Blue Coffee Mugs and the Agoraphobic [boyxboy] ✔

Crushes

NINE

the amazing cover was made by owelle thank you so much again! If you're ever in need of a cover, I strongly recommend them! Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

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4:56am

I sit at my desk, over my notebook and write down more or less random shit because I can't sleep.

Austin. Austin. Austin. Austin. Austin. Austin.
It's 5am, I haven't slept and I like Austin Carlile. Austin. Austin.

What even are crushes? Who came up with them and how can you get rid of one?

I am constantly fighting myself, because part of me is like "Maybe something will come from it" and another part is all, "Stop. He doesn't like you. So stop for your, his and your friendships' sake." But I can't stop.

I can't fucking stop - I'm constantly thinking about him. How he slept in a fucking hammock with me, how he carried me inside and touched my face and ran his fingers through my hair.

I like the way he will stick his tongue between his teeth when he grins and I like the little crinkles that appear on his face when he laughs. His eyes are gorgeous, although I don't know in what way. They're actually pretty simple, brown eyes.

And as I said, I've never liked brown eyes (probably because mine are brown), but his are absolutely stunning.

I smile at the thought of him. Oh god, Alan. Stop.

Suddenly a wave of sadness overcomes me. I slip onto the floor and hug my legs to my chest, pretending that it's Austin's arms who are holding me tightly. I'm pathetic. The thing is, I am almost a hundred percent sure that I will never even have the slightest chance of being with Austin. Austin is funny and gorgeous and outgoing. Plus, he is most likely straight, while I'm a sexually confused, coffee-obsessed, agoraphobic, short ginger with absolutely no self-esteem.

To be honest, I don't really like myself. I'm strange. My lips are too plump for my face, but they're still as pale as my entire skin, so that it looks weird. My hair never cooperates and my eyes just have a weird color. Additionally, my agoraphobia doesn't increase my value, nor does my constant bad mood.

I'm just not a very great person, and I've been okay with that - until now. Now, I just want to impress Austin, make him pay all of his attention to me, make him like me, consider me a friend and trust me. It's all about Austin. Austin. Austin. Austin.

I get back up and pick up my pen again.

Fuck you. Fuck you for being so cute, fuck you for being so nice, fuck you for being so goddamn funny and smart. Fuck you for being fun and spontaneous. Fuck me for liking it because it's just so, so stupid.

I feel strange, for once not writing insignificant stories, with horrible writing and plot lines or an essay. I'm writing down my feelings and it's strange because suddenly, my thoughts are sorted out. I can read them and try to understand them, as long as they're not just one big tornado of half-finished sentences inside of my head.

---

Austin's pov.

It is a Saturday morning, just after 6am. It isn't entirely dark anymore, but the sun isn't rising just yet, either. You can make out silhouettes and outlines of things. If you take a closer look, you can even make out what exactly you are looking at. I'm in the hammock with Alan again. It sort of became our place.

He's sitting in between my legs, his back to my chest. He probably doesn't even think anything of it, since he has no other choice but to stay in this position. However, it makes me want to smile and laugh and throw up because I'm so, so happy.

We're both silent, him mesmerized by how beautiful the fog looks as it is hovering right above the dark green blades of grass and me mesmerized by how beautiful he is. A gust of wind hits us, messing his hair up and tugging at his clothes, trying to carry them away.

I can't help but be jealous. The wind gets to touch Alan more than I ever will. He can run his fingers through his pretty ginger locks, caress his bare skin and I can't. I can't because it would be inappropriate and weird. Honestly, I've never been attracted to a male person before. But I've also never been this attracted to anyone for that matter. I don't know how he does it but Alan somehow manages to make my brain go crazy (or shut off completely). I can't help the smile that's constantly tugging at the corners of my lips when I'm around him or the fact that I never want to stop looking at him - ever.

Alan's pov.

I try not to breathe too heavily as I'm sitting in between Austin's legs. It feels so nice, because I'm cold and he's warm and he's tall and I'm short. It fits and it's nice.

Nobody says anything, but I feel like it's not a completely comfortable silence. It's that kind of silence where everyone knows that someone wants to say something - but decides not to. I wonder what Austin might be thinking about and what he wants to say. Also why he doesn't just say it and wether he'll bring it up at some point or forget about it and never mentions it again.

I lean my head back so it's resting against his chest. He sighs and places his chin on top of my head. After a few minutes, he finally takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. I don't know why he does it and if it means anything, but it is also nice.

"Your hands are cold", Austin states in a whisper. I can feel his breath right behind my ear, and I almost shiver. It definitely makes goosebumps appear on my arms and I just hope Austin doesn't notice.

"And yours are really warm. Give me your other hand.", I demand, acting as though I don't wanna hold his hand, but steal some of his body heat.

Actually, both are kind of true but the main reason is me wanting to hold his hands.