The Sin of Falling (ONC 2024) (BxB)

Ten (Fedya)

After the date at the coffee shop, we go back to my place.

     Stasya's off at school, so we're alone.

     I gently take Grant's hand, leading him through the house, down the hallway, and into my bedroom.

     We sit down together on my bed.

      “Fedya?” Grant begins to mumble to me.

      I feel my face heat up just the slightest bit. (The pink in my cheeks is barely noticeable.) “Yeah?” I reply to him.

     Grant’s silent for a moment as if he's figuring out whether or not it would be okay for him to do something. Finally, he reaches a hand slightly out towards me—-his fingers bend into a very loose fist.

     I see Grant swallow. Must've had some sort of lump in his throat, I think to myself. Whatever he wants to say or do, he's nervous about it. Poor guy.

    Grant’s fingers relax a little, moving just the smallest bit out of the fist-like formation he has. He leans a little closer to me as I can feel my heart start to race with anticipation of what he might do next. “You uh…” He pauses as the words seem to catch in his throat. He seems to inhale for a moment, trying to push the rest of the sentence out for me to properly hear. “...You have a… eyelash… on uh… your face.”

     Oh… My mind begins, disappointed—-before willing my heart to start to relax into a normal rhythm once more. It's just a damn eyelash… Calm down, Fedya. I exhale heavily. “Oh, I do?” I finally get out, sheepishly, despite my noisy thoughts.

     Grant nods, awkwardly and says, “Yeah… You do… Just… r-right below the bottom eyelid…” He wets his lips, seemingly nervous—-maybe even as nervous as me.

     “Oh, um… Thanks for pointing it out to me,” I awkwardly reply back. Great, so now, I need to go find a mirror and quickly get this thing off my face, my mind curses. It's probably making me look like a complete and utter imbecile and that's the last thing I need to do. I'm making a damn fool of myself in front of Grant. The longer this stays on my face, the less he'll like me. He'll think I'm an idiot.

     I know I'm overthinking, but I can't help it. This is just how I am.

    Anytime something happens to or around me, I'm one-hundred percent convinced it's my fault and I'm a terrible person. So, no matter how little and insignificant the issue might be, I beat myself up over it. I beat myself over missed jokes I don't understand… I beat myself up when I stumble over my words.

     And I definitely will beat myself up over having a stray eyelash on my face during a date. (I mean, what the hell was I thinking?)

      Calm down, my mind tries to reassure me (for once). It's not your fault. This was out of your control. I mean, how would you even know this would happen? It's not the end of the world, Fedya.

      I'm about to say “easy for you to say” to my own mind, but I catch myself before I can get the first full letter out—-so, instead, it sounds like a little grumble under my breath. It's near inaudible and not able to be deciphered by Grant.

    Grant’s silent for a little moment before he decides to lean forward just the slightest bit. “I uh… Could get it off for you.”

     I push my frenzied, freaked out thoughts out of my mind for a second. I flash him a soft, appreciative grin. “If you could… That would be nice.” I refrain from hitting myself in the temple for that response I gave him.

     Grant’s expression softens more as he leans closer to me.

     I feel my heart rate increase once more. Come on, Fedya… Stay calm. You've got this.

     Grant brushes his index finger and thumb against my face, picking up the rogue eyelash. His thumb brushes down against my cheek, tenderly, making my heart stop for a moment.

    Gods, I want him to kiss me so badly.

    Grant leans back a little, away from me.

     Silence falls among us and I look down, noticing how my face feels like it's on fire. Gods, I can't even imagine how red I must be, I begin to internally reflect to myself. I must look like a tomato or something to Grant… I exhale softly.

     My fingers find themselves resting against my pants leg. As I always do when I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by my emotions, I let the tip of my index finger trace along the hem line from mid thigh to the knee.

     Grant's been quiet for a little bit now, my mind notes, nervously. I have to purposely stop myself from biting my lip. Did I do something wrong?, I question almost immediately after my previous thought.

     I feel my muscles slightly tense. Oh, gods… He's disappointed in you. You did something. You really did. My breath hitches.

     I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up, my mind starts to ramble, repeatedly.

     Then, my mind shifts in the constant (and what feels like never ending) mantra of: he hates me. He hates me. He fucking hates me now.

     Grant looks to the ground for a moment.

     I see him take a deep breath out of the corner of my eye before he raises his head again.

     Grant leans forward slightly—-blush begins to pour into his own face, making me only blush more.

      Is it even okay to blush this much? This is concerning, I start to think to myself. …This is it, isn't it? Real love. Desire. I wonder if he's this awkward in bed…

    Grant exhales, softly. “Hey, uh… Mind if I ask you something?”

     I nod. “Go ahead. I don't mind.” I patiently wait to see what he'll say.

     Grant blushes deeper. “Do you mind if I do something?”

     I swear if I have another eyelash on my face… “Go ahead.”

     Grant hesitates a little, inching closer. Finally, he speeds up what he's doing just a bit before cupping the sides of my face and kissing me.