The Queerest [🗸]

macky's, hangouts, and breakfasts

Soren Choi is jogging up to me, one of those star-striking smiles playing at his lips.

His hair's a mess, earrings crescent moons, sleeves rolled up as a dragon peeks from his forearm.

His feet keep moving as the slight breeze pushes him forward, feet padding on the pavement, down the sidewalk, and finally, up to the front of the school where I stand, a grin pulling at the corner of my lips.

"Damien," he says through quick gusts, hands resting on his knees before he straightens up, running a quick hand through black strands of hair. 

"Soren," I say, a grin rising to my lips as he slides his hands into oversized jeans, one hand leaving his pocket to wipe a sheen of sweat from his forehead. 

Students bustle past us and into the school that looms behind where we stand, Soren's eyes smiling once they catch onto mine.

It's strange being in the whole in-between phase. That phase we're you're not just quite friends, but no one's slapped a label over anything, because you're still wading into the waters, too tentative to officialize anything.

For example, Soren and I have essentially texted all weekend, haven't exactly seen each other face-to-face since the kiss, with the exception of Soren's spontaneous video calls, where he swears profusely, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket as he only exposes his forehead and eyes to the camera, the rest covered by his blanket burrito.

Sort of like we're friends, except with added differences like the occasional slight flirts woven into Soren's texts, which I didn't exactly realize were flirts until Santiago had hit me upside the head and bluntly stated: "open your fucking eyes, tonto."

So, yes, the in-between phase isn't necessarily a bad place to be, but it definitely has my face heating up every time a smile rises to his lips, and it definitely causes me to overanalyze every single thing I'm saying  or take five minutes too long to respond to a text because I'm trying to form a good response.

Other than that, Soren's smile still makes my heart do gymnastics and seeing him has an inevitable smile rise to my lips.

"Hey," he says, taking a step closer to me as he pushes hair behind his ears, eyes meeting mine. His hands fidget at his sides as though he's trying to figure out what to do with them.