Chaton de Maître

three

"So, how's school coming along?"

A simple question, but such a complicated answer. Mitch wants to say everything; the staring, Kirstie, classes, tutoring. Yet, simply answers with "Good."

"I was hoping it's good. What about the adjustment? Are you sticking with Kirstie still? Still staying hidden?"

Mitch's mother is very cynical, which is a trait Mitch picked up from her. But Mitch isn't lying. School is good, but it's hard keeping the secret of the secret boy and his own secret hidden. It's draining, in a way. But the secret boy keeps him on his feet, wondering and wishing.

It's sad that it's his highlight of his day.

God forbid that Kirstie or his mom should find out, because apparently not only does the school have secrets, but people are cruel and cold-blooded.

"Are you feeling up to tutoring today? You keep zoning out."

Mitch frowns now, because he should be helping Beau with tutoring instead of over-thinking this figment of his imagination. Young and dumb, he has more important things to worry about. Such as now, with Beau and chemistry equations.

Yet his thoughts can't be directed away from the secret boy. Who is he, and why does he always stare? I mean, if he wanted to stare, might as well take a picture. It lasts longer.

"I am okay. I just have been thinking about a lot of stuff at the moment. I am sorry."

"Mitch, you're okay. Just wanted to double check if everything's alright. We should get back to the lesson."

Again with that dumb reassuring smile, they get back to the lesson.

"You coming?"

And Beau's actually shocked that Mitch decides to stay this time, because Mitch always goes with him. But sitting in the same tutoring spot, Mitch spots the secret boy.

He's observing, too afraid to go up to him. The unknown makes him scared, but it's a type of scared that makes your adrenaline pump and butterflies fly in your stomach. Something about this boy is affecting him, and he's not quite sure what it is. And it isn't until he's sitting across from him, that he's taking in his features.

No words were spoken. Only eyes to speak the language. While staring at him, he's wide-eyed and curious, waiting for him to make the first move or say the first word. And when nothing is said or done, it isn't disappointing but almost just peaceful.

He's timid, intimated by his fixated study on him. He wants to look away, but his gaze was pulling him in and there was no way of getting out.

Almost like his eyes were the ocean, and for some reason he was more than willing to drown.

~~

sorry if it sounds like i'm trying to be ariana grande because clearly i'm not but i stan

i feel like this book is moving too fast and i wanna restart again but comment some feedback idk wtf i'm doing

luv u babes xx
-ari <3