Love Is Blind [boyxboy love story]

Chapter Twenty-Six: Chronomentrophobia - Fear of Clocks

This is a boyxboy love story. Warned. Clean.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Chronomentrophobia - Fear of Clocks

♥ Adrian’s POV ♫

           "You were going to jump?  Why?  Why were you...?"

            "Jump?!  Are you nuts?!  I would've died!" he looked genuinely shocked and I stared at him.

            "You weren't...?"

            "Fuck no, are you crazy?!" he sounded insulted.

            "You were at the edge of a effing twenty-five story building, crying, and you are asking if I'm crazy?!" I snapped.

            "You tackled me on a rooftop, crying, crazy!" he screamed.  His face was dark red and I noticed he was crying.  Full out bawling.  I felt a pull at my chest and I looked down to see he was wrapping his legs around my chest and winding his arms around my next.  He was totally doing the crying toddler thing I thought he got over when he was two, but apparently not.  If it was another day, I would've shoved him off, but I knew I could make an exception for today.

            He was crying into my next, whimpering, "Adrian, Adrian, Adrian."  Again, and again, as if he couldn't believe was actually here.

            I blinked before sighing, wiping my own tears and patted his back.  I tried to get up and stood up tall, and then realized he's probably not going to let go.  Clutching onto me, he cried, "Ajay, you're heavier now."

            He sniffled and began to quiet down.

            "Get off me."

            He slowly released me and then looked at me, "I love you, brother."

            "Okay... brother.  Are you high or something?"

            "Huh?"

            "You are standing on top of the roof, I tackle you to save you and you call me crazy and then you monkey hugged me!" I quickly muttered, annoyed.

            "I go up here to relax," he whispered, and he grinned, "It reminds me of you."

            "Oh, really?  Because it's dangerous and stupid?"

            "You're still insulting yourself I see," he said, softly.  He looked down, "You ever finish high school?"

            "Not really.  I had to earn money first," I said and sighed, "Don't change the subject, how does it remind you of me?"

            "You'd always said you end up in a big city, I've always imagined you on top of a tall building, with a bunch of people, being famous."

            I smirked, "That's not me.  I barely get by."

            "Mr. McQueen told me that you sell your paintings in the art studio down town and you play music at coffee clubs.  He says you could make it far in either profession but you can't make up what you do.  He says that you could still shame Oscar if you went school with him, no matter how long you've been away."

            "Anybody could do that."

            He chuckled and looked at me, "Are you gay?"

            "Pansexual."

            "Huh?"

            "Either will work with me."