The look behind those tired eyes

Chalter twenty eight - Hound?

Rookie Chandler

I kissed him. I am kissing him. And he's kissing me back.

I don't know why I kissed him, but it was no doubt that I like him. I've checked him out a couple times and I didn't kiss him just for the fun of it. I was openly gay (to myself) so it wasn't like I was using him for experimenting or anything.

Does he think I kissed him for experimenting?

His lips were slightly chapped and he was definitely eager for this moment—he was deepening the kiss as much as he could—and I loved it.

This is the boy I have fallen in love with, huh?

His hands found my shirt, and he gripped onto it like it was the last thing he'll ever touch. He was moving against my lips like it was the missing piece to his puzzle. He was trying to pull me in closer—even though it was impossible.

I was doing the same thing; mimicking his every move.

In this moment, he was mine. Nothing stopping us—especially if Bruce came in the room, which we wouldn't even know, since we were too busy making out. He silenced everything:

My head.

My dark waves of emptiness.

The voices.

My insecurities.

And my world.

All I could do was think I was doing the same.

Will Vinny

It was like being on fire, the kiss. I needed this—I needed him. No matter what.

The kiss was like a lighter igniting a tiny flame in my heart.

I didn't know it was supposed to feel like this.

Rookie Chandler

God, it was everything.

Powerful.
Magical.
Beautiful.
Outstanding.
Magnificent.
Breathtaking.

Loving.

Will Vinny

In this moment—kissing and being with Rookie—I knew it was time I had told him the truth. The real truth, like he wanted. To me, it was now or never.

Now or never that Rookie could make up his mind about me. Those eyes having the ability to search mine and find no lies, if he wanted to search for it. His hand being in mine for the rest of eternity. Rookie Chandler becoming my boyfriend.

It was now or never that I told him, or I wouldn't get any of those possibilities. They would turn to dust instead.

And I didn't want there to be no possibilities.

So...Now or never, Vincent Williams.

I pull away, breathless from the heated make-out session. He's breathless, too. We're both panting as we let time control our breathing again. When it finally does, I look him straight into his eyes before pulling him back close to me. His eyes are scanning my face, filled with many emotions.

"Rooks...," I start. Here goes nothing. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember anything you told me during your episodes?" I ask him. I'm a bit worried about his answer, but I know I'll miss out on everything I hope for if I don't ask him, and tell him.

"N-no...I-I don't. I'm sorry about what I did say—or do—though. I don't remember it at all. I just hope I didn't fuck anything up between us—whether it be during my episode or by kissing you," He admits. That just broke my heart more but I continue,

"Oh, that's okay. I was, uh, planning on explaining everything to you anyway. In your episode you were telling me how I'm not my true self around you and how you weren't sure if you could trust me. Well, truth is, my name isn't actually Will Vinny—I'm sure you might've already figured out by now.

"Look, Rooks. I was a bad kid. You and everyone else around this shithole knows me as a criminal and a local-cliche bad boy. I made some terrible mistakes and was involved with terrible people, and none of them were even worth the time I had given them. I hope no one has to go through what I did.

"When I was ten, my mom decided to become an alcoholic. She abandoned Stella, Adam and I to go fuck around with some rich and bougie guy, so I had to take care of all of us, on my own, in that shitty house. It's never taken cared of the way it should be, it's always had renovations that would end up having me destroy, the kids were barely fed properly—all because I was a kid taking care of two younger ones. I didn't know what to do with myself. At all.

"For a while I had help from my sister. She wasn't too good herself, at all. It wasn't that she wouldn't help, it was she couldn't. She lost all of her motivation—she couldn't move at all—leaving her to let herself sink in her sorrow in that bed of hers. She never spoke to anyone, and if she did it was by lashing out. She spoke through anger. Eventually, it'll pass and she would be all happy and energetic—helping me out and taking care of the kids while mom was away. It went on for years.

"One day...I woke up—thankfully before my siblings—and decided to make breakfast for all of us. Especially her since she's been such a big help. I made this big ass five course meal—shit, it was the greatest meal I had ever made! When I was done making it, I went into Stella's room first to see if she was awake. She wasn't. I went into Adam's room, he was just waking up, so I let him wake up a bit more. He didn't like eating right away after waking up. Then, my final destination, which was my sister, Zalorie's room.

"I knocked, no answer. I knocked again and still no answer. Then I had, like, a sudden bad feeling erupt in my gut; so I walked in. And...well...there she was. Just...hanging there. From her ceiling fan. Somehow, it wasn't processing that's what actually happened.
I stood there with my jaw hung open and everything didn't feel real. It was like I was seeing a ghost, not a lifeless body. My sister's lifeless body. She suddenly was a ghost. I called Nick, not knowing what to do. He came over and made sure Stella and Adam weren't going to witness what I just did. If it weren't for him...I wouldn't know what to do."

I couldn't finish without breaking down. He was looking at me with sympathy and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close into his embrace. His fingers found themselves in my hair. He was crying, too—joining me on my break down.

All I had left to tell him about was the Hounds.