It's inevitable, winter always rounds the year off with a little shiver. But ℎ𝑒... his skin seems to always stand below zero.
༅༄°˖⠀
...
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THE NEXT TWO WEEKS are a gloomy blur of events happening. I don't see Mum nor Vivian for most of the time, the only thing that tells me either of them is home is the plate of pancakes sitting ready to be eaten on the counter or hair elastics moving from one place to another.
But I rarely get to see them physically, and when I do, I start wishing that I hadn't because my mood falls into the shadows that hang all over Vivian's face or my lungs get entangled in Mum's wiry hair and I can feel a knot being pulled tight around them throughout the entire day.
I'm at the harbour with Adrian most of the time, and when I'm not then I'm driving around town with Phillip or Lee. I don't see Dona either. It's like all the females of Seward had joined a pact against me and let me know I did something wrong only by avoidance and scornful glances.
Then, on a Friday afternoon I catch Adrian coming towards me on the wooden dock. When I ask him if we can hang around on his boat to drive out onto the sea he says No. When I ask him why he says he's never seen my house and he'd like to. So I take him there.
When he steps foot into the house it's like I'm hoping for him to break the dense layer of bricks that had been piled up by Mum and Vivian, but not even his joyful smile can do much about it. We're all doomed. But I guess at least I'm not alone in this mess anymore, he's in it too now!
"That's a nice living room, nice furniture and colour schemes and all." He says, nodding approvingly, while beholding the living room that didn't look much different than all the other living rooms in other peoples houses.
Just the standard arrangements, really; a long couch and a TV with a coffee table sandwiched between them on timber wood flooring.
Then farther away a corner library with a settee and a big white pouf beside it for people who couldn't keep their feet on the ground. In other words—me. Vivian not so much, but she did like to sit on the pouf and pretend it were a fuzzy haired creature.
"You sound like you haven't been in a house for a very long time." I say, frowning at him from the side.
"You're right, I haven't." He turns his face to me and gives me a sad smile which I feel the need to snuff out like a small flame that was beginning to grow into a big one. Sadness doesn't fit on his face, even feigned ones. "So, your room then?"
"Yes, my room then." I make a move to leave, but then I falter and do something that wasn't advisable if you wanted to keep the impression that you're a sane person; I bring my pinky finger to his cheek and turn it like a key in his skin which is soft at first but then becomes firm as his mouth opens and he begins to smile right against my finger.
