Bathe in Color

44. Grayson Pierce, Age 17, August 21, 2019

With barely any convincing, Paris agrees to watch A Star is Born with me. I can't wait to see his face when Lady Gaga belts her heart out on "Shallow" or gives a riveting rendition of "Always Remember Us This Way." We're waiting for the sun to set so I can leave the curtains drawn and the evening seaside breeze can gently flow inside to keep my room cool. My parents are downstairs playing card games and watching reruns of Seinfeld, a common pastime we usually share, but as much as I love sitting in between my mom and dad while playing poker, I'd much rather spend this beautiful night cuddling alongside my boyfriend watching one of my favorite movies.

The two of us snuggle under the bed and I know my parents said Paris had to sleep on the windowsill, but I don't care. That night I spent over at Paris' was one of the most electrifying moments of my life. I held him all night long and felt his heart beating in the center of my palm. I heard every breath he took as my chin pressed against his soft thin back. Now, after one night with Paris in my arms, I don't think there's enough time in the world for all the moments I want to hold him and call him mine.

The movie starts, and right away my heart races as Paris laces his hand in mine, resting his head of delicate black curls on my shoulder. I turn my head to peer into his petrifying black eyes and become hypnotized by their intoxicating grasp on my soul, unable to focus on the movie even as Bradley Cooper's gripping rifts fill my ears. All I want is to look at Paris forever, to memorize every part of him - every ink black curl on his head, every light dotted freckle on his face, every crease of his bright red lips, every line on his smooth paper white skin. I want to know him in ways I haven't known anyone else before.

As I peer right into his deliciously dark eyes, each and every memory we share flashes before my eyes. From the moment I first caught sight of him through my bedroom window, I knew I wanted nothing more than to fall in love with this beautiful guy who is fantastic in every way. Even in his flaws, I see hope radiantly shine through.

Vivid pictures flicker in my mind of carrying him crying into his house, planting pink carnations on the front porch, taking my first trip to the beach with him, holding him as he cried in the sand, making him feel gorgeous and free in our photoshoot, kissing him after speeding through the desert. All of it I did to know who Paris really was, to know who Paris really is.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Gray?" Paris asks, also unable to focus on the film, only on my distracting green glare.

"I can't help but admire your beauty, inside and out."

Paris' cheeks blush just a tad, enough that it brings some color to his pale face. My fingers trace Paris' light pink cheek, and I outline his thin jawline, analyzing the freckles dotted across his face. He smiles at me, his teeth hiding behind his curled lips. Then, I tentatively meet his scarlet cherry lips and feel him open up to me, meeting Paris' tongue with my own. Our kisses grow deeper and longer, and I attack him ravishingly, unable to control myself.

"Wait, what about the movie?" Paris asks as he gasps for air.

"I've seen it a dozen times," I reply with a flirtatious eye roll, pressing pause on the remote before straddling his body, listening to Paris panting from the feeling of my muscular chest resting against his thin ribcage. He reaches his fingers up to my cheek and pulls me in close, whispering seductively into my ear, every syllable rolling off his tongue with delicate precision, "I'm ready, Gray. Ready for the next step."