Honey Voice.

▪ Chapter Sixteen ▪

sometimes to self-discover

you must self-destruct

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It had been four days since they had been to the amusement park. It had been four days since P'Kim had showed Bas his vulnerable side.

It had been four days since Bas' first kiss.

And that was all Bas was dreaming about. Everytime he closed his eyes, P's handsome face appeared, his big eyes watching him intently, but also openly, boldly and evidently. And everytime that happened, his insides melted and a shiver ran down his spine, and within seconds he was smiling involuntarily. And even though his heart was doing somersaults each and every single time, Bas felt excited, and... alive. and the feeling was surprassing every trace of nervousness that he was experiencing. He was nervous, and embarrassed, and when he thought about what had happened, his cheeks turned bright red and his breathing quickened, yet above all of this, he was happy, and safe, and proud. He was so proud of himself he couldn't even put it into words. But he was, and he still couldn't believe that someone like him had been able to do that.

He had kissed P'Kim.

He had kissed him, he had kissed him because he had wanted to, he had kissed him because P' had wanted him to, he had kissed him because he needed him and P' needed me too. And he was still here, safe and sound. Everything was okay. Nothing bad had happened.

But something good had.

Now it had been four days, and Bas was still thinking about it, and he was dreaming about it and replaying it in his head over and over again. The image wouldn't go away. He closed his eyes and P' was there, and he could see his black eyes, and his white skin, and his sweet smile. And it was all Bas could think about.

And better yet than the images, were the feelings. Because Bas couldn't just see him; he could also feel him. He could feel the soft skin of P's face against his, and of his hands holding him, and he could feel the coldness of it, and he could feel the pressure of his fingers against his waist, and his hair brushing his face. And most of all, he could feel his lips. And they felt sweet, warm, and tender. And they felt exciting and thrilling. And they felt like pride and accomplishment. But they also felt like love, and... home. They felt like home. They felt safe. And Bas liked safe. Safe, but exciting.

It had been four days, and Bas had been with him as much as he had beeb able to. Whenever P' wasn't working or helping his mum, he asked Bas to do something with him. And Bas' heart raced to an unknown beat, a beat of its own, P's beat. They hadn't done much, just the usual. They had gone to the café twice, they had gone to the park once, and another time he had taken Bas to the cinema. P' had let him pick the film because he knew how enthusiastic Bas was about films. They watched The King's Speech, and P' didn't fall asleep once, so Bas had decided he had to marry him right then. You don't find that many people who accompanies you to watch The King's Speech and doesn't fall asleep. And he had held his hand. He held his hand throughout the film, and in the park, and over the table in the café. And everytime he did, Bas needed him a little bit more. And every time, his hand was cold in temperature, but still managed to make him warm. That would always make Bas wonder.

And it was now saturday afternoon, and, as usual, Bas was freaking out. But this time it was justified, because after having been texting P' for the whole day since he had woken up, at exactly three twenty three p.m, P' had called him, which he had found odd at first, because he knew Bas didn't like talking on the phone and because he never called, he always texted. So Bas had answered, nervous and confused. But P' had also been nervous, and sttutering, and for a brief moment Bas had thought that a part of him was rubbing itself on P'.