(Dallon and Ryan are in high school. Long story short, Dallon hates Ryan but now they're spending Christmas together and alone. Saying this cause I'm thinking about making a full book)
After a night neither boy can remember, Dallon wakes up snuggled with the boy who he once said he hated.
-Dallon-
I've always liked Sunday mornings. They feel so calm and happy and just reminds me of two chairs in a corner of a windowed corner, a white round table with a yellow vase full of white roses. The curtains are almost frail like; white and a bit ghostly.
And when I wake up, just now on this cold December morning just three days before Christmas, I find myself very warm. Not warm to the point of kicking off a blanket at 9:39 at night with your window wide open, but warm like snuggling with a significant other underneath a blanket.
But the person underneath the blanket with me is someone who if you asked me one week ago I would say I hate. But for some reason right now, right when snow gently falls from the grey skies just outside on this Sunday morning, I don't want to push him away. Every time I would hear someone talk about him, hear a girl admiring how cute he is, I would roll my eyes.
All their admiration towards this boy, I get it now.
Ryan is... something. The way his lips part ever so slightly as he peacefully sleeps, the way he looks up at the sky, the way he closes his eyes and smiles when it snows, the way his chest rises and lowers in a slow rhythm, the way his fingers are curled into a grip on my shirt. He is special. He somehow got me, a person who absolutely hates his presence, to want to get his attention to go to myself instead of others.
Our legs are intertwined together. He is laying on his right, as I am my left. His right arm is pressed between both of our chests, gripping my shirt slightly as his left hand is rested on my jawline, mostly the side of my neck. My left arm is around him and my hand is on his left shoulder, while my right hand is on his waist.
Our foreheads are pressed together as our heads rest on the same pillow, our noses just barely touching. I can feel his hot breaths on my lips. He's warm. And so am I.
All those times I thought I hated Ryan could maybe be I was actually jealous. Not jealous of Ryan. Not at all. Instead, jealous of all the girlfriends. All the girlfriends that Ryan dated. I wasn't, however, ever once mad when he and a girl broke up. Because deep inside I secretly loved the thought of Ryan being single. I used to think it was because no one loved him, but now it might've been because I was the one all along.
And that terrifies me.
Ryan moves slightly, and I'm not sure whether or not to pull away. Ryan inhales, then moves closer unconsciously, but this only causes our lips to gently touch. Not quite kissing, but barely touching. My heart flutters, chills running up my spine, yet I still don't find myself pulling away. The only thing I'm pulling away is the urge to lean forward.
I close my eyes and I pull his hips closer, closing any possible space, in which he happily obliges. Part of me wonders if he is asleep, if he is tiredly accepting whatever I do, or maybe, just maybe he is awake, loving every moment of this as much as I am.
Ryan's fingers gently move from my neck to the back of my head, gently running his fingers through my hair, his thumb slightly rubbing the back of my neck. He is definitely awake.
"Dal...?" he just barely whispers, his lips repeatedly grazing against mine. We both open our eyes, staring into each other's.
"Ry?" I repeat. He looks at my lips, then smiles. And that's all he has to do, because I quickly lean forwards, pressing my lips against his. Ryan immediately kisses back as we both close our eyes.
My mind is racing, as well as my heart. Ryan really is special. Just the other day I was telling Brendon how much I hate Ryan, and now I'm kissing him.
I am actually kissing Ryan Ross.
And I love it.
Our lips begin to move in sync. First slow and sweet, until we pull away and look at each other. Ryan smiles before snuggling into my chest, wrapping his arms around me. I hold him close, admiring how small and warm he is.
Then I notice how warm I am too.
And I love it.
