Blue House | Tronnor

Connor Pov, Chapter 19

"I don't," I said, angry at Troye.

Angry because his blue eyes were startlingly vibrant and distracting. Angry because his perfect brown curls were falling over his forehead in a mess, and it was also very distracting. Angry because his brow was creased in worry, and he was giving me breathing issues from just being around him. Angry because he thought that I mattered, when I clearly didn't. Angry because I was so sick and tired of all these people being happy, while I clearly wasn't. Angry because nobody noticed. Angry because he cared, and I didn't want to hurt him.

So I tried to push him away. The farther away from me he was, the less impact it would have on him when I exploded.

But pushing him away was hard when all he did was pull me close.

His hands were back, laced into my hair and rubbing the back of my neck. He pulled my head into his chest, his pale pink lips on my temple, kissing my skin softly. My breathing was ragged, and another tear slipped out of my forest green eyes. His lips moved to my cheek, kissing away the tears from under my eyes.

It's exactly what I did to him long ago.

He moved his lips to my collarbone, and then up my neck and onto my jawline. I was barely moving by the time he finally planted a kiss on my lips, but I pulled him closer to me and didn't let him go. The voice in my head tried to butt in, but surprisingly, I fought back.

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care.

My heart beat strong and fast, confident and sure.

It goes like this: I fall, I break, and I heal.

He pulled away, both of us gasping for air, and whispered, "I can help you heal. I'm not going to leave you, Connah. I promise." 

I made a noise halfway between a moan and a sigh.

I buried my head into his chest, blushing furiously, but also feeling fractured. "You're too good for me. I don't deser-" I broke off as he kissed me again, pushing me down so he was on top of me, his hands on either side of my head. My hands clasped behind his neck, and he pulled away again, this time only barely moving away. Our noses still touched, and we were both cross eyed looking at each other. He glared fiercely down at me before scolding, "Connor Joel Franta, I am not  too good for you. Do you wanna know something?" I frowned slightly at the first part because he is too good, but nodded nonetheless, my curiosity taking over. Instead of speaking, he rolled over and pulled out his phone, scrolling through something before coming up with what he wanted. He turned the volume up, let his Apple screen go dark, and pulled my head into his lap. His nimble fingers ran wild in my hair, and I listened to the first notes that pierced the quiet.

We are runnin' so fast

And we never look back

And whatever I lack, you make up

Troye was playing for him.

The song played on, and by the fourth verse I was expecting Allday, but instead Troye paused the music and began to sing softly in my ear.

We're not a commercial for everyone else

He trails his thumb across my cheek, pushing his fingers into my hair for the hundredth time tonight. Not that I'm complaining. 

We go out for coffee, and keep to ourselves

I blame my goosebumps on the chilly air, but as I sit tangled up with Troye, absorbing his heat, I know that's not why I have the chills, and it's not why my heart is beating a million times faster than usual.

We make little homes out of three star hotels,

His breath is hot, and his voice is smooth and sweet and the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. It sounds better than the rest of his songs, it sounds better than any song I've ever heard. It oozes out of his mouth, sickeningly sweet like honey, and makes me feel at ease,

And I know what you're feeling

Our eyes meet, and time stops. His eyes are so blue, and I find myself drowning in them, sinking in deeper and deeper. There's no saving me from this boy, I'm head over heels. He takes a breath, whispering the rest.

Cause I feel it, as well.