Colors (bxb) [DISCONTINUED]

happen

DISCLAIMER: I updated twice. If you're seeing this, make sure that you've read the chapter before this. Thank you. And enjoy.

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"There are a million more dreams being dreamt tonight, but somehow this one feels like it just might happen."

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I love Justin Reynolds.

I might as well stop running away from it. I love him. Maybe I'm just being a stupid teenager, and maybe I still can't even fathom what real love looks like . . . but I don't care. Nobody has ever made me feel so alive - while simultaneously making me want to die, with every bad word and action I take. It's not even about his looks anymore, even though that's a very nice plus. He's genuinely a good person, inside and out, and I can't find a single flaw.

Maybe I should be worried about that. It's always the ones you least expect that'll ruin you, my mother told me one day. And even though she definitively wasn't talking about another guy, I presume the words still hold their same weight.

I can predict Robin; by now, I know exactly how he'll act, and I know exactly how he could hurt me. The fact that he's so unsafe is what makes him safe. But Justin is entirely different. He's everything that I could've dreamed of - and more.

But dreams have a terrifying knack of turning into nightmares.

"Think, Kristopher. Stop getting side-tracked," I tell myself, running a hand through my wet hair. The shower-head rains down on me, the steam rushing into the air. It's the most relaxing thing I've felt all day. My mom doesn't usually let me stay very long in the shower, so this is a surprisingly nice treat.

Of course, I force myself not to think about the fact that I'm in Justin's bathroom, using Justin's shower, bathing with one of Justin's towels. Nope. Not thinking about that. I'm not thinking about that at all.

"Anyway," I say aloud - because talking to myself is fairly mollifying. "I like- love Justin. I love him a lot. The real question is, does he love- like me back? And what am I supposed to do to get that confession out of him, without outing myself? And what if he doesn't like me at all? I'll look like an idiot. Jesus Christ, I'm probably just an idiot . . ."

And here comes the self-doubt, flooding back through my defenses. Really, why would Justin like me? I'm a mess, in so many different ways than one. And if Justin was gay - or even bisexual - I'd probably already know. He would've already made a move. Hell, even when the accidental kiss happened, he pushed me off in the span of a millisecond.

And what gay guy agrees to go on a date with the most popular girl in the school? I don't care what Justin says about that; it's a date, and that's what I'm going to call it. He probably just invited me because he felt sorry for me. Or maybe he just wants to flaunt his growing relationship with Stephany, in revenge for me getting a hickey.

I'm just one big idiot.

Stop! the voice in the back of my mind screams. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head. Stop it. You're wrong. You have plenty of good qualities. Justin even said so himself. Why would he invite you to his house? Why would he wrap his arm around you during the movie? He likes you. Even if it's not in the way that you'd prefer, he really does like you.