"im so sorry, will, god damn, i feel like a douche for asking now, holy shit!" i rant nervously, rereading the paper a few times. what kind of lifeless cunt would do this to such a sweet boy?
its fine, mike. at least i wasnt killed.
"i still feel so bad for asking. god, if you ever need anyone, im here." i assure. he blushes madly and looks down at the notepad.
but youll leave me like everyone else. im the anxious mute boy and youre the pretty, jock boy.
he stops, closes his eyes tight, then writes more.
god im such a creep. i cant even control myself when i write.
i chuckle lightly, "its alright. i think its cute that you find me pretty. i find a lot of things cute about you." i held his small hand, "and i promise i wont leave you."
he blushes and slowly holds my hand back, seeming to enjoy the touch. "have i told you how pretty you are?" he shook his head no. "you are. so pretty, god, i could look at you all day and still find something new and beautiful."
he laughed a little more clearly, and it was like sugar sprinkling over syrup, if that makes sense.
"i will make you talk, will byers."
