Seventeen [boyxboy] ⚣

Chapter Seven: Connor

» Connor «

I feel like I'm about to explode. 

I took the bus, which was surprisingly not bad at all. As soon I got home, I went upstairs into my bedroom and I must've thrown my backpack way too hard since it made a loud sound when it hit the floor, but I didn't care at all. I am exhausted. I took off my tie, jacket, long-sleeved polo shirt and threw them all on the ground as well. I then immediately laid down on my bed and smothered my face all over my pillow. 

I haven't hung out with Zach alone since Monday, but tomorrow, we're going on a da—

We're going to hang out tomorrow. Hanging out; just the two of us, as friends, and nothing more. Plus, it's not unusual for two guys to hang out right? I mean, Axel and I used to hang out all the time before Zach even joined the picture.  But I'm not going to lie, something about this feels different to me. I don't see Zach the same way I see Axel. 

There's something about Zach that just makes me want to hug him.
. . . Wait, who am I even kidding?

I want to kiss him. I want to fucking kiss Zacharius Verne. 

I adore his smile, the way he speaks, his face, his figure, and especially his thoughts about everything. I adore his brain and the knowledge it contains. God, he's incredible. He's everything I want in a boyfriend, everything I admire, but I am aware that he does not feel the same way. And it's okay; he's straight and I wonder if he will still be friends with me—because I want to tell him about me—even though I have known him for just a week, I kind of trust him. 

But I'm scared of losing him this early. I'm not even close to fully knowing him yet, so I don't want to take the risk. I'm sure he's a good person and there might be a possibility that he wouldn't even call me out on it—but then again, it's very fucking rare to find a guy comfortable enough with his own sexuality that he'd not mind being friends with a homosexual. I'm so lucky I found Axel.

I probably should shower right now, but I don't have the energy to get up. So I just close my eyes. I sigh and promise that I'll clean my room and fix myself . . . after this short nap.
"I'm such a wimp." I mutter to myself.

A few minutes had passed, I was about to drift off to sleep when my phone rang. I wouldn't mind at all to check and answer the phone, if and only if, my phone was beside me, but it was inside my backpack and I'm kind of in the middle of fucking sleeping—so I just ignored it.

And then it rang three more times, followed by a couple of messages. 
I let out a frustrated grunt and got up from my bed and looked for my phone. I roll my eyes when I finally found it. The screen is cracked. Probably because some idiot threw the backpack on the ground way too hard. Damn it.