Chapter 3:
Blake's POV:
Oh, how I was so delighted to see Milo today. To listen to Milo ramble on about God knows what. To see his pretty face and how his expressions change when I mildly tease him. To be with him in those moments.
My good friend. Yes, a pal. Nothing more. Though I kind of wish we were more.
I cheerfully pranced around my bedroom half-naked like a world-class ballerina.
I always yearned to dance ever since I was a wee lad, but my parents said that it was, and I quote, too gay.
I skipped into the bathroom to go and take a shower. Momentarily, I got out and grabbed my cashmere towel that was hanging on the towel rack. I dried off my skin.
I fastened it around my lower midsection.
I gawked at my hideous frame in the mirror. Revolting truly. But whatever, that was another dilemma for another day. Even this could not ruin my contentment right now.
I was in such a good mood today that I even cooked. And God knows how much I despise cooking. It never goes right with me somehow.
*Bing.*
I snatched my iPhone off of the kitchen counter in a mad dash to check who texted me. I silently hoped it was Milo.
Milo: I will see you in about fifteen minutes. 7:15 A.M.
Me: :) Okay, see you soon.
7:17 A.M.
I pushed the French toast that I made into my mouth, also mixing it with the Apple juice. Surprisingly, I did not burn the toast. Well, not much.
Whatever, it beats consuming genetically modified packaged substances every single day instead.
As soon as I unlocked the door, Milo was already standing there with an enormous grin on his face. I could not help but to also smile. Oh, his smile was contagious.
"Hey, bitch," Milo announced, carelessly.
Now I was taken aback.
He is supposed to be my bitch.
"Ah-ah, no cursing on my Christian server. You have to go and wash your mouth out with soap now." I told him while wagging my finger in front of his face.
"Melanie Martinez stan much?" He laughed, smacking my finger away from his face, and he started walking.
"You know it." I asserted truly.
No shame. I was a stan.
Melanie Martinez is for everyone. Boy. Girl. Enby.
I turned around to lock my door, and I jumped down off the dark brown wooden porch steps.
As Milo was examining the time on his Apple watch, I saw something on his wrists.
It looked like finger grip marks.
It was all purple, red, and splotchy. What the fuck?
"What is on your wrists?" I questioned, reaching to inspect the marks.
"Mm uh um nothing." He mumbled, pulling his hands away from me.
YOU ARE READING
47 Freckles (BoyxBoy)
RomanceI counted them from the onset of his forehead, trailing to the bridge of his button nose, way down to his cleft chin. "Earth to Blake," Milo announced loudly, waving his hand in front of my view, stymieing me from gazing at his beautiful complexion...
