Kaleidoscope

ii

The house looked quite menacing as I approached it alone, the outer walls a old white, green smears from what I assume was cutting the grass, layered on the bottom. I went around the back, though I could've went through the front door, since his father's car didn't seem to be here. I went to what I believed was his room's window. I hesitantly rose my hand, my hand curling into a fist as I knocked once, then twice.

The blinds shifted, slowly opening a smidge. I saw a brown eye peek through, widening as it settled on me. The blinds pulled upwards, giving me a view at the person inside. Dark circles painted underneath his eyes, along with faded pink streams that looked wet.

"Potter? Heh?" Boris tilted his head, sniffling.

He opened the window, holding out his hand. I looked at it for a second, shot him a soft smile and took hold of it. Boris pulled me up, it taking effort. Once inside, he closed his window and pulled down the blinds, closing them too. Boris turned to face me, "You are here? Why?"

"Why are you here? I mean, you usually hang out with me." I retorted, though my eyes flooded with worry.

Boris sighed, his hands uncurling from fists. He pulled me closer and I tensed. His hands rested on my waist for a second and I felt my heart stop beating as if I was having a heart attack. I knew my face was heating up and I hoped he didn't notice. Our noses were inches away, just like the night we shared cigarettes. His hands moved their way up my body, wrapping around me as they stopped at my back. Boris pulled closer, his head resting on my shoulder.

He was hugging me. Gooseflesh rose and spread all across my body. I wrapped my arms around him, and I felt my feet rise, he lifted me up at least one inch from the ground. "I missed you, Potter..."

I didn't say anything, struggling for words. Silent, I laid my head on his shoulder as he did with me. I slowly let out a sigh and ran my hand through circle motions on his back, like my mother did.

"Hey... Puppy, what's wrong?" Would run through my mind so much I found my self saying, "Hey... what's wrong?"

"Father got angry. Didn't listen. Got hurt, I guess..." Boris' grip on me loosened, and I felt himself closing back up again.

I wanted him to tell me what was wrong, but I didn't want to push it. I heard a sniffle, and I glanced at Boris, no longer holding me, but now crying. I sat down on his messy bed and quickly, Boris laid next to me. He tried his best to keep his head low, to avoid me seeing him cry, I presumed.

I was going to help him, so I held out my arms. Boris hesitated for a second. Then, just as I was about to lower them, he pressed against me. After a moment of overthinking, I wrapped my arms around Boris, his head on my chest, tears dampening my sweater. My face burrowed gently in the black curls, strawberry scent wafting to my face. My hands moved to his back again, and I made circles.