𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁 // BL

𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘳. (𝘒𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘗𝘖𝘝)

I am beyond myself.

Xavier is laying on the floor, his arms resting behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling. All the blankets I brought to the living room for him are sprawled on the floor, some wrapped haphazardly around his legs.

I felt bad that I didn't have a sleeping bag or anything like that. I wasn't really sure what people did at sleepovers. In the movies I saw girls gathered around in huddles, giggling and painting their nails. James and I had had some sleepovers, but back then I'd always had my mom to mediate. And Tracy......Tracy treated my home like it was hers, so I never had to be a proper host.

I slowly look over at Xavier. But he's so different from the BOTH of them. I'm not...I'm not really sure what to say. Or do.

     I take a sharp breath and exhale in slow frustration at my inability to function as a normal, social human being.

     I don't realize that I've zoned out staring at him until he turns to look at me. Our eyes meet and he gives me a surprisingly shy smile. His eyes are gentle and soft, but I can tell he has something he wants to say.

      "So, Kace." He ventures cautiously
       "Do you....um. Well, for me, when my grandfather passed away.....I didn't want to talk about it at first. I avoided those feelings for a longgg time. But eventually, there came a point where I needed to talk about it. About him. And once I did, I felt a lot better. It didn't take away the fact that I had lost him, or the fact that it hurt, but expressing it definitely helped me take an edge off the pain."

      His gaze is soft but intense, blue eyes glinting in the dim light.

       "So are you ready to talk about it?"

I am taken aback by how up front he is about it. I feel a slight flutter in my heart. A flare of hope, like a candle that had suddenly sparked, but then extinguished just as quickly. I look down at Xavier, trying to read him, but he looks as patient and calm as ever.

"You really waste no words." I say dryly.

He shrugs. "I say what I think. Life's short. I mean, you really don't have to tell me you know. If you aren't comfortable yet." He says nonchalantly.

I steal another glance at him.

He isn't looking at me anymore, he's just facing the ceiling. His arms are still behind his head and for the first time I notice how dark his lashes are. They're dark like his hair, and they frame his eyes in a way that makes them look like cut sapphires. He's still wearing the shirt I let him borrow for painting; the shirt I forgot to ask him to give back before he left.

Well, It's a good thing he stayed.

As my eyes unintentionally venture lower, I can now see that my shirt may have been a little too small on him. It's lifting at his belly, just high enough for me to see the toned dips of his hips, and the beginning of a V shape.

As I glance up at him I can see that he's caught me staring again.

But this time, he stares back.

I quickly turn over to my back, face growing hot as I fix my eyes on the old peeling paint of the ceiling. I can feel his gaze still on me, burning my skin.

I clear my throat awkwardly.

"I mean....it's been years. There isn't..there isn't much to talk about." I say dryly, letting out a long breath. "Okay well, there is a lot to talk about but-" I bite my tongue, eyes stinging out of weariness. Theres a lot to talk about....but talking about it makes it real. I don't dwell on that thought, feeling uneasy and betrayed by my own mind.