Masque (boyxboy)

21

Kenneth Starr ↑

Pray by Sam Smith

🌟🌟🌟

I walked into my boyfriend's room and saw him caressing lotion onto his creamy-toned, spotless skin. He was on his window bed with a white and gold faux fur robe lightly tied around his body. I could smell the vanilla scent from his shower, an aroma that used to be enticing to me.

"Kristopher," he acknowledged me with a sinister undertone in his voice. Without lifting his head, he cast his gray eyes to my face. "What's wrong, my sweet?"

I walked to his large window bed and sat down next to him, and he put his feet up and faced me

"Are you okay?" I had to ask.

"Why wouldn't I be? Are you still on this, Kris? I'm fine. Why do you keep thinking there's some deep problem I'm dealing with?"

"Maybe because there actually is? And you don't want anyone to know what it is, but I'm your boyfriend."

"Being my boyfriend doesn't entitle you to answers that I'm not willing to give. Besides, you've so clearly picked Jaden over me."

I wrinkled my brows. "We're friends."

"Okay," he answered softly. That came as a surprise if I were being honest. Just last week he'd erupted at the mere idea of my blossoming friendship with Jaden Briggs, and now... 'okay'... okay? "I see you're confused," he said, analyzing my expressions.

It was a bit unsettling to know he was reading every single reaction of mine. "A little. I mean, you made it clear that you don't want us being friends."

"I don't. And that's only because I'm not stupid, I can see how much he likes you."

I shook my head. "Jaden does not like me." I wasn't stupid either. I guessed I was just in denial, and I felt guilty about the quiet spark of hope that I felt around him. He was... different. He wasn't stuck up or constantly seeking approval. He had a passion and a drive for something which was admirable.

"I'm tired," he sighed. "I love you and you don't see it."

"In my defense, Corbyn, I feel very shut out. If you don't want to confide in me, fine, but talk to someone you do trust. That way, you won't feel the need to unleash your wrath on everyone at school. And just as important, you'll feel less burdened."

"We keep having this conversation, and it's getting boring. And don't you remember my apology tour? Whatever I did to any loser at that school has been forgiven. I've got nothing to atone for. Y-you know, maybe they deserved it. Everyone there thinks they can step on me, so making them sick with fear is the only way to stop them." He continued to apply his lotion, looking very distressed. I could tell he regarded his words as the truth. I always thought that people believing their own lies couldn't happen, but Corbyn was one of those people.

"Nobody is trying to step on you, Corb. It's kinda the other way around. You're the one hurting them."

He snapped his head to me, scowling. "Then they deserve it."

I closed my eyes and let out a slow, long breath. Okay, so there was no way to reason with him. And his mother definitely wasn't any help if she refused to believe her son wasn't troubled about something. I needed to speak with his dad then; maybe he could offer his help.

"Corbyn, would you like a hug?" I resorted. It seemed a trivial solution on the surface, but hugs were powerful, healing gestures.

And, yes, I was a very spiritual (yet nonreligious) person, so I was a strong believer in healing the mind. It was more vulnerable than the body, yet stronger still.