The Holt Conundrum

second december

He's used to my antics now so he just rolls his eyes at me. But I think he's slightly amused, so points for Eliah. "No. Tell scary stories."

"I don't know, playing soggy bread is totally a scary story," I add.

He snorts. "For me. For you I guess that's a Monday night."

I click my tongue against my cheek. "Oh, I only have my orgies on Thursdays, actually."

Holt chuckles this time. "Dully noted."

"So, come on, tell a scary story," I remind him. Anything to have all of his attention all to myself.

So he starts telling a story about a kid lost in the woods and he keeps backtracking and changing information because he remembers parts he had skipped and at the end I'm just laughing hysterically instead of being scared and Holt is pouting a little, but he's laughing also, and by god, it shouldn't be legal to be this adorable if there's no chance of rubbing anything of ours together.

There's just something so crazy intoxicating with just sitting on the couch and talking and laughing, only being lighted by candles.

In any other situations this would be a nice date.

Sometimes I'm really disappointed that I've realized that my teenaged dreams of turning the whole world gay can't logistically come to fruition.

At this point, it's late and both of us are yawning so we go to our rooms, turning off all the switch to the lights so that if the power comes back on we won't have a heart attack, and I leave the door to my room open. We didn't leave any candles lighted and now it's crazy dark and it's gotten cold and I'm in sweatpants and a big hoodie and I'm buried under a bunch of blankets and still cold and I hate this and... "HOLT! Are you asleep?" I yell from my room.

"What?"

"Are you asleep? I have a—"

Holt cuts me off, "stop shouting." And then I can hear him getting out of his room and walking to mine, the sound of his naked feet slapping against the wooden floor.

"I have a proposition," I say, when I can feel him close to the door.

He doesn't even stop one second to listen to what I have to say. He just says, "move over you dramatic queen."

I laugh. "Hey, I didn't even tell you what the proposition was."

I'm sure he's rolling his eyes right now. "I can guess. I know how your head works," he tells me and lifts all of my blankets and covers and slips into bed beside me.

I'm trying not to freak the fuuuuuck out. I mean, yeah, this was what I wanted, but I hadn't expected to actually get it. I don't often get what I want, at least not what I really want. I'm suddenly worried that maybe this was a bad idea and that my asleep body will wrap around Holt during the night like an python. "I won't play find the eel, don't worry," I blurt out.

Holt laughs, pressing his hand to his face. "Find the eel? What is wrong with you?"

I'm grinning, trying to keep my cool. "So many things. Anyway. I won't ask to rub our naked bodies together for warmth either." Though good god, that would be amazing. I shouldn't think about it too much actually, I shouldn't get hard with Holt right beside me.

"I appreciate it," he answers, probably rolling his eyes yet again.

"You should be disappointed, frankly. I have a killer bod."

He snorts. "But of course."

We're silent for a few seconds, and I'm trying not to freak out again and reach for him under the blankets.

"Your bed is seriously comfortable," Holt suddenly says, making me jump a little.

"Thanks. It's because I'm like the princess in The Princess and the Pea."

"The what?" Holt asks with a laugh.

"You know, the sensitive bitch that could feel a pea under like twenty mattresses and that proved that her ass was royal, because only a true queen could be that extra."

He's still chuckling. "Never heard that story."

"You've never hear that story? You tell crappy horror stories but you don't know basic fairytales?"

"We're only boys in my family," he explains.

"It's no reason to have an uncolorful childhood."

"Well, go on then. Tell your princess story."

And so I tell him. I tell him one fairytale after another often putting my own personal twist to it. Usually Holt can spot it, and he says, "really? It happened that way."

I don't know when exactly I fall asleep. I just know that one second I'm mumbling a word and the next I'm waking up with Holt still sleeping beside me, his arms tightly wrapped around one of my pillows. The power came back during the night. My alarm clock is flashing. I don't wake Holt up to tell him though.

I stare at his face memorizing every single line until he wakes up.

I kind of wish we'd lose the power again.