Pretty Boy

Chapter 11

I went back to the dorm after I drove off my anger, finding Adam waiting for me on my bed. I glared at him. "Get off."

He stood up. "We need to talk about you driving off."

"No we don't. I want to go to bed, leave me alone."

"Shuji-"

"Don't call me that." I sat down and kicked off my shoes. "Just call me Hachiro."

"Please listen to me-"

"No. I'm done listening to you, when have you ever actually sat down and listened to me?"

"Please just-"

"You did it on purpose, you knew I was watching you. You sprayed your cologne on my pillows. You left your choker in my pocket."

"Why are you freaking out like this?"

"I get that this is a game. I get that. But you're taking it a little too far."

"She's my best friend."

"Yeah." I shrugged and laid down, turning away from him. "She's pretty."

"You're pretty, Shuji. You shouldn't be jealous."

I sat up and faced him. "Is that what you think? I'm jealous? I'm more than just a pretty face, Adam, and that's the problem. I have seen through how you look and I like you for who you are. All you see when you look at me is what's on the outside and that's the issue here. You treat me like a toy. You're purposefully trying to hurt me and that's not what I agreed to."

"I can't let myself get hurt again. When you took me to the concert, I got too close to losing and I didn't know what to do."

"Just because you got hurt doesn't mean you have to make sure I do too."

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"An apology doesn't make me any less angry."

"What can I do to make it up to you?" He gently pulled my glasses off and set them on the ground beside my feet. "I know you're still a little drunk but....what can I do to make you feel better?"

"You want to make me feel better? Leave me alone and let me go to bed."

"Can I lay with you?" He asked hesitantly, probably a little upset that I was mad at him. "I know I went too far."

"If you promise you won't say anything, you can lay with me."

He smiled at that and laid down on my bed. I did the same but made sure I wasn't facing him. When he realized it, he huffed and leaned his head against my back.

"I didn't say you could touch me." I hissed at him.

"I'm sorry." He gently clutched onto the back of my sweaters, his voice soft and quiet. "And I'm not just saying it, I'm really, really, sorry."

I sighed and turned to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him to my chest. He flinched, eyes shooting open and face turning red as he looked up at me. "I'm not that mad anymore. So don't sound so sad."

"....You taste like warm tea." He mumbled into the brown fabric of my clothes and relaxed his body against me. "And you always smell like cinnamon and blown out apple scented candles. Like the library back in the UK."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You listen to every word I say and when you laugh, it's like you're the only person I'll ever know. Like you're the only thing I can see. Your fingers hurt when I hold my fingers between them but I do it anyway because your hands are always cold and I want to warm them up."

"Adam."

"It's not the money you spent. It's that you went through all the trouble to make sure I had fun. You're not just pretty on the outside, you're pretty on the inside. That's why I almost lost."

I stayed quiet for a minute, tightening my arm around him before I spoke. "You taste like you eat a lot of sweets."

He laughed into my chest. "I do! I like strawberry flavored things! Especially candy."

"What do you love more than anything?"

"My mom. What about you?"

"My sisters. All of them."

"I like that answer." I felt him smile. "It suits you."

"So does yours."

"...can you keep your arm around me? I want to sleep like this."

"Yeah."