Mute Boy » Ashton Irwin

Sixteen : Go Ahead, Rip My Heart Out

After the concert, we go to Bonnie's house. We're both quiet as we head up stairs to her room, but it's a good kind of quiet. A comfortable kind of quiet.

As usual her parents don't care what she does, so they're tucked in their room not worrying what time Bonnie comes home. I'm sort of grateful for that at the moment. My clothes are damp and wet, but I don't care. I don't feel cold and I don't feel wet; all I feel is her hand in mine. It's like the only part of me that has any feeling is the part that's touching her.

When we reach her room, she turns on a night stand lamp. Giving the room a soft glow like candles. "I may have some of my brothers clothes, if you want to change."

I'm not sure if I want to say yes. I don't know how I'd get into them with her right in front of me. I change clothes in front of guys in the locker room all the time, but this is different. So different. I nodded yes anyways.

She opened her drawer and took out a shirt and burgundy basketball shorts. Rather than wrestle with the logistics of getting out of my clothes and into her brothers, I start to put the shirt over my damp one.

"Are you trying to give yourself pneumonia? Take your wet clothes off and change."

Bonnie is standing directly in front of me, so that's not gonna happen. "You don't actually get sick from wearing wet clothes, you know," I say through my chattering teeth, stalling for time.

She laughs and then says, "Well, even if it doesn't make you sick, it won't make you comfortable. But if you're going to insist on being shy, I'll turn my back and change over here."

I watch as she pulls out a Pink Floyd t-shirt from her drawer thats as long as a dress, and it makes me smile.

When she turns her back to me, her skull necklace swings around and catches my eyes, not letting go. I'm still staring at it as I slowly pull my shirt off. The fabric sticks to my skin like my eyes are stuck on her. Like a magician, she wraps a huge towel around herself and I see her shirt drop, followed by her jeans, underwear, and bra. Holy fuck she's naked under there. Still somehow wrapped in the towel, she slides into the dry tshirt covering her rose tattoo. Then she slips on her dry underwear.

I haven't moved. I'm still standing there, shirtless, when she turns back around. For a minute I'm embarrassed that she caught me watching her and I expect her to get mad, but she doesn't. I'm always wrong when it comes to Bonnie. Instead she picks up the other towel and starts drying my chest off. It's a crazy feeling almost like flying. I stay there like an idiot, shivering. It isn't from the cold this time.

When she looks down at my wet jeans, it takes every single bit of control I have to force my hand up to take the towel from her and form the words, "I got it."

She laughs and turns away again, pretending to sort through her drawer. "Well, if you're sure."

I scramble out of my jeans. Fuck, should I take off my boxers.. I look up from my wet boxers at Bonnie and raise an eyebrow.

She giggles, covers her eyes, and turns around. I take off the boxers and slip on her brothers shorts. I clear my throat to let her know I'm done changing.

"I'm glad you're here," she says as she makes herself comfortable in the bed.

I sit next to her so we're both sitting on the edge of the bed, "Me too." I reply, but I know there's no way I can capture what I'm feeling in words.

"I wish we could stay up all night," She says. In my head, another lists forms, a lists of other things I wish but don't have the courage to say, much less do.