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day forty (part 2)

You were glass under my hands, flower pedals blowing in the wind. I wanted to pick you and box you up for safe keeping, but I knew I couldn't do that so I set you free, and it turned out to something completely unimaginable.
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T R O Y E

4-19-15

I turn on my dance playlist, ready to warm up before Connor gets here. If I'm honest, I'm super nervous for him to be at my house. What if it's not as nice as his and he makes fun of me? But then I remember that I don't care what he thinks and I feel better. But then I think about why he would even want to come over to practice a dance he doesn't even want to do in the first place? What if he's setting me up for an elaborate prank with his football gang? As you can tell I'm really anxious, and have puked more than twice since I've gotten home. Nothing new though.

Knock knock knock

I let out a deep breathe and head to the door, throwing on the biggest fake smile I can muster before opening it. My invalid smile disappears when I see him.

The red marks from this morning have gotten worse, almost like some kind of rash that's making bad bruises worse. There's no way he got that during football practice, practice that he should probably be at right now.

"Connor." I say in a monotone voice. His expression stays blank, as blank as mine always is.

"Troye." I just stare at him, mainly his eyes, to keep from letting them travel over all the marks on his body. "Are you going to let me in?" I move out of his way swiftly and he walks in, observing his surroundings.

"Soo," I start once things have gotten a tad bit awkward.

"Nice place." He responds and I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. I mentally scold myself for caring.

"Thanks. Shall we get to it?" He nods and I lead him into the dean where my music is already blaring. I turn it off. "Okay, for now we're going to do it with just counts."

"Counts? What are those?" I just roll my eyes and drag him to the middle of the room.

"I'll show you. Start." And so he does. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight," I count and I keep repeating the familiar faze until he's on the floor. I pull him up and he walks towards me, only when he leans down he doesn't do it so gently. He forehead slams into mine and both of us pull away groaning.

"Fuck!" I screech, grabbing my head in pain.

"Shit I'm sorry!" He says, grabbing his own. Then I notice how much more red his forehead has gotten. I want to know, it feels like I almost need to, he his my partner after all. And I mean, we have been getting along more lately and I hate to say it but if something were to happen to the boy I might even feel something.

"It's alright," I say and I brace myself to invade his privacy. "Connor?" He's rubbing circles on his head when he looks up.

"Yes?" I take a deep breathe.

"Where did you get those marks? I already asked once today, please just tell me." He starts at me straight in the eye, frozen in place.

"I don't want to talk about it." I approach him gently, noticing the way he flinches when I raise my hand. I push his away and rest my hand on his forehead. He sighs and leans against me gently. He's freezing, but his bodies on fire. The blotches around him look like frost bite and the bruises don't look like accidents. All I want in this moment is to engulf him in a big hug, which surprises me because I'm not usually an affectionate person. Being aromantic and overly cynical about everything I don't expect this out of me.

"Oh Connor," I say sadly and he doesn't respond. Instead he pulls away, looking up at me with watery eyes.

"Alright, let's try this again." I nod sadly, I mean why would he accept my comfort? He hates me and as far as he knows I hate him. We go throw the steps again up until he rests his head against mine.