Lessons On Kissing Guys (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 18

It's been one week since the incident. No, I haven't spoken to Blair. Not once. I haven't spoken to anyone about it, although Phil and (surprisingly) Rian have both been sending worried glances my way. At one point I walked in on them whispering about something. It was me, I bet. I know this because as soon as I walked in, they stopped. It's one of the most obvious things to do in that sort of situation, but they did. 

I walk into the store, having work today. My clothes haven't changed all since last Thursday, so I'm pretty sure they need a good wash. Plus, I haven't showered. I've had enough money for some food though. Enough to get me by.

"Lucas, let me talk to you a second." Phil beckons me over, and since he's basically my boss, I don't try to ignore him. I still don't feel like talking though. I hope he's just giving me another task to keep me occupied. This job has been the only thing keeping me alive this past week.

It may sound melodramatic (it does in my head), but the whole world just seems grey now. It's like Blair was the colour that found its way into my life for four weeks and then left. And I guess that sometimes that happens - you know, you find love and it leaves before you have a chance to get well acquainted. 

Now that love has gone, it's like everywhere I go, I can feel the grey seeping into my skin and wrapping itself around my bones. I hate it. There's no way I'd want to live with this sinking feeling inside me forever. And the saddest part is probably that I want to talk to Blair about it. But how can I talk to him about it when he's the one who caused it?

Fuck. Just fuck. Fuck it all. Love, the whole thing. I can't even believe the way I sound. I mean, four weeks. That was all it took for me to fall completely in love with a guy I met at a party one night. Fuck. One week without him to find myself falling completely apart.

"Lucas, snap out of it." Phil waves a hand directly in front of my eyes. "You're going to go upstairs and have a damn shower. I will lend you some clothes and put yours in the wash. Then I'll make you some lunch and I'm going to wait until you open your mouth and tell me what's going on." In the past week and a half of working here, I haven't seen Phil so direct and... strict before. I don't think I like it.

"It-"

"No. Now. I will drag you up the damn stairs myself if I have to."

"What about-"

"I'll pay you. I'll pay you double a normal days work if I have to. Just get upstairs."

I give up. Without arguing any further, I follow Phil up the stairs, noticing a hint of a smug grin threatening to take over his lips. Bastard. Although if he is a bastard, he's a bastard with a good point and a kind heart that means I can't hate him. Fuck.

Phil directs me to the shower, before shouting at Rian to get his ass up and look after the store. Either I've really pissed Phil off, or he's joking around a little. I hope it's the latter.

In the bathroom, there's a set of clean clothes waiting, alongside two clean towels. It almost feels like a hotel to me, with everything neatly laid out. I open one of the cupboards, feeling nosy. Maybe it's not quite a hotel.

I shower as quickly as possible, not wanting to get too comfortable with my thoughts. Although, in the short time that I do take showering, I end up thinking. A lot. 

I think about Blair. That's all. But Blair comes along with frustration, love, pain, anger, fondness, and happiness, all intermingled. I didn't know it was possible to feel so much all at once, but it's like my emotional spectrum is suddenly so wide and everything crashes down on me, so heavily, in the space of a five minute shower.

Scrubbing myself clean, I think about the last time Blair kissed me. Over a week ago now. Damn it. Fucking damn it, I miss him. 

I almost collapse to the bottom of the bath tub, before realising how pathetic I'm being. I need to hold myself together, find a house or somewhere to stay till I can get my head together. I curl my fist into a ball, driving it into the wall, a loud thump echoing across the tiled walls.