Chase You

20; late night conversations are the weirdest

I will be your guardian
When all is crumbling
I steady your hand

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I watched his face soften by fraction, he smiled down at me and came close again so that he could grip the edge of the countertop I was sat on, with him stood this close, practically breathing down my neck, I felt a little uncomfortable.

However, I didn't say anything because my lips felt as if they were stitched together after saying something so cheesy like I just had.

I can't let go of somebody who'd make me feel like one of those stupidly lucky people, I repeated in my head.

I just wanted to thwack myself over the head because the old Flynn would never say anything like that, he was brave, strong, fearless and anything but soft, but it seemed like Ben always bought out this side of me that I had never experienced before. It's funny because I haven't known him like this for that long but I felt like I could talk to him about anything and everything. I reckon it was because I felt that he was always one step ahead of me and he gave great advice - always as if he's revised what to say for days on end.

He's had to deal with some shit, he's had issues in the past that I just know that he understands and it felt almost crucial that I keep him around.

Glancing to him now, I reminisce those times when I'd shrink under those bright green eyes, but that's behind us now because now I only see eyes that make me feel all warm and cared for and they're incomparable to the vibes I get from everyone I know.

Marcia almost had that same effect, but opening up to her was hard because she'd somehow spin things around and talk about her own problems as if she can understand what's wrong, but she doesn't. Not always.

I looked down to the ground, but he was stood so damn close that I found myself staring at his crotch instead, not a white tile was in sight, just black denim. Tight black denim. Curse him for wearing those jeans, sure they weren't that tight compared to what most people wear nowadays, but they did reveal a distinguishable bulge.

"Is Flynn Hopper really turning into a softie?" He said with fake intrigue, I pursed my lips together to keep myself from spitting out my record of forty cuss words within a minute.

I looked up ever so slowly, admiring his angel sculpted abs as I traced my eyes over them, he had a playful grin on his lips and I just went ahead and shoved his chest for the shits and giggles.

"You never finished your story." I mumbled. I wondered if he actually understood what I said.

"Changing the subject are we?"

"Well of course, now tell me." I pushed.

"Which story?"

"About the foster home you lived in."

His face contorted into his usual, blank stare and his defined jawline  and clenched fists away the fact he was gritting his teeth.

"There's not much to say, it's not that important to be honest." He trailed off.

I pinched him.

"What was that for?!" He snapped.

"Don't say it's not important." I bit, "tell me that, or tell me what you are."