Notebook [Book One]

Twenty-One

Stretching out in the darkness, Aiden groaned, immediately aware he was alone in his tiny bed.

He wasn't sure exactly what woke him, but when he touched the side of the bed where Nathan had previously slept, he was surprised to find it cold.

The pink-haired boy, dazed and bleary, blindly reached out for his phone, knocking over the medicine bottles as he patted the cabinet. When he finally found the device and flicked on the screen, the extremely early hour surprised him.

Nathan wasn't one for waking early, which Aiden had learned relatively quickly. He often lounged in bed for an hour in the morning after the younger boy got up.

It wasn't a bad thing. He got to watch Aiden saunter about the room and get himself ready for the day.

The pink-haired boy always took his time in the morning when the elder was present. He didn't want to pressure him into getting up if he didn't need to.

Slowly Aiden sat up, scrubbing his eyes, glancing around the room, expecting to see the white-haired boy sitting at the desk writing or returning from the bathroom. But the bedroom was utterly still, with no other signs of life.

Sucking his bottom lip under his teeth, the younger boy chewed on it slightly, wondering where the other boy had gone.

He couldn't help the anxious ripple that shot through him as he questioned his actions the previous night.

Had he frightened Nathan off by climbing over him as they kissed?

Was he too hasty, passionate, or forward when his tongue met the older boy's for the first time?

The memory alone stirred Aiden's insides as he took a deep breath. The whole thing had been incredible. Kissing the white-haired boy like that was a heavenly dream, one that he wanted to come true every night.

The honey-sweet kisses of affection and dedication were the perfect starting point. Each brush of their lips made Aiden feel more sure of himself. And when Nathan pressed that first, more demanding, feverish kiss against his mouth, it was impeccable.

It made Aiden's heart sing.

When he pulled away, the pair gasping for air, they were both grinning.

So maybe he hadn't frightened the older boy away? He looked pretty pleased with himself last night. So where was he at five o'clock in the morning?

It was then Aiden heard a soft, deep voice. He naturally acknowledged it to be his father's.

His father worked unusual hours, sometimes spending all night out of the house and other times spending all day at work.

It wasn't uncommon for the older man to be awake before sunrise or after sunset.

It was, however, strange to hear him talking to himself. He was usually quiet and stealthy, sometimes so quiet; Aiden didn't know he was home until he startled him.

Slowly, the pink-haired boy pulled back the covers, shivering in the biting cold air. He hadn't expected it to be so chilly.

The boy climbed out of bed, feeling a little disorientated by the early hour and hopping foot-to-foot to the wardrobe, trying to produce some heat as he went.

He opened the door and browsed, beaming when he saw one of his clothes hangers sticking out, an item of clothing removed.

Nathan.

The good thing about being of the same stature and build was that the pair could easily share clothes. When Nathan was injured and had nothing to wear, Aiden lent him some clothes, and they fit perfectly.