ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ was discovered at fourteen years old, being praised as a musical prodigy by the media ever since. His fame had only increased until now. At nineteen old, he's the most remarkable musician of his age, and he's only getting started. At...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ
"Eyes on the road, Oakley," Nolan said, forcefully pushing my head toward the front of the car, and I laughed.
Things have been going perfectly for me lately.
"What's so funny?" he asked. I could tell he was annoyed, but he didn't want to show it.
"Sorry. I just like you so much," I said. I stopped at a red light, and took the moment of freedom to force his face toward me so I could kiss him. It was supposed to be a quick peck, but I missed him so much that I continued. Nolan didn't kiss me back though. He pushed my face away from him, and now the red light had turned green. I'd be lying if I said that didn't feel like a dagger straight through my chest.
"What's wrong? You've been acting off," he said. "Someone could've seen that and we'd be outed."
"Would that be so horrible?" I asked. "Fuck, I really want to prove to the world that you're mine, and no one else's."
I didn't think my words though. They just came out as I thought them.
"Are you being for real?" he asked. I felt his beautiful green eyes stare at the side of my head. He did that a lot lately, the staring.
"Do you think I'm attractive?" I asked him. I thought he was. He was beautiful in the way a piece of art was. He could've been a model for a renaissance painting, or an Ancient Greek statue, with his chiseled facial features and deep-set eyes with a certain wisdom to them. I loved the way his nose wiggled as he spoke—especially as he laughed—and I loved the way his soft, dirty blonde hair felt as I ran my fingers through it, and I loved the way it brought out the green in his eyes. He was looking exactly the way a movie star was supposed to: dreamy and unreal, yet very much here.
"Yes," was all he said. He'd told me I was beautiful. He couldn't stop saying it when he was drunk stumbling up my best friend's stairs. Yet now that he was sober, it was like he was avoiding having to call me any of that. I should've known it was plain drunk stupidity. "Now answer my question."
"Of course I'm being for real," I said with a huff. I was not ashamed of him.
"I want to, someday," he said. Someday. He wasn't lying, because he couldn't do that to save his life. "But I'm not ready."
I knew that. I also knew that it was too early to share. When I went public with my first girlfriend a few years back, we got a lot of questions about things even we weren't comfortable with yet. It's only been a month or two since Nolan and I started going out, even less since I could call him my boyfriend. Even though Nolan and I started out as friends, now was too early.
But god did I wish that things were different. I wanted us to get through this stage of liking and caring, straight to the loving. I wanted to fall in love with him, whatever that meant.
