Solace (completed)

Chapter Twenty-One

Part 1 of a triple update
______________________________

Alex Solace

Monday's can suck a dick.

   Like imagine if Mondays were men, okay? 'Cause who likes men anymore?

I would want that man to suck the fattest dick he could find- and choke.

Because I fucking hate Mondays.

But ever since I've known a brown haired boy with a pretty face and a heart of gold, I've felt a bit differently.

Ralph Macchio— I'm kidding.

Elias has made my days more enjoyable, it got to the point where I was excited to go to school just to see him. I didn't notice it at first, but I sure as hell do now.

He's made the past two months of my life enjoyable in ways I never thought possible. Nobody's ever made me feel the way he does and I don't know how to take it.

He's just... Elias. I don't know how else to say it. For some reason unbeknownst to me, he's special. I've never let anyone touch me the way he has, and liked it. Yearned for it. For the first time in my life, I want his touches and kisses, all because it's him.

I didn't know why I let him do the things he does. I let him touch my belly, the way he puts me in a headlock when we sleep and I find it comforting, just cuddling and sleeping with him in general... I didn't know why I allow him to do it.

Because it's him. Because he's Elias. There's no other way to describe it than that.

The way he holds me, smiles at me, kisses me, I believe he cares. My heart believes that he cares. My mind is an evil bastard who nags at me day and night, but when I'm in his arms, my heart believes that he cares. I believe that he cares.

The way he looks at me, I've never seen him look at anyone like that. This whole time I've known him, he's never talked or mentioned another girl. If he saw me as a friend, wouldn't he tell me about that stuff?

And another thing. He stops. For the first time in my life, when the kisses and touches get too heated, he stops. And then he'll hold me tighter or kiss me lightly, almost as an act of reassurance.

Reassurance of what? I don't know. But it helps.

Sometimes I cry. I cry from how beautiful those moments are, how sometimes I can imagine what they would look like from a third person's perspective. I cry because of how attached I'm getting and I cry because I know that without even trying I'm giving him my heart and he doesn't even know it. And there's nothing I can do about it.

He's perfect. He's loving, he's respectful, he's never laid a violent hand on me, he's never been angry with me- or so he says. He makes my heart pound and he overwhelms me with care and just... love. I can't call it like, I have to call it love.

But I'm so fucking scared.

I'm scared because I'm starting to trust him. I'm scared because I'm starting to like him. I'm scared because I look for him, I crave him, and my heart wants him.

And I'm fucking terrified.

But at the same time, I want it. I never want it to end. The best way to put it is this—

   I want the aspects of the relationship, without the title. Because if we have the title, then he has the power to break that title and tear my heart into a thousand pieces.