Forbidden Love

Chapter 10: Trust in Cinnamonroll

Aiden's POV:

Let's play a game.

It's called, why can't I confess my undying love to someone I've known for my entire life?

Is it a) My crippling fear of rejection, b) The fear that they'll leave me because they feel uncomfortable and I will never see them again and that would absolutely crush my soul, or c) I really suck at being romantic and corny and all that?

If you guessed all of them, you would be correct.

So here I am, in a random corner of Isabella's room, trying to find some ideas in her blue sparkly Cinnamonroll notebook.

So far, I have:

1. Nothing

2. Nothing

3. Leave them a letter confessing all my raw feelings and pouring out my heart and soul and then sail away to a faraway land where they cannot reach me so I wouldn't have to bear the pain of rejection.

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. After literally falling to my knees and begging Isabella for advice and spending almost $50 dollars worth of turtle chips for her, I should have some ideas, right?

Nah.

I sighed, staring at the giant Cinnamonroll plushie she had on her bed. Isabella would probably skin my alive and roast my body is I dared to touch anything else in her room, let alone her favorite plushie.

Ah, fuck it. She hated me anyway. What's one more to the list of things that I did wrong anyway?

I flung myself onto her bed, cuddling up with the plushie. What she can't see can't hurt her. 

I sighed, staring into the dark eyes of the plushie. Barely a thought behind those eyes, really. Cinnamonroll didn't speak (of course he didn't, he was a plushie and plushies can't speak) but I felt more comfortable around him than anyone else before.

Except for Matteo.

Matteo is my sunshine, the reason why I am still breathing, the warm, soft glow in this horrifying, pressing darkness my head was.

I remember, clear as day, when it all started.

I was 13, complaining to Isabella about another failed relationship, who was barely listening and barely cared, too busy picking flowers and frolicking through the grass like a princess.

"Ugh, all the girls are the same. Why can't I just find someone like Matteo?" I remember grumbling about. I didn't expect Isabella to care. After all, she had deemed me her mortal enemy, but she was the only person I could complain to. I didn't have any friends aside from Matteo, and I never really wanted to talk to Matteo about my dating life for some reason. She was like my unpaid therapist expect she did nothing to improve my mental health.

The next few words that left her mouth were the words that flipped my life upside down and inside out.

She snorted, throwing a pebble at me. "If all girls are the same, why not just date Matteo?" 

I stopped in my tracks.

Now that I think about it, she probably was the first one to suspect anything. Then again, it wasn't really hidden. I talked about him all the time. Matteo was just kind of oblivious.

That night, I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Thinking.

Then it hit me.

Shit.

Was I gay?

And that wraps up my coming out story ladies and gentlemen, thank you thank you, please leave now.

I looked at Cinnamonroll. "Well, what do you think?"

"..."

"...Yeah, true. You're kinda right."

I sat up, almost throwing Cinnamonroll off the bed. The perfect idea hit me. The wisdom of Cinnamonroll was not a myth after all.

I picked up Isabella's sparkly My Melody mechanical pencil and began writing.