The last strands (#Tronnor)

Chapter 5: The fall

It was a bad idea, a horribly bad idea. But Connor had made up his mind. Well, not really; he was still debating whether he should do it or not. But at least he was still considering the possibility, and he considered that “progress.”

But what was the difference, anyway? After all, Troye was his friend, they always did stuff together. Well, when they were in the same country, that is. But that was beside the point. What difference would it make if he wanted to see Troye today than any other day? It was the same. Troye was in Los Angeles, in fact he should take advantage of that and see him as often as he could. But what if Troye was with Tyler? Connor for most definitely did not want to see Tyler. Of course there’s always the chance that Troye is not with him… who was he kidding? Troye was always with Tyler. Then, maybe, if he asked… Troye would ditch Tyler for him?

And even if; was that what Connor really wanted?

This senseless argument with himself went on and on indefinitely, as the young youtuber went from one end of his bedroom to the other, in nothing but his sleeping underclothes. Last night, he barely had any sleep. He would wake up often, looking all around him, hoping to find something in the room with him. Something, or someone. He wasn’t sure why, but ever since his shower “event”, like he wanted to call it, he couldn’t help but question why he thought he knew what Troye’s lips tasted like. It’s not like he had kissed his friend or anything.

Even if at the very idea of kissing them, Connor’s skin crawled with wishing.

-“Oh my God…”—said the boy, as he collapsed on top of his bed and covered his face with his white pillow—“Honestly, what am I thinking?”

He took a glance at his nightstand, and saw his cellphone resting comfortably over the wooden table. What would he do? There was no reason to act any differently around Troye. A fantasy was just that, a fantasy. And Connor had plenty of those before, whether he thought about them often or not. Boys will be boys, even if they like boys. So why the feeling of guilt? Of unrequired curiosity?

Connor picked up his cellphone, both excited and compelling. He was going to do it. He would call Troye, and ask to hang out like he normally would have, without any second thoughts or without any doubts, especially now that he was certain that Troye was one of his closest friends.

Cinnamon and mint, Connor. Cinnamon and mint.

He left the cellphone down. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it, because he was haunted by a memory he didn’t know where it belonged. He didn’t want to face a truth that might have been there the whole time, resting in his mind. He feared and dreaded the consequences.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

His phone?

Connor checked the caller ID. Speaking of the devil.

The moment he saw it he picked up, without even realizing it. Almost like a reflex, unaware of his own acting. Only when he had the phone against his cheek did he realize that he had just done what he was meaning to avoid, and there he laid frozen, unable to form any words or thoughts.

-“Hello?”—asked Troye from the other end of the line—“Connor? You there?”

Oh he was there. And he was enjoying the musicality that only Troye could offer him, even if it was for milliseconds. But he had to answer, or else things would get out of hand quickly enough.

-“Hi! Yes, I mean hey! Troye! Yes, I am here… good morning! How are you? I mean, I saw you just the other day but… yeah what’s up?”

Connor made a mental note to slap himself as soon as he ended the call.