The Art Of Keeping Up Disappearances // Brallon

Abyzou

‡ dallon's pov ‡

faggot

I'd actually called him a faggot.

I'm fucking awful. how could I have done that? and ryan was right, how come I didn't think of brendon? I was past gay being a sin, especially after taking to breezy!

I still didn't want to talk to him for a while, but I would apologize the next time we did talk. I sat with my sketchbook and pencil, surprisingly, I wasn't drawing brendon. or anything related to him. I was drawing frank, his pale lips and bright eyes.

my phone vibrated.

(3) texts from: Bren

I opened up my phone and read his texts.

The first thing my eyes landed on was "in my asshole ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) " and I quickly closed the conversation. it was friday I knew that but the time didn't matter to me. but school was out for the weekend and I remembered to ask frank for his number at lunch. figuring the smart boy could help me, I texted him

Dallon: frank I fucked up

Frank: please elaborate

and after I elaborated, frank texted back with: "well shit,dude"

Dallon: i know! what should i do?

Frank: take a few days to think. on monday, talk to him and say whatever you decide to say

Dallon: but w h at do i say?

Frank: something sincere

Dallon: what

Dallon: do

Dallon: i

Frank: fuckin stop it man

Dallon: s a y

Frank: dallon, i already said. say something sincere. and it won't be sincere if it comes from me.

Dallon: youre right

Frank: i usually am

Dallon: what do you think will happen?

Frank: i don't know. maybe you two will get married on the spot or maybe he'll kill you or he'll get hit by a car or you two will just argue again.
even if you two are soulmates, you're going to argue and bicker and maybe even not fall in love, but i don't know. and neither will you of you don't talk to the boy

I sat there for a while contemplating what he said. eventually, I got up and went downstairs, deciding to eat so I could do something that wasn't nothing. my little sister, elle, was sitting on the counter top with a cat on her lap.

"elle why do you have a cat?" I asked her, beginning to dig through the fridge.

"he is a stray who lives in the neighborhood," she explained. "and he was dying of heatstroke on the sidewalk so I brought him inside and gave him water."

"does dad know?" I finally just gave up my search for something good and grabbed a shiny apple.

"dad's not home, why?" elle pet the cat in her lap and he purred contently. " 'ya gonna tell on me?"

"no." I said simply, hopping onto the counter next to her- well it wasn't really hopping more just lowering myself from my tiptoes. the counter is low and I am tall- and reached for the cat slowly. "does he have a name?"

"not yet, do you know any cute names?"

before I could stop myself, my mouth suddenly said "bren". well fuck.