Call Me Romantic (BxB) [BEING REWRITEN]

Chapter 27

{ꔫ NASH ꔫ }

One thing that sucks when Nash is a junior is that he has to start worrying about college. With art, Nash needs to throw together a portfolio. He can't concentrate at home because he has been stuck in it for weeks now and there's not much motivation in places he's caged himself to.

The small town library is the next best thing. It's quiet and calming with bookshelves surrounding a long table. No boys, no bullies, no family or friends, and no lingering thoughts. Just windows of the shops outside and the soft music in his headphones.

He takes out the canvas, a complex painting of a woman lying by a small river, her hand and hair dipping into the water feeling like fish below. It's easy to think of art ideas, but it's even easier to take a deep dive into the story behind them. 

Nash imagines this woman as a mother, though all her children never made it past her womb into their little world. A tired woman, who wants to give life but she finds herself unable to. So she fills her days by the side of different lives. 

Watching how the fishes interact. their world is so small in that river, their lives so small compared to the biosphere. Yet to that woman, it means something. It means there might just be hope after all.

If these fishes can live and thrive in a small river then she can live and thrive in her small town. in the world, even. All of those are just dreams though, dreams that may never come true.

Nash finished painting her hand with different shades of pink and yellow fading to a light blue as her hand sways in the water. He leans away, staring at the story before him, a fake life he created. 

He always felt like when he attaches a story to something he can be more passionate about it. Give it more life behind whatever he's making. add details he wouldn't have before if he hadn't thought of that story. It might be random, but it helps. He likes to get lost in stories that may be similar to others. 

it lets him let go of his own life for a bit. Though the memories and emotions all come back to him shortly after he's done. 

He hears the chair next to him squeaking against the floor and when he lifts his eyes he sees Sam looking down at him. In deathly silence, Sam sits down and places a book on the table away from Nash's art supply. He has on a hoodie and shorts despite the freezing weather. 

Nash quickly looks away, starting at his painting. "I forgot you read." is the first thing that comes out of Nash's mouth. No, what are you doing here or are you stalking me? Sam stays silent though by the way is staring at the table, he has something to say, finally.

"Nash, can we talk?" Sam mumbles, his head turning to Nash, giving him a full view of his tired eyes and messy brown curls. It looks like he rolled out of bed and ran here. 

Nash shakes his head, "First, How did you find me?"

"Val told me."

'Of course." Nash mumbles a bit annoyed but also grateful. She's trying to help, but today was supposed to be a no-boy day. 

Sam faces Nash more with a serious glint in his eyes, "Listen, I'm sorry for being a jerk and shutting down when you confessed to me. I should've just replied. I was just..." There is a long pause and Nash keeps his eyes on his painting too scared to look up and meet Sam's eyes. Nash feels his hands shaking due to everything going wrong recently.

Sam sighs, "I like you too, believe me, you are the only one who makes me feel like myself. I'm just struggling with my dad and friends. Not everyone is accepting and it's hard to come out when I know half the people won't support me and leave. It's also hard to, you know, accept myself."

Sam leans closer. Nash swears he is about to explode with the amount of tension in this library. 

"I know," Nash whispers, he knows how it feels to be shamed and shut out.

Sam continues, "But yesterday when my friends, Nicholas and Quin, made those insults I realized I would rather be with you than be with the wrong kind of people. You are beautiful. A different kind of beauty no one else holds. It's you, Nash, you are not scared to be you. to be imperfect. I love that." Sam reaches over and takes Nash's hand.

Sam's hands are cold. Tilting his head so he can look at Nash's face, Nash finally blinks and his eyes shift to him, "So, you aren't bored with me? Or, disgusted…"

"Bored and disgusted?" a small chuckle erupts from Sam before he tilts his head down to the carpet, "You make me feel the furthest thing from bored or disgusted. You make me open my eyes and when I do, I see you. That's the best thing I could ever ask for. For you, and your love." Sam leans closer, so close to just kiss. Nash can't imagine how hard this is, to admit all of this but his cheeks burn up, finally turns to Sam they are only inches away. "You're going to have to prove that. Your words are sweet but I like action,” Nash replies and crosses his arms. Sam's lips spread into a smirk and when he puts his hand on Nash's thigh, he presses his lips against his gently. 

Nash feels like he is on cloud 9. The kiss is tender, and sweet, turning passionate. All the built-up frustration and time wasted in this one kiss. 

This is what he needed, a talk, and then just some love. After all of Nash's overthinking, he never considered that Sam was just trying to figure things out. He wasn't always the problem, it takes time. But Sam didn't say anything about it so it was so painful.

Sam pulls away but stays close enough for Nash to wrap his arms around him. "I like your hair by the way," he comments, changing the topic from what just happened and lifting his eyes to Nash's deep purple hair.

"Oh, thanks." all of a sudden it all hits him. He just kissed Sam.

Sam Carter.

His crush since 6th grade and one of those jerky jocks. If he went back and told his younger self he would do this,  he wouldn't believe it. Sam isn't gay, but.. he is and he isn't disgusted at the thought of him being molded differently from cisgender guys. 

Just because someone plays a sport, is loud, and a bit dumb doesn't mean they are not gay. Love is fluid, Nash has to admit to himself he stereotyped Sam just like other guys would stereotype Nash.  

"Are you okay?" Sam's voice makes Nash aware again. He nods. 

"It's just... so surreal. I thought you weren't gay." 

"Yeah, everyone thought that. Even me."

There was a thick silence after with them just staring at each other letting this moment settle in.

Nash cuts the silence, "Sam?" 

"Yes?"

"Will you go on a date with me?"

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