XVI

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This week I watched boy erased(it wrecked my emotions), beautiful boy (timothee's acting is so good!!), drew troye, caught up on schoolwork, felt sad alot and reread couple of tracob stories which made me feel better :)
How has your week been so far?
Also stream "im so tired" on 24th jan sisters, the song title is already a mood and its with LAUV i can't wait.
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When they reach the record shop, Jacob's stomach feels sufficiently lighter than it has for the past week, Troye's buoyant laugh and curls and footsteps lifting most of the strain away. It almost makes Jacob feel like himself again, his mind shut off, his body relaxing, his phone silent in his back pocket. Somewhere in his brain he's aware that he's still involved in a great, big mess, still owes Timothee and needs to suck it all up and stick with the plan...

But today is not that day.

Today is dedicated to the autumn breeze and pink cheeks, pinker lips, and bright eyes that reflect the golden sun hovering above the horizon, skimming over the rooftops and soaking into the shop windows, reflecting back prisms. Today is dedicated to Jacob finally feeling some physical relief, finally feeling a smile form naturally again. To feeling Troye's elbow bumping into his side intermittently when he ducks his head in a smile and glances at Jacob beneath his lashes, when he thinks Jackb can't see him. But Jacob always sees him.

"After you," Jacob smirks as he holds open the door of the shop for Troye , watching him trip over the leaf-covered cracks in the pavement and gathering himself with a complete lack of grace or composure. He laughs when Troye sends an adamant glare, laughs even more when he can't maintain it for the life of him.

"Thank you," Troye replies haughtily, but his whole air is diminished by his wide smile that pulls a small dimple from his cheeks. It's one of those odd little details of Troye that just make him more enchantingly unforgettable, that smile, that asymmetrical indent, those large teeth and full set of lips.

"You're just so bloody adorable, aren't you?" Jacob finds himself cooing in a tease, holding open the door with one hand and extending his other to firmly press his thumbprint into Troye's cheek. It feels good, so he keeps it there; the alarm bells inside of his head are muted, instead replaced by a peaceful hum, so he doesn't think about it because this is probably part of the plan and probably something Timothee would approve of. Mostly, though, it's no big deal. Just nice. So he stops it at that.

Troye seems to think it's nice, too.

He's full-on stopped, caught in the threshold between inside and outside, just staring at Jacob with a horrifically beautiful sort of wonderment in his eyes, lips slack and eyes wide. His skin is shaded in reds that would make nearby leaves envious and he nearly blends into his surroundings with the orange of his jumper. Everything bright and warm.

"I am?" he questions, his grin slow to grow as he stares at Jacob unblinkingly. Without breaking the gaze, he lifts his own hand, gently wrapping his fingers around Jacob's wrist, holding it in place against his cheek. Just keeping it there as Jacob's thumb brands itself into Troye's flesh.

A low swoop jumbles Jacob's small intestine. Maybe his liver, maybe the kidneys and gallbladder, too. Maybe he's been sufficiently scrambled up, like an egg. Jacob is a fucking egg.

One, two, three, four seconds pass with Jacob's thumb pressed hard into Troye's smile, Troye's hand delicately wrapped around his bones, their eyes tangled up and their smiles chapping in the cool evening wind. It's oddly nerve-wracking and it makes Jacob feel winded, so he eventually pulls his hand away—but not before brushing his thumb down the slope of Troye's jaw, and the boy's eyes infinitesimally flutter at that. Flutter like Jacob's seen them flutter before.

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