You wake to a suffocating realm of pungent bodily odors, putrid socks, loose wires, dirty clothes, weed, almost darkness, and what sounds to be crying. If you've correctly pieced it together in that emotionless void in your skull, you'd guess your in a shared boys dormitory. But who are you to guess so spot on like that? It's completely out of character! Foolish! Naive! Unacceptable! Impo-
Your leg feels moist.
You peer down through your now mildly spiced opticals, and see that the boy with the nice toosh from earlier is softly crying into your plush lap. He is being comforted by your best high school chum, Bobby.
" There's no need to cry man! (n/n) is gonna get out aliiivvee! She hasn't flat lined yet! "
He motions to the electric clock on the night stand. It's 10:34. He looks to you and beats a fist against his chest with a whispery " So strong. " Max lifts his head, sniffling and wiping his eyes " I know Bobby. " he says this tolerantly and a bit nasally. He squints at you, and finally notices you squinting back through the same peppery pain. He's about to say something before Bobby interrupts with a girlish squeal of excitement. He practically tackles you and squeezes you in a hug
" AHOH! SHIT YOUR ALIIIIVVV'AH! "
he is immediately hushed suddenly by multiple hisses and " Be quiet! "s, which makes you realize you three are not alone in this room. You look up and see a quiet a few people stuffed into this small dorm room, wiping each other's eyes and helping in other means. You stare for a moment, and nudge the boy with the exquisite rump.
" Why are all these people- "
You cut off, startled by the raspiness of your own voice. You put one hand to your throat while the nicely assed boy answers you " Well.. Were all in crippling debt and nobody can afford a hospital, so we all just came here. " you let out a small grunt as a 'that makes sense' because it does and you won't question my authority. You look back down at this hunk of man, and realize you never caught a name. Or maybe you did, but I don't care huH-hA. You give his shoulder a poke and question " Name? " scratchily. " Names Max. " he extends a hand out to you
" And yours is? "
" (y/n) "
you take his hand and give it a shake, captured by his strong grip. Your surprised, cause this guy honestly looks like a twink, but he's a strong twink. Who doesn't love a strong twink? You blush a bit, but you don't really notice because your face felt like it was burning up already. Though along with that burning sensation of pain and suffering, you also feel a burning sense.. of attraction. It pulls you in, and beckons you to utter this simple, grossly scratchy question.
" S-o, yo-u.. u..uhm.. wan-na g..o out fo-r coffe..e later? "
" Uhhh, I don't think we can. "
Your hurt
Disheartened
Utterly crushed!
The boy of your dreams just rejected you, ugh,
WHAT WILL YOU DO?!
" I'm pretty sure that place is quarantined right now, but we can go out somewhere else.
"
...Damn bitch you jump conclusions faster than I can write this.
A redder looking Max scratches the back of his neck nervously, looking down " S-So uh.. " he clears his throat, but his voice still has a boyish crack to it " Saturday at 8 sound good? " it sounds absolutely adorable. A smile slowly spreads across your lips. You nod and wiggle happily to a fluttery feeling in your chest, the butterflies are festering now. What you hadn't realized, is that Bobby is right beside the both of you, slack jawed as this seemingly minuscule exchange. He deeply inhales but immediately gains a room of hisses to be quiet, and he does remain so, letting out all the air and then teasingly whispering to you " Oooohhhhhh guuurrlllll " your not much of a psychic, but you feel like.. maybe, just maybe, this'll be good.
