Birch and Lawrence **OLD**

Interests & Snuggle Time

Much like the rest of the house, Birch's bedroom was nothing special. As a matter of fact, it was a lot similar to Lawrence's bedroom, but it did have a lot more things in it. Lawrence gazed in awe at the small bookshelf in the corner, which was thoroughly stocked with books. Birch found this unusual. "What? It's just a regular old bookshelf," he said. Lawrence looked at him with shimmery eyes. "I love readin' books," he told him. "I used to have a whole lotta 'em. But then my mama either burnt 'em or sold 'em or ripped 'em up."

Birch didn't know how to respond to that. "Uh, well I'm sorry to hear that." Lawrence looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he browsed through Birch's collection. "Moby Dick, the Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, I've never read any of these!" he gushed. He turned to Birch with big, pleading eyes. "You wouldn't mind if I borrowed a book or two, would you?"

How could Birch say no to that expression? "Help yourself," he replied. "As a matter of fact, you can keep 'em. I've read all of 'em." Lawrence was speechless. He just sat there looking at Birch with his mouth agape and his eyes like big blue pearls. After a moment, he sat up and gave him a bone-crushing hug. Birch smiled happily and returned the embrace.

Lawrence noticed something sort of jutting out from underneath Birch's bed. "Hey Birch, what's that?"  he asked, pointing to it. Birch looked at it for a brief moment. "Oh, nothin'," he said sheepishly. "Just my fiddle." He figured Lawrence was going to ridicule him for playing such a girly instrument. But to his surprise, he was quite interested. "You play the fiddle?" Lawrence asked, like a child who just learned something incredible about his idol. 

Maybe Lawrence will appreciate my talent, Birch thought. "Would you like to hear a song?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Alright," he said and pulled the violin out of its case. Lawrence was mystified by its shininess. "Can I touch it?" he asked.

"Uh, okay..."

Lawrence ran a fingertip along the wooden surface of the violin's head. It felt smooth to the touch. He liked that. Then Birch started to play his song, a simple yet beautiful song with a deep melancholy melody. He was careful to play every note perfectly. He couldn't mess up, not for Lawrence. When he finished, he saw tears running down Lawrence's cheeks. "D-did I make you cry?" he asked apologetically.

Lawrence gazed at him silently for a few moments, his blue eyes sparkling with tears. "That was beautiful," he whispered. "So, so beautiful."

Birch smiled proudly. He felt so special. "Would you like to hear more?"

"Nah, not right now," Lawrence replied, wiping away his tears. "I would most certainly love to hear you play again, but for now I just want to have some peace 'n quiet with you."

"Alright, we can do that," Birch replied as he put the violin back in its case and under his bed. "What would you like to do?"

Lawrence blushed shyly. "Maybe cuddle a 'lil bit?"

Birch nodded. He took of his shoes and got underneath his bed covers. "C'mon in," he said.

Lawrence smiled, thinking back to the night he fell asleep snuggled up next to his father. He took off his shoes and placed them next to Birch's, and climbed underneath the blanket. 

He nuzzled his face into Birch's chest, smelling him and enjoying his warmth. Birch held Lawrence close and played with his hair. "Birch," Lawrence asked. "what did that white girl want from you?"

Birch was silent. A dreaded, awful feeling surged through him as he remembered what Emma had done. He broke down crying. "Birch?" Lawrence said softly. 

"She did unspeakable things to me," he sobbed. "Horrible, filthy things."

"Like what?"

And so Birch told him, despite swearing to not tell anyone. And when he was done, Lawrence was enraged. "We'll get revenge on her for this," he said angrily. "Don't you worry."

"No, don't do that!" Birch sobbed. "She said that if I ever tell anyone, you'll die!" 

And then Lawrence remembered a quote from his father. Conroy Addams was a man of much inspiration.

It may seem appropriate to get revenge on someone who caused you grief, but actually the best thing to do is nothing at all. They'll eventually be haunted by the guilt of knowing they caused you your grief, and that'll be enough to teach them a lesson.

With that, Lawrence said nothing and laid back down in Birch's embrace. "Don't worry, Birch," he whispered. "It'll all be okay."