Love Overcast // (ManxMan)

=Chapter 23=

A/N: He looks very cuddly! Amazing person in real life too!

[Owen]

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Ask

/ɑːsk/ verb

Say something in order to obtain an answer or some information.

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1 month later...

Gloomy blue rays hit the sheen silver metal at an angle, shattered reflections of rainbows shine across the wall of my tiny apartment, caused by the serrated edge of the blade. Surely the metal is cold, contrasting the radiator just on the opposite side of this wall, but I don't need the pain for a wake up call anymore.

The sting of the blade intruding the layers of my skin doesn't seem to appeal to me anymore. The appeal hadn't been there in the beginning anyway, it served as a reminder. However, right now, the prospect of self harm doesn't seem at all thrilling.

It looks far less interesting than it used to.

Weeks have passed since Jameson's confession to me, and once again, my fairy tale remains false. Not a single part of the whole process was enchanting or out of the world. I remember a lot of tears, very few words, many thoughts. No boundaries.

Jameson's appeal is not in his occasionally stand-offish attitude, or the mediocre modulation in his baritone voice. I find him refreshing and addictive when he is bashful, when he doesn't treat me as a twink and surrenders his fears to me instead of baring both of our past wounds. He lets me hold him as I learn to let him hold me.

I like the feeling of being equal to him.

With Roman, I had been the burden in his life. He did things for me while I handled the trivial tasks, it's sweet but also slightly degrading to my independence. Now that I have regained it, I enjoy having someone that respects that independence and allows me to do as he would.

For a man with legs longer than the London railway and shoulders that span the entire clock face of the Big Ben, you'd imagine him to comment on my exceedingly small apartment. But no, he just loves lounging around. It's to a point where he has brought his own pillow and blankets so sleeping over would be more convenient.

I hate to think that I am the reason he is making such an effort, but every time over the past weeks that I have brought the issue of romantic feelings up, he brushes it off and says he's got all the time in the world since he has landed himself a decent job during the summer as Sebastien's boyfriend's body guard.

Speaking of that, I don't actually know what the hell is happening between Sebastien and Leonardo. I would bump into them from time to time, never together though, somehow everyone claims that they are dating. Obviously, I get cold feet when I try to ask, and I don't feel like it's the right thing for me to ask. Maybe it's because they are older people that romance is different in their world, who knows?

All I know is that I am awake a whole hour earlier than my alarm clock and these thoughts are plaguing my perfectly fine morning.

Without much thought, I swing my legs off the side of my bed, ready to prepare breakfast at 6:12 am, my feet collide unceremoniously with a heap of human genitals and I immediately reel back in embarrassment as Jameson grunts loudly and curls over.

The most unintentional movements hold the most strength. I do feel like I just slammed my foot into a lightning rod made out of metal though. The state that he is in fuels the massive influx of blood to the surface of my skin.