I Miss You (kellic)

Props & Mayhem

"Vic?" I hear Kellin ask.

I pretend to be asleep and keep my eyes shut and my breathing steady.

I hear him walk over to or somewhat near the bed and sit down, a food wrapper crunching underneath him. I feel his warm breath on my cheek. Fuck, he's really close to my face. And in an instant I ruined it by my stupid fucking face turning red.

I sit up quickly, playing the "oh-my-I-am-so-startled" just waking up thing.

"What are you doing Kellin?" I ask dumbfoundedly, although the answer seemed pretty obvious.

His face fades into a bright pink color as well, "I-uh, wasn't doing anything. I mean, I wasn't watching you sleep. Oh, shit."

I raise an eyebrow at him, and couldn't help but chuckle at his adorableness, "Okay okay."

He pouts his bottom lip out, "Sorry I'm so fucking creepy."

"It's fine," I say brushing him off. It was a little creepy, but it didn't mean that I didn't like it.

He rolls his eyes, "Steve's asleep on the couch thank god."

Steve?

"Who's Steve?" I ask curiously.

"Uh, my uncle," he answers.

Oh, okay. That reminded me of something; the day that I was called into the principle's office to discuss the charges being pressed upon Kellin and the others. On the forms, his name was written under "Kellin Bostwick." I can't believe I'd never gotten around to ask him about.

"Hey, so um, on the papers to press charges about a month ago, uhm," I pause to look and him and he shifts uncomfortably on his messy floor, "Why'd your name say Bostwick instead of Quinn?"

His face looses a little bit of color, looking away from me, "It's my actual last name. I go by my Middle name because it reminds me of my parents. And they're gone, you know."

I nod softly, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, I'm over it," he says shrugging. But I could tell my the pain in his voice that he wasn't.

"Hug?" I ask him.

He looks up at me and nods slightly. I get down from his bed and awkwardly wrap my arms around him. He sighed and nestled his face into my neck.

"Sorry I'm so stupid," he says to me.

I pull out of the hug and look back at him, "You're not stupid. You're in PreCal as a sophomore."

"No, I mean about the whole being gay thing. And how I didn't stand up for you in front of Sam and the others at the Lakers game," he explains avoiding eye contact.

"Its fine Kellin," I say faintly. As much as I wanted to get all upset over it, it could't. I understand him, the feeling was all too familiar.

He looks down at my arms, "Can I see?"

"I haven't done it since-" my voice trailed off, trying to remember the last time I'd actually drawn blood.

He grabs my hand forcefully and pushes down my sleeve, staring down at my massacred skin.
He traces his thumb across the scars gently, "Does that hurt?"

I shake my head, "Not anymore, it's just kind of numb."

He sighs sadly, "Why did you do this?"

"I already told you, because I want to feel," I say simply.

He looks me in the eyes for a brief moment before looking back down at my arm.

"Is it anywhere else?" He asked.