Counting Minutes | Gay MxM |

12. Cup of Tea

"It's not getting any better anytime soon," Jordan continued, looking back at me.

"What isn't?"

"The weather."

"Oh... Well, I'll just have to go buy warmer clothes," I said cheerily. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"You have no idea how bad the storms can get around here," Jordan said with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You should go and find yourself a better place to stay."

"I can't just go and rent an apartment. I could maybe find a shed, or an abandoned building close-by," I said, thinking about my options.

"No... I mean, you should move on. Find a warmer state," Jordan continued, his voice almost too quiet for me to hear.

"Sorry. Can't do that," I said with a smile. He stared at me for a moment, then gave me a shy smile before hiding his face from me.

"Is it because of..." Jordan mumbled, but by the end of it, I couldn't hear him anymore.

"I didn't quite get that," I chuckled.

"Never mind," he said, but his red cheeks betrayed him.

I couldn't stop smiling. I took a careful sip of my tea and groaned when the warmth filled my body and soul. "This is so good..." I said and took a bigger gulp.

"I guess you can't make tea in that tent of yours," Jordan said.

"I should probably go buy a cooker. I can't prepare any five-star meals, but at least I'd get a warm dinner now and then," I spoke, practically hugging the hot cup to take in the warmth.

Jordan gave me a pitying look. I knew my life sounded awful for pretty much everyone, but I didn't see it like that. Sure there were bad moments, but there were a lot of good ones as well.

"What are you painting?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

"I..." Jordan looked at his painting and tilted his head. "I guess I'm trying expressionism this time."

"What?" I chuckled, and he turned his painting so I could see it. The canvas was half-filled with red, green, and yellow stripes in no particular order or form. "Ah."

I turned my attention back to Jordan, who was studying the lines. He seemed fascinated by them, and I would've taken a closer look at the painting if Jordan himself wasn't much more fascinating to me.

It took him a while to inspect his work, and I didn't bother him. I enjoyed the peace and quiet as I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, sipping my tea. I let my eyes trail up and down on his body, feeling so much joy to be allowed to do so without having to hide behind the flowers. Yes, I was well aware of how bad that sounded.

Jordan probably forgot I was there, since when he turned around and saw me, he flinched, almost jumping away from the wall.

"Sorry..." I said, taking a step back as well.

Jordan shook his head, keeping his eyes on the floor. He took several deep breaths before he was able to look up again. He let out a light chuckle, but his entire body screamed nervousness.

"Should I leave you alone?" I asked.

"No, don't," Jordan hurried to say. "Please. I can manage."

"I..." I mumbled and stepped back next to the wall. "I hate to see you scared," I told him quietly.

He stared at me for a moment, tilting his head, looking at me the same way he had looked at his painting just now.

"Why are you like this?" he asked.