Maximus of Mine

Page 13 Beginning to Break

I hugged Max as we both lay on my bed. I was feeling a bit cold, so I wore that asshole's black hoodie, which was my hoodie now. Max was asleep, and I was gently brushing his fur.

"I wanted to be left in solitude, but, at the same, I also wanted to be terribly intimate with someone. A part of me rejects all that approaches me, emotions, feelings...people. But yet another part of me wants to be somebody who could let love be a blessing. I want to be someone who feels like a warm hug, but I also want to be an ice storm."

"And that's the beauty of it..." Casper lay on the floor, "You don't know what you want to be,"
"How is being indecisive about yourself beautiful?"
"Because that gives you the chance to be both,"
Whatever that was supposed to mean.

I looked at the pastel blue sky from my window as I was laying down, "I'm just afraid that I'll be left alone in the end,"
"Why? You have Dylan,"

"Hey guys," Someone awfully familiar knocked at the door, I recognized that voice, "Well, speak of the devil," Casper got up to open the door and Dylan walked in. Max didn't seem to like this unexpected visitor and the first thing he did after seeing this visitor was to jump at him and bite his wrist. Dylan yelled and Casper trying to calm the dog down. I pulled Max away from Dylan and soon they were sitting in two opposite corners. 

Casper welcomed him to our little apartment and they talked in his room, while I stared at them through the semi-open blinds. I lay beside Max and looked at Dylan and occasionally, he'd spare a glance and smile at me. 

Maybe, Casper saw that because that night after Dylan left our place, Casper and I stood at the balcony, watching Dylan walk past the little parked bicycles. He turned back and waved at us, tripping and falling on one of them. 

I chuckled and he looked up at me while laying on the bicycles. He had such a gleaming smile on his face, I think I never saw it the way I did it that night.

The next day, I sat before him, writing something in my diary when he got up to peep into it. And I hid it, "Privacy?"
"You want to go for a coffee?"
"Not with you," I smirked and he smiled as he sun-kissed face over his palms, "Why are you always so mean to me?"

I don't know.

Summer was passing along slowly. Sometimes, I wondered about that Dutch boy. That evening, I was wearing his black hoodie as Dylan and I sat in the library after class. I remember how the setting sun would light all the shelves golden, and every time I'd raise my eyes up from those absurd Dutch words among those yellow pages, I'd always find him looking at me.

"So beautiful," He'd say with an innocent smile. 
"I know," I'd look down at those pages, pretending that I didn't care. But maybe I did. There was something about him that I loved dearly, it was just not him, just something about him. I don't know how to make it make sense, a lot of time has passed, you see, and a lot of my memories are fading away. 

-To be continued