For Me, For You, For Us(Completed)

Light

Phil's POV
Troye is coming over tonight.
I'm excited to talk to him. It feel like we haven't talked in forever, even though it's only been two days.
I finish organizing my room, or more appropriately known as shoving everything under my bed to give the illusion of organization.
I jerk back when I feel paper cut into my finger, damn that stings, I pull back one of my many Pokemon shirts to reveal my sketchbook. I pause, taking it in, trying to ignore a feeling of sadness stirring in my gut as I slowly reach a trembling hand down to trace the cover.
It's feels familiar yet foreign at the same time.
Slowly I peel back the first page and start to go through my drawings from this first year.

I don't even notice when Troye walks through the door, I'm too engrossed into my exploration of myself. I jump slightly, and my heart starts to pound when I here the door close and slam my sketchbook closed. He walks up to me slowly, seeming to understand that I need a minute. He doesn't ask me what I was doing, he seems to know that it would not be appreciated.
I set my sketchbook down on the floor, unsure of how to continue.
"Do you wanna start", he asks softly. I nod, unsure of my voice.
"Okay, so I was looking up some different authors last night and I found a few which I would like to do because...", he goes on, giving me the out I needed.

~~~

I double over laughing at something Troye said, after a couple of hours, Troye and I finally figured out what we wanted to do for the project and we already have a pretty good start on the power point.
I clench my stomach as it starts to hurt from laughing to hard, Troye has been amazing, not only had he made me forget about things I would rather not remember, he made me feel happy, which is more than I can say for anyone else these past few months.
I glance over at him, finally able to hold in my laughter. I watch as he throws his head back in laughter, curls bouncing, eyes crinkling in the corners, he smiles at me, nothing in his expression is guarded or even dark, all he is is light.
Before I can tell myself not to, I reach forward, grabbing his head in my hands and pulling his face up to mine, and meeting our lips in the middle. He freezes for a second, caught off guard, but then slowly starts kissing me back.
The kiss is sweet, unhurried, affectionate.
He pulls back, panting a little, curls in disarray, as he looks up at me. I smile before reaching down and pulling his face up to mine again.