Poisoned Blood ↠ Edward Cullen ✓

08 ; the ballad of the brain

It was cold in Forks, but all Caden felt was warmth.

His chest was warm as he laid in bed, dark eyes staring up at the spinning ceiling fan perched above himself. With his left leg outstretched outside of the blanket, the teenage boy could feel it around himself that it was going to be a good day. Possibly, a good week, if he were being optimistic.

Gathering himself up from his room, Caden shuffled towards his closet. Behind him, the only window in his bedroom slid open. A small smile landed onto Caden's face at his un-announced intruder.

One of the legs of his sweatpants had been rucked up to the knee in his sleep, the grey fabric contrasting against his mocha colored complexion. His hair was also in a disarray, spewing around his head in an disorderly fashion. Caden would be embarrassed by his appearance if Edward hadn't already said he'd preferred Caden disheveled.

"I think we have a test today," Caden spoke, turning towards Edward. Whom of which was lounging on his bed, watching Caden with thoughtful golden eyes. He had yet to speak, but Caden knew Edward was more focused on his thoughts more than anything.

So, Caden stared at Edward's appearance with more detail. Fitting dark blue jeans, a soft grey Henley, with simple dress shoes. Edward was also wearing a soft knitted cardigan, that made the lean muscles of his arms more defined.

"Enough about me." Edward spoke, moving forwards and grasping Caden gently to himself. Always so gently.

Edward always touched him lightly, despite Caden's many attempts at getting him to stop treating him like a China doll. Not that Caden didn't appreciate the thought of Edward wanting to make sure that he didn't snap Caden in half by accident, but the dark skinned male wasn't a compound of glass.

"I like thinking about you though," Caden teased, pressing their foreheads together. He felt Edward tense for a moment before relaxing. Caden simply grinned once more, trying to steady his heart.

He wasn't used to feeling this much before. Growing up, Caden had always been composed. Had to be, with the family he had of marble, emotionless statues. However, it seemed that Edward was slowly tearing away all that composure strip by strip with every fleeting touch.

"Get dressed," Edward intoned, stepping away from Caden's warm embrace. "We have school in less than an hour."

Deciding not to reply, Caden turned back towards his closet. He chose a simple soft blue T-shirt, paired with black jeans, and a black beanie. He didn't need to stand in front of the mirror for hours trying to tame his hair when he already knew it wouldn't happen.

"Turn around," Caden said, whirling his finger in a circle. "I'm not ready for you to see me naked yet."

Edward, ever the Victorian gentleman, turned around without complaint. Caden admired Edward's back muscles for a moment, feeling warmth flood down to his groin at the sight. They were such a simple feature, yet on Edward they-

"Caden," Edward spoke, his voice slightly tight. "Get dressed."

Grinning, Caden changed into a fresh-set of boxers, before shimmying into his jeans. He then placed on his shirt before telling Edward had could look now. Once Edward turned back around, Caden worked his beanie over his black curls, shifting the fabric every so often for a style he liked on his head.

Once he had styled his hat how he wanted, Edward excused himself from Caden's bedroom window and headed towards his car. This was all apart of their routine. This pretend "picking you up" in the morning rouse. Almost every morning Edward was with Caden as he got dressed for school before the bronze haired boy left to get in his car to drive up to Caden's house.