blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 26

His question shocks me completely. From aliens to sexuality? You just never know with this guy. I take a second before opening my mouth to answer this one. After about a moment of careful contemplation I begin to explain.

"There is no right way to be gay. There's no list of instructions that tell you this is how to act and this is what to wear, et cetera. Everyone is different. A homosexual man, like any other man, comes in many different forms," I start pausing to look at him. He's staring intently at me, listening to my every word. When he notices that I've stopped to look at him he smiles encouragingly for me to continue.

"I do consider labels to be irrelevant but signficant at the same time. For example, some men are not comfortable with being called homosexual, because although they only find sexual pleasure in being with another man they may not find the same pleasure in all men, does that make sense?"

With a momentary pause, Harry answers no. Before I continue I reposition myself against his hard chest. The sand is icy cold on my bottom, so I scoot up closer to him cautious of the fact that he's only in briefs.

"Okay, umm, well, story time," I begin scrunching my eyebrows in thought.

"I met this one guy a few years back and he found the idea of having sex with any man or woman - other than this one guy named Timothy - repulsive. For lack of a better explanation, he was Tim-sexual. I know it's not much, but does that sort of make sense?" I ask.

"It does sort of," he acknowledges, voice slightly quieter now. He must be in deep thought.

"Did he ever love anyone after Timothy?"

"They're still together," I state warmly. He hums in response seeming pleased with my answer. His arms tighten around me slightly.

After a short slot of silence he opens his mouth to speak again.

"So, could it be this way?" he begins forming his sentence into a rhetorical question before he explains.

"A man who has been with women sexually all of his life finds that he has feelings for this guy that are also sexual. He's never looked at any other guy in this way and for the longest time considered himself straight because of this," he proceeds unwavering in his delivery, only stopping to ensure that I'm following.

"However, there's just one guy who he can't seem to get out of his head. Who troubles his thoughts every second of the day. He's not in love with the guy. As a matter of fact, he's never been in love, but when he's around him he doesn't feel the need to be with anyone else,"

"What would you label him?" he asks, finally taking a breath.

His example as well as his questions shocks the hell out of me. Is he talking about himself? He has to be. There's no way this anecdote isn't about himself! My mind is racing at a thousand miles per hour and yet somehow I find some way to calm it down enough to answer his question.

"Well, see, that's where I'd consider labels to be irrelevant, because saying the guy is straight may hold some truth while calling the guy gay or bisexual holds some truth. To be honest, it would be much easier for the guy to be labeled straight, gay, and bisexual, but that logic seems to contradict itself, does it not?"

Harry nods his head slightly to show understanding his hair glistening from the water.

"Therefore, I wouldn't bother labeling the guy. To me he would just be a guy who is attracted to things/people he finds beautiful," I continue letting sand fall through my separated hands.

"Or we could be silly and say that his sexuality is 'insert guys name' and tag the word sexual to the end to introduce a new sexuality, as my friend did years ago."

This causes Harry to chuckle and his low voice rings throughout the cave and throughout my spine. His body shakes the both of us as he laughs, making me smile at the feeling.

The quiet makes it way back into the cave but comfortably. The only sounds are of Harry's low breaths and mine, the slowed sloshing of the water up against the cave, and the quiet crackle of the dying fire.

After the fire has died down and Harry's attempts to revive it get us no where we both look at the top of the cave to find a small opening that shows the stars that dance in the night sky.

How long have we been here?

Looking back down, my eyes meet Harry's own for a second in a lock that's storytelling. His green eyes pierce down at me and mine up at his thanks to his towering height. I break the moment, suddenly uncomfortable, and go to kick dirt on the dead fire to prevent a spark or anything of the sort, because you just never know.

What was that?

"I think that it's time for us to go back home," I say and instantly regret it.

Harry's entire demeanor has changed and somehow he seems colder, more distant now. I don't have time for his psychotic mood changes and ignore him as I begin to make my way back into the water to swim back to land. Before I dive in, however, I feel Harry's long fingers wrap around my forearm and turn me around.

He doesn't say anything at first. Just stares at me awkwardly with his eyebrows scrunched and his large hands cupping the sides of my shoulders.

"Thanks for coming with me. I had a good time," he claims before planting a soft kiss on my forehead. The feel of his lips on my skin is everything. They're somehow indescribably soft while also being cold and chapped. His gentle kindness causes me to smile brightly up at him, but before I am able to respond he is in the water swimming back to land.

Maybe things are finally getting better, my subconscious suggests before I jump in, smile on my face.