gasoline [boyxboy]

three

"i'm trying not to let it show, that i don't want to let this go"

Connor had woken up to find Mike sprawled out on the kitchen floor, beside a cocktail of his own vomit and warm beer. His mom wasn't far off, a half lit cigarette dangling dangerously from her fingers. He angled his way around them, making himself a plain toast while his sister walked in through the front door. Her ripped stockings were covered by her old overcoat, and the makeup around her eyes and lips were smudged. Her mascara has run down her cheeks, as if she had been crying.

Before Connor could ask something, Violet growled out, "What the fuck you looking at?" before jogging up the stairs, banging the room of her door for an added effect.

He shrugged before leaving the house. He had more important stuff to worry about, like a certain dark haired boy, with forest green eyes, and a hazy mind. His first class today was Algebra, so he knew he had to face Enzo.

The streets were especially cold in the morning, filled with still drunk people trudging back home. He sidestepped the people passed out on the filthy pavement, recognizing the familiar faces that he'd seen all his life.

God, he couldn't wait to get out of here.

Connor reached class and sat on his usual seat, finishing last night's homework. He sat near the windows and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up, so he could hide his earphones underneath. The seat beside him was usually empty, or occupied by some bimbo with a short skirt and bright red lipstick. He was mindlessly tracing the edge of his desk when he spotted Enzo, clad in an oversized sweater and some ripped skinny jeans. The lanky frame of the eccentric boy seemed even gangly as he stumbled to a seat near the far end of the class, a couple of desks away from Connor. As soon as he slumped down into the seat, he pulled his sleeves forward to cover his knuckles and shifted his head down, his brown hair covering his eyes.

Connor wanted to talk to him, but he couldn't figure out how to. He was especially discouraged when Richard walked in, a fresh shiner under his left eye. If possible, Enzo appeared even smaller as Richard plopped into seat beside him, a smug smirk on his face. Before he could be spotted ogling the pair, Connor turned around and started scribbling on the math worksheet in front of him.

In a few minutes a piece of paper landed perfectly on his desk.

"meet me in the washroom after class"

He breathed a sign as his jeans hit the washroom floor, Amanda soon sinking with them. His hand curled through her blonde hair as he pushed her down further, his head rolling behind to hit the tiled wall. He was balancing a cigarette between his lips as he watched her below him, trying to feel something except the numbness running through his veins.

She was a nice girl, sometimes he wished she was something more than just a warm mouth to him.

A few minutes later she stood up and planted an open mouthed kiss on the corner of his lips. He pulled up his jeans, while she slipped on her shoes before strutting out. Connor walked out a few moments later, stopping when he saw Enzo leaning against the half shattered mirror in the restroom.

He noticed the discoloration near Enzo's cheekbone and the bruised knuckles more clearly. The black and blue stained his pale skin as he smirked at Connor.

He was about to ask  him about the bruises when he was cut off,

"You want to go out tonight?" 

****

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