You Will Be Found || Lams || COMPLETED

🐢cute boys, pumpkin pie, and turtles ~ chapter 5🐢

I walk into our quaint dorm to see two tiny boxes put in front of the door with the label Alex written on them in black sharpie.

"John!" Peggy calls from the dining room, her black jeans covered in flour. She walks over to me and pecks me on the lips. Alex had a rolling pin in his hand, his dark green shirt also covered in flour.

"Hey, guys," I greet, setting down my heavy bag on the couch. "It smells good in here."

"I'm teaching Peggy how to make pumpkin pie!" Alex excitedly explains, smiling widely.

"So we now have two cooks in this house?" I tease, having a seat at our breakfast nook that looked into the open kitchen.

"Yep," Peggy grins, "Oh, Alex, never let John into the kitchen. He will most probably burn it down."

"I'm not that bad at cooking," I object, rolling my eyes and chuckling.

"You keep telling yourself that," Peggy laughs, frantically walking past Alex to reach the oven. "Remember that time you tried to make ramen noodles and broke the microwave?"

"Well- yeah..." I shamefully admit, shrugging my shoulders. "Anyways, where are your other boxes, Alex?"

"What do you mean?" He asks, gleefully rolling out a large piece of dough.

"You have two boxes at the door. Where are your other ones?"

"Oh, that's all my stuff. I'll unpack later, I'm sorry I didn't unpack soon," He apologizes.

"Wait, what?" I ask in disbelief.

"I don't own a lot of stuff," He explains and does his cute lopsided smirk. Wait, no, not cute. What?

"Oh-oh, okay," I stutter quietly. Did I just call Alexander cute in my head? I mean, it is the 21st century and girls call each other cute platonically all the time! It can't be wrong for me to call Alexander cute, can it?

"Baby, are you okay?" Peggy asks, retrieving a tin container out of the top cabinet. She knocks me out of my slight reverie.

"Yeah," Alexander adds on, "You're shaking."

"I-I'm fine," I mutter as I scoop up my bag on the couch and quickly dash into the bedroom with my head down. "I just- I just have so much work to do."

I take one last look at Alex and Peggy as they share worried glances. I frantically shut the door and I notice that my breath is shaky.

What the fuck is going on with me? I think my new roommate, who's a boy, is cute, even after that weirdly terrifying dream. I look at him, and I can't help but think of his bronzed slightly muscular body in the back of my mind.

I love Peggy, and I always will, and I know for a fact that nothing will come between us. But how is Alexander causing me to feel the same warm buzz in my chest, similar to the emotion I felt when I first met Peggy?

No, I can't have a crush on him. That's betrayal! I can't just leave Peggy after 7 years, not after a man I just met.

But I can't help that my eyes flutter to him first, then Peggy when they're in the same room.

This is wrong, painfully wrong.

I need to get my mind off of Alexander and Peggy, and the only way I will find relief is through sketching. I dig in my book bag and retrieve my tattered sketchbook with pages falling out.

I skip through all the pages of turtles. I fucking love turtles.

I stare at the blank white piece of paper. My hand flows over the paper with such ease, and it's not until I'm almost finished when I realize what I've been drawing.

Alexander.

I used a darker charcoal pencil to fill in his dark eyes and hair. I drew his jawline and facial features with such ease. His beautiful sideways smile.

"Whatcha drawing?"

I flail my arms over the sketchbook and throw it under the blanket before he could see if. I turn around he stands in the doorway with his stupid sideways smile.

"N-Nothing," I lie.

"Peggy had just left for class," He says, sitting next to me on the bed. "Can I see what you're drawing?"

"Uh-" and before I can even make up my mind, by instinct, I hand him my closed notebook. He skims through the many pages of turtles.

"You surely love turtles," He chuckles, until he gets to the last page. His smile slowly drops.

"Is- Is that me?"

I pathetically nod.

He stares at the drawing for a moment, tracing over the grey and black lines when his index finger.

"It's beautiful."

'Just like you.'

"Can I keep it?"

"Of course," I answer quietly. He beams once again and takes out a smile navy blue notebook. He precisely and gently rips out the drawing and placed it in a new spot in his notebook.

"You have a real talent!" He says in awe.

"T-Thanks. It's just a sketch," I weakly explain.

"I can only draw stick figures. But this is amazing."

He smiles at me, admiring the portrait in his notebook. I smile back.