Open [boyxboy] ✓

thirty-five:: when he's not like the others.

"You're my son." He spoke, hands gripping my face and keeping my eyes centered on him as he spoke, "I promised myself when I held you for the first time that I'd do anything to protect you." I struggled to get out of his grip, not wanting to hear it but I felt his hands jerk me back into place. His eyes were staring straight into mine and I wanted to close them, not see the emotion he held embedded in his green irises. I forced myself to look back at him.

His bags were a deep purple, face blotchy as if he'd been crying himself to sleep for the past month, and his hair was graying a bit, barely noticeable unless you were this close. My father was only in his late thirties, he shouldn't have been gray. With his job and all the added stress, I could see the struggle. "She's not the most important person in my life anymore, you and Jade are and I'm not gonna let her hurt you." His voice was withering as he shook me, forcing the words past my ears and into my brain, "you guys are everything to me."

I was crying. I didn't want to cry but I couldn't stop. I'd been crying so much lately that I didn't even notice until his fingers were brushing away my tears. His throat clogged up and we were both a mess as he tried to reassure me that it wasn't my fault.

"You can cry." He was smiling, nodding through his tears as he pulled me into his chest and I shrunk against his work shirt, my father was the strongest person I knew and for him to get that weak in front of me, I knew how hurt he'd been lately and I felt horrible. His hand drew small circles on my back, the second shirt of his I'd ruined with my tears and he didn't care. "It's okay to cry."

"I love you." My voice was muffled but I knew he'd heard it, his hug getting tighter and at eighteen, I was finally understanding what being a man was. I wanted to be like my father.

: : :

Paul had arrived later on and after getting the okay from my dad, I'd brought him up to my room. Apparently he was suddenly cool with us being together, maybe it was because we weren't living together but I didn't know and I didn't want to push it.

I knew I had to get them to talk, show Paul that my dad didn't hate him but that would have to wait when we were sitting on my floor, Paul leaned against my bed and me against his chest as I fiddled with his fingers. I loved just being with him like this, enjoying his hand in mine and the way he'd tilt my head up to place a chaste kiss on my lips every once in a while.

I felt the need to break the silence, filling in a bit about myself as the time passed, we'd been talking beforehand but ended up trailing off into a comfortable silence. Burying further into his chest, I enjoyed his warmth.

Sort of like he was the bun and I was the hot dog... Forget that weird analogy.

He chuckled at me, pushing hair out of my face when I'd resurfaced and I smiled.

"What am I gonna do when you're some big soccer player?"

I grinned teasingly, pushing down the fact that I still hadn't even applied to colleges. My life was literally moving too fast for me to catch up and I mean, it wasn't even halfway through the year but... I was still scared. "Miss me."

He chuckled, "that's inevitable."

Sighing, I leaned back against his chest, shifting so I was in between his legs and his arms had been wrapped around me. Thinking about the future always made my heart hurt, maybe it was the fact that I knew Paul would be in Chicago and I'd be all the way in California (if I was accepted) and if I wasn't, he'd be making something of his life surrounded by smart and sexy college boys and I'd be holding him back.