it was you all along. | boreo

part 3

It was a Sunday morning, me and Boris were lounging on the couch watching old horror movies and drinking terrible margaritas Boris made from scratch. We both stared at the screen as the main character kissed a man, and I covered my eyes. "Why are you covering your eyes? Gross, eh?" I rolled my eyes. "You've been kissed before, right Potter?" Boris asked with a snicker, moving closer to me. I wanted to lie to him, to tell him that I had, cause knowing Boris he's probably been kissed by dozens of people. I stayed silent, my eyes darting across the room. "Fine. I haven't." I choked out, and he let out a laugh. Than Boris did something that I never would have expected, he leaned in and grabbed my face, pressing his lips to mine. After a moment our faces parted and I stared at him, speechless and flustered. "There, now you've been kissed. You are very welcome!" I stuttered, "Boris, why would you do that?! We're both boys for gods sake!" Boris' smiled seemed to instantly fade, and he looked a bit embarrassed. "I didn't think that would matter..." he whispered. "Of course it fucking matters!" I screamed as my face turned red, getting up and walking to the front door than slamming it behind me. I started to run home, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. The truth was that I was confused, and I was scared. The moment that Boris kissed me the feelings I had stuffed down for ages were confirmed. I love him.

Later that night I sat below my window, smoking in silence. All I wanted was to see Boris, yet I fucked up any chance of talking to him again. As much as I wanted to be near him, I knew that my life would turn to hell if anyone found out. What would my dad think? Even worse, what would Boris' dad think. His dad had always been an alcoholic, and a major asshole. I'd only met him a handful of times, but countless times has Boris comes up to me covered in bruises. I spent all night thinking about Boris, than about my mom. I try not to think about her, and I don't talk about her either. Basically the only times she's come up in conversation is when I've been crazy drunk. Yet tonight I found myself thinking about her, wondering if all that heaven bullshit is real, wondering if she actually watches over me, and wondering if she would hate me for the feelings I have.

The next few weeks were a blur, sitting alone at lunch, attempting to read the russian books scattered around my house, getting drunk alone, and falling asleep by dinner. All I thought about was Boris, I hadn't spoken to him since the night he kissed me. I knew he would assume I hate him, I would assume that too if I wasn't myself. But I was just scared, I mean I guess it all makes sense, me liking Boris, but it's still terrifying and new. I couldn't help myself from worrying about him, what if his dad is home, or if he's blackout drunk. I would try to brush these thoughts off, Boris may be thin and sickly looking but he is scarily tough.

I was laying on my side in bed, gazing at my night stand. My alarm clock read: 2:34am. I groaned, sleeping has always been hard, at the Barbours I took some sort of pill but nowadays without Boris it's impossible to keep a normal sleep schedule. I jolted up after hearing a knock on my window, and rushed over. Such enough, it was Boris, and as he climbed into my room and flipped on a lamp I could see his face was swollen and caked with blood. I stared at him in shock, not knowing what to do. "Listen Potter- I know you must hate me and I'm really really sorry about what I did but my dads home and I didn't know where else to go" Suddenly I felt my eyes tear up, and I grabbed Boris and melted into his arms. "I don't hate you! I'm so sorry Boris but I was scared and I was confused and-" he brought a finger to my lips and made a shh noise. "It's okay, I was confused, we can talk more about soon but-" I gasped, I was so caught up that I forgot what his face looked like. "Fuck- stay here I'll be right back I'm gonna go get Xandra's first aid kit!"