His Jars of Hyacinths (STYLE)

13

POV: Stan

--

his door is locked.

i don't know why, but i noticed. it's locked.

the previous night when i went up to change, i went to go in his room, and the doorhandle wouldn't open. it rattled. kind of loudly too, it startled me.

he never used to lock his door. i wonder what changed.

--

i become aware of the rays of sunlight beaming through the window, brightening the room. my eyes feel heavy, and i keep them shut. it's too early.

my head aches slightly as i start to stir awake, becoming more conscious of my surroundings.

i lay at an angle - my head on some pillows as i lay against the armrest of the couch, my left arm resting on the back headboard of the cushioned exchange of a bed, and my legs angled off the right on the floor, almost like a weird sitting position.

there's a weight on my chest, and i catch myself looking down in a sort of sleepy haziness, to discover what was keeping me down.

Kyle lays there. his head resting by my ribs, on my chest. he peacefully sleeps, with his legs propped up on the opposite armrest, and his arms lazily hanging off the edge of the couch.

i find myself at a loss for words. sure, i'm surprised, but i don't feel like.. objecting. it's almost like there's a kind of comfort to this situation, a security in how close we are.

it's uncomfortable, but i don't want to move.

i kind of like it. no homo tho

i hear Kyle stir awake, and i close my eyes again, pretending to still be asleep. i'm curious on how he'd react thinking i'm asleep.

he lets out an "mmph" sound in objection to the light casted through the window, and turns over as a sleepy attempt to escape it, resulting in him falling off the couch.

i open my eyes a bit too suddenly, squinting at the bright light, then when my gaze falls upon Kyle, half-asleep, face first on the floor. i start to snicker, and it soon evolves into laughing.

"Shut up!" Kyle groans, standing up and staggering slightly back down on the couch as i continue to laugh. "It wasn't that funny."

"Oh my god-" i say between breathy laughs, as Kyle glares at me. "-that was so funny."

"You're such a child," he mutters, rolling his eyes and turning his face away from me in his own childish way, trying his best to hide the visible smile creeping on his face.

i continue to giggle at his reaction, sitting up properly as i keep my gaze locked on the boy sat next to me. "You're right," i start, "I'm sorry for laughing." trying to contain my stifled laughter, i smile genuinely at him, and he turns to face me again.

our eyes lock, and i swear his face went slightly pink. maybe i was imagining it though.

i felt my heart quicken at the sight of it though.

"Want me to make some breakfast?" he says suddenly, snapping me out of some strange trance that he held over me.

i blink a few times, then respond, "Oh sure, I can help though. I'm an awesome chef." i grin, clicking my tongue as Kyle looks at me with a judging but amused expression.

"Sure you are..." he gets up and heads into the kitchen, leaving me alone with his sarcastic remark.

normally i'd roll my eyes or say something sarcastic back, but this time, all i can do is smile.

i jump up from the couch and follow him into the kitchen, pulling a seat out from his dining table, and leaning back in it.

"Snap my chairs' leg, and I'll snap yours." Kyle says to me, while he cracks an egg into the frying pan.

"I wont break it," i respond, dragging on the «it».

"Why don't I believe you."

i shrug, and continue watching him cook. he cracks an egg into the pan and waits as it sizzles, occasionally adjusting its position with a spatula.

"Eggs?" i comment randomly, looking at the pan in an almost mesmerised way.

he heads over to the cupboard, pulling out two plates. "Yes, Stan, eggs."

"Fried?"

"Fried."

"Okay."

i watch him as he serves food, and we eat together in comfortable silence.

once we finish, i head back to the bathroom to get changed. curiosity floods through my veins as i step out the bathroom, changed, and set my eyes upon Kyle's locked door.

i know it's wrong, and an invasion of privacy, but i just really want to look inside and see whatever he's keeping secret from his mom or something.

i approach the door again, kneeling down so i'm eye level with the key hole, and i close an eye as i try to look through.

it's dark, nothing is really illuminated, except for very faint outlines of what i assume to be pure mess that Kyle is yet to clear up.

there are a few visible glints of light that i can only assume is being reflected off of some kind of glass. a mirror, maybe, some glasses, or a jar or vase. anything is possible. but how did Kyle let it get so messy? he's a clean-freak, a germaphobe. what changed?

i continue to walk downstairs, being greeted by the familiar red-head who stood by the door, twirling his house keys between his fingers.

"Finally dude! Cmon, I'm taking you out." he says, throwing my shoes at me.

"Wh-" i catch one of them, letting the other drop and land on the floor infront if me. "-where are we going?"

"To Stark's Pond."

i put my shoes on with some difficulty as i stand, looking at Kyle with confusion. "Sure, but why?"

"Why not? Now let's go." he walks out the door and waits for me to go behind him so he can lock the house up.

i step outside into the warmth - it's too hot for jackets or jumpers or even long sleeves. the curse of Summer in June.

i wait patiently as Kyle fiddles with his keys, struggling to get it into the actual lockhold. seeing his light frustration brings a smile to my face, and i don't know why.

i seem to be smiling a lot at him lately.

"Let's gooo!!" he says excitedly, taking me along with him as we walk to the nearest corner store.

we walk together, deep in conversation as we make our way down the side of the peaceful road. when we make it to a corner store, i hold the door open for him to pass through, and we excitedly search down the aisles together.

"We should grab snacks for a-" he stops talking, and before i can say much more, he speaks back up. "I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be quick."

and like that, he left me. he seemed almost desperate, and worried. should i go check on him? i want him to be okay. huh.

maybe i should check on him.

[1186 words]