Conflicted Eyes, Confusing Feelings | Complete

t w e n t y - s e v e n

Again, another chapter (that was really supposed to be 26) split in two due to length (over 13,000 words this time like wtf?).

Anyways, Merry  Christmas 💫

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You can lie to everyone in the world but yourself.

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Hello, Alexander! How are you on this cloudy day? Well, I'm sitting in class, studying for my upcoming Physics test.

Have you been eating? You liked the Boost, so I wonder if you've been taking anymore?  I'm worried!

It would make me happy if you were to...

Sage paused. The tip of his green ballpoint pen hung just above the lavender strip of card, but he couldn't breakdown what he wanted to say — not in words, anyways. The last thing he wanted was for another diary scandal to erupt and put him in the spotlight again.

His eyes were swift as they brushed over everything he'd written so far. Was it too long? Too formal? It surrounded like it. Dear Alexander? How about, 'Dear Xander', or something cool and suave like, 'Yo, Blaze'?

Tapping the tip of the pen to his cheeks, Sage thought harder. Eventually, he'd written, crossed out and erased so much that the paper was only left to be torns, severing the bunch of gibberish he wanted to write to Xander. Why was it that hard? It wasn't as though it was a love letter or anything of that sort.

A small sigh slipped from Sage's lips as he crumbled the note about to safely stuff it in the drink section of his bagpack when he took one glance at it. His exasperation transformed into full-on embarrassment when he noticed that all his common I's were dotted with small hearts at the top. And why on earth did his writing look like that? His penmanship had his letters tilting to the left, with certain letters adorned with a stylish curl to them, such as his l's, f's, w's and so forth.

Was it too girly?

The boy groaned, taking that as an even bigger push to crumble it and put it away. Reaching into his folder for a new segment of construction paper, his shoulders sagged and disappointment rigged his body upon discovering that the only paper left was one in pink. What would Xander think if he wrote on that? Just because Sage was perceived to be a girl and gay didn't mean he was high on fulfilling all the stereotypes for such a person.

First of all, Sage didn't even have a favourite colour.

As Sage aimed his best glare at the paper, he surrendered for sighing instead. His pale cheeks were dusted with the palest shade of pink as he swiped the cluster of curls that took the liberty of dipping into his eyes. Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of the period and freshman/sophomore lunch, but on that day, Monday, Sage usually waited for Randall to end his math class merged with the senior, where they'd head to the library to study. Hence, as everyone piled out of the classroom to meet their other friends, Sage remained seated at the back of the class, then trying to balance his mechanical pencil between his lips and nose. At the curious stares he received, he resorted to dropping his head and buying himself with a random deed.

But instead of working, his subconscious mind drifted where it desired, and shortly after, it came as no surprise that his conscious mind followed suit as well.

To the boy he was yet to get out of his head.

Ice cubes for eyes, sleek, midnight dark locks that gleamed alluringly in even the faintest lighting, the longest lashes Sage had ever seen, and impeccable skin flashed through Sage's mind, and before he knew it, his hands were against his cheek. His innocent daydream took a turn for the dull as the recollection of the past week rolled back to him in waves.