Lessons On Kissing Guys (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 19

*A/N: lol here's how to be a bad writer in one forced chapter :) sorry for the shortness of it and for the wait*

I wake up with my head attached to a table. Well, not attached, but leaning against. I don't remember falling asleep, but I guess I must've half way through- I pick up the piece of paper. There are scribbles all over it, but it's readable. The whole page is filled. I read over it. 

Most of it's about how much I love him. It makes me sad, knowing that all I could think to write about was him. He's my world now, and I can't even speak to him. Isn't that fucked up?

"Just woke up?" I'm surprised, honestly, to see Rian sitting across from me at the table. Except, he doesn't look particularly tired, unlike myself. 

"Yeah. Uhm, what time is it?" 

"Nine in the morning. We found you asleep like that yesterday when we got back from a meal out at about... ten maybe." He shrugs, not caring for exact timings much. Not that I really care, although it's good to have a rough idea of how things went yesterday.

"I have no recollection of anything five last night."

He nods once. "What've you been writing?" He sounds vaguely interested, which takes me aback a little.

"I don't really know, I was half asleep when I wrote this I bet. I don't remember... feeling so much." I almost shudder at the word 'feeling', as if it's a bad thing to let myself feel emotions. I don't know, sometimes it does seem to be a bad thing. I guess it's just easier to shut it off, right? It's easier to deal with it later.

 "Well, I guess that's good. You felt, and now you don't have to remember it. Isn't that what you wanted?"

I nod, "Yeah, I guess." But I guess a part of me isn't so sure. Maybe it's better to let yourself feel in doses, instead of bottling it all up. It's too late for that though, and I'm already back to brushing it off within the next few minutes.

Pushing myself up off of the chair, I shrug into my newly-cleaned jacket; "I'm gonna go-"

"For a walk, I hope. Phil's forbidden you from working today. Tomorrow you can be back on track." Rian's words shock me a little, since he doesn't sound against the idea of me giving myself a break. However, when I look at him, he's indifferent, a newspaper in hand.

"Yeah." I turn towards the door. "Oh, and thanks for the clothes." I continue out the door and down to the shop, not turning back to wait for an answer or anything.

On my way out of the shop, I give a fleeting wave to Phil, not saying anything as I walk outside. The shop looks quite busy today (obviously with Christmas getting slightly closer, things have been gradually getting busier), and it makes me wonder if I should stay and work for a bit. But then I remember Rian's words, so I continue down the road.

 I'm not sure where I'm going, and honestly, almost every bone in my body is aching so much that I wish I could go back to Blair, hug him, and have everything be better. Quite frankly, I can hardly remember my reason for not doing so. And then it clicks again in my mind. Ah yes, we got into a stupid fight that seems to have determined our future together (or lack thereof). It's times like this, when I'm feeling lost and close to being delirious, that I curse my thoughts and my words and everything about myself. I fucked up. And I know that this is about the seventeen thousandth time I've reminded myself of this, but it's all I can seem to think. I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up. But... so did he. I guess. I guess we both did. And it royally sucks.

I end up walking for god knows how long before I find myself outside a cafe. Taking the fiver out of my pocket, I walk inside and order a hot chocolate, feeling the coldness of the season starting to take it's toll on me. Considering that I won't be getting my warmth from Blair any time soon, I might as well turn to hot chocolate to keep me sane for the time being.

Sitting in the cafe, on the sofa by the window, with a hot chocolate in hand, I watch everyone around me. It reminds me of when I was a kid and I used to be so entertained by watching families and couples and even the occasional lone passerby. Ever since I was quite young, I would escape from the house in the middle of the day and just wander until I found a shop or a cafe to sit in with the small amount of change I had hidden beneath my bed. I would get a drink and then sit myself far away from everyone and watch. I saw a lot of strange things. I saw couples fighting (and attempting to hide it), strangers walking their pets, families bantering. It was something to get me through the days.

It seems that old habits really do die hard, as I end up spending the next few hours just watching and listening to the lives of everyone around me. 

As the cafe begins to close up, I finally stand, stretching quickly before deciding it's probably time to make my way back to the shop. It's only five in the afternoon, but the shop will be closing soon enough and it's already starting to get dark. 

Walking back to the shop, something inside of me feels like it's about to burst with anticipation. I would put it down to the fact that I'm missing Blair, because I am - a lot. I miss him so goddamn much that I feel like I can't breathe at night sometimes. But then again, he manages to take my breath away when I am around him, so it's not all too different.

In all honesty, I just have this strange feeling that something is about to happen. I don't know why I'm getting this feeling, but it's like I'm anticipating something huge. And I don't have a clue whether it will be good or bad. I mean, the only good thing that could happen to me right now would be for Blair to walk through the shop door and hug me so tightly that I can't breathe (again).

I think I'd be hoping for far too much if I were to hope for that. I still hope for it. I can't help it.

When I make my way into the shop, things are just starting to close up. Phil is helping the last customer that I can see in the shop as I walk passed to make my way upstairs. A hand on my shoulder stops me, and I turn around to see him holding me back.

Phil has that look in his eyes that tells me I'm not going to be fond of whatever it is he's about to tell me. It results in me subtly holding my breath until he finally speaks; "Lucas, someone's here to see you."