It Doesn't Make You A Narcissist To Love Yourself

265 34 66

TW for mentions of drug use, gay slurs and mentions of internalized homophobia.

He was passing through the crowd with little success. The place was packed and rightfully so. It appeared to be the party of the century but little did he know it was a standard night on campus. Awsten speculated that if he was one for parties, he probably would've liked this one even if he didn't fit in with the majority of the people there. Even if his hair wasn't a light shade of purple, he would've still stood out of the crowd.

It felt like every man he past towered over him, all of them being well over six feet tall. He never viewed himself as short, standing at around five foot nine, although tonight was slowly changing his mind. It didn't help that on top of that, they all had tanned skin that reminded him of a certain brown haired boy who was out with what he could only imagine as a demon. He brushed the thought from his mind, forcing a breath out from his lips.

The sorority socialite he had come with was nowhere to be found, which was understandable given the size of the place. Awsten found himself at the bottom of a spiral staircase and began to make his way up the practically deserted set of stairs. He felt like he could breathe more freely now, his heart slowing down the beating in his chest. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going but was positive that a little privacy wouldn't exactly kill him.

It wasn't the greatest plan to try and be alone with his thoughts. He brain would swirl around ideas of Geoff on his date with Chloe. He told himself that it shouldn't matter and that he shouldn't care yet the thought plagued him. It was like a poorly constructed tattoo on the inside of his mind. He wished Geoff wasn't having a good time, even if he deserved it. The thought was selfish but it lingered longer than it should have.


The voice snapped him out of his trance before he collided with the body at the top of the stairs. His eyes trailed upward, locking eyes with a blonde haired boy. He was a little taller than Awsten, although Awsten standing two steps down from him still caused him to crane his next to speak to him. His eyes reminded him of Geoff's, the only difference being he felt like he could drown in his roommate's. He was beautiful, even if he was blocking off the top of the stairs.

"You're Awsten, right?" The blonde haired boy continued, gesturing for Awsten to come up the stairs. He turned his back to the purple haired boy to allow him access to the top floor of the house. He had no doubt that the person he behind him was the one Michaela had mentioned. No other person at the party had hair remotely similar to it aside from a girl with the tips of her hair dyed pastel pink.

"Uh, yeah." Awsten was relatively clueless on how this strange guy had any idea who the fuck he was. It took him a couple of moments to realize that he must have been a friend of Michaela's. That only solidified his theory that attractive people only hung around with other attractive people. After climbing the remaining steps, the stranger turned around and smiled at him, propping himself up against an empty space on the wall.

"Michaela mentioned you." He mentioned nonchalantly, taking a swing from his red solo cup. Awsten was positive it was infested with alcohol and wanted nothing to do with the person drinking from it suddenly. If he had been taking swings like that all night, he was positive that the person in front of him was probably drunk. There were few things Awsten hated more than drunk people. "I'm Viking. Not like a Viking or whatever but people call me Viking."

"Why the fuck do people call you Viking?" Awsten's dark brows were together in confusion. When you said the word viking, most people would have imagined someone with long, flowing, fiery red hair and a beard. Standing in front of him was a scrawny boy with less definition in his arms than Geoff. It didn't make any sense. Maybe it was ironic.

Game Over. Continue? // gawstenRead this story for FREE!