imperfectly blue [poly bl]

01 | rookies n cookies

OKAY, SO MAYBE IT WAS A BAD DECISION. But him, in general, was a bad mistake that just so happened to come with added goodness. It was like a refreshing lemonade on a hot summer day. He still feels like the magic remedy to the bitter, cold parts of my life.

"It's raining, Mr Wren," Clark invites me into his home, his arms outstretched with a fluffy white blanket to bundle me in like a baby. "I don't want you to catch a cold, especially when the summer holidays are just around the corner."

I smile in remembrance of Clark's chiding, like whenever he had ushered me to somewhere secluded just to give me one of his handmade gifts.

"I'll be fine, Clark. I'm just hoping the weatherman lied today because I forgot my umbrella." Water was dripping from every part me, the flimsy raincoat not providing much protection.

"I don't think so," He tapped his chin in thought, something so simple that seemed so attractive. His soft brown orbs flicked to mine, looking up through dark lashes. "You can always stay the night...sir." He slowly added the second part, a suggestive undertone paired with it.

"Clark, please..." He knew what I meant. The sir's, the prolonged time he held me in his arms when drying me off with his Spongebob towel, everything I should not be letting happen.

Clark's face went pale as he pressed his lips together, his chocolaty eyes glossy. He moved closer to me, his arms extending to envelop me in what was once his soothing bear hugs. "Just let me take care of you, Wren. I didn't-"

I waved off his suggestions, "You signed up for tutoring, right? That's the only reason I'm here."

I didn't hate the boy who wanted more from a fling, I hated my selfish self for not being enough.

The delicious smell of baked cookies drew my attention to the open plan kitchen where a tiny brunette slaved over a sheet of freshly baked cookies. "Sorry I didn't come to greet you, Wren, I was preoccupied with eating other...cookies." Mackenzie batted his lashes my way, the corner of his red-painted lips curled up in a smile.

"It's nice to see you, Mackenzie. Ready for the chemistry test next week?" I tried to divert the topic to Mackenzie, allowing me to move away from the tempting dangers of Clark and to the safeness of the tiny baker.

Mackenzie shook his head, letting out a small scoff as he bit into one of the chocolate chip cookies that had cooled down already. "Please, that test is going to be the end of me." He grumbled out, his face cloudy until something close to recognition dawned upon him. "Wait, can you tutor me too?"

"I mean...I could?" I whispered out hesitantly. I was only giving Clark a one-time session for his phycology test, and if I were to give Mackenzie lessons that would mean coming back to see him. "I don't really know how to teach chem though."

"That doesn't matter, Wren." Mackenzie motioned for me to open my mouth, shoving half a cookie in. "Chew. Maybe we could have a study group instead? I know Sawyer works with polycarbonate."

A tall ginger confidently strode into the kitchen, plopping a warm gooey cookie in his mouth. "Sawyer does work with polycarbonate, but Saywer does not go to university, Mackenzie." He said through a mouthful of cookies. The open-mouthed chewing irking me greatly. "That being said, he -meaning I- can't help out with your buddies. Sorry, love."

Sawyer seemed around twenty-four or five, his stocky build framed with broad strong shoulders. Not only is he muscular, but he also seems domineering, like he could have the whole room focusing on him and his big, rough hands. But his obnoxious eating while speaking thing was a total annoyance.

"Sorry, Mackenzie, I have to agree with Mr Sawyer."

"Sawyer." The owner of the name cut in, biting into what must be his fifth cookie. "It's just Sawyer."

My brows furrowed in confusion, "Is that not what I said?"

"It is, just no need to say Mister...it's too cold," He brushed the crumbs off his tight crewneck, as he thought something over in his head. Looking up, his hazel eyes took on a darker brown as he concurred, "we can figure something out. Anyways, have fun, Mackenzie. Keep in line, Clark."

Clark rolled his eyes. A subtle action that got him an authoritative look from Sawyer. "I'll keep in line, Mister."

Mackenzie, on the other hand, beamed up at Sawyer, pressing a gentle kiss to the man's cheek before continuing with his baking.

Clark and I retired to the sofa, silently setting out the psychology notes. Throughout setting up the desk, I had subconsciously lined up Clark's pens in rainbow order and my own in alphabetical order of scent. I was about to shuffle them about so Clark wouldn't notice my old habit, and if he did that would mean the flooding memories of us.

"You still have your old habits," I hope you're not a mind reader because right now I want to suffocate you with a burden of memories too! "I remember when I got you the art set for your birthday and I accidentally dropped the paints so when you put them back in you sorted it by colour. And with the books too, those are all put-"

"Put into genre, model and colour." We said together, something that surprised him more than myself. I hadn't changed much over three years.

"I'm guessing you haven't changed much," he's definitely a mind reader. "But that's good, you've always been good." He nervously said, wringing his hands in his lap. I could feel him mentally facepalming, and I know I mentally facepalmed too.

"I guess that's a good thing?"

"Yes. Yes, it's a good thing! You're always a good thing. Crap, I'm trailing off, I'm sorry." So, he had changed. The confident, heart-stealing vanilla boy had grown into an awkward conversation starter. Or, maybe it was the awkwardness of sitting in front of a summer fling. "Wren, do you ever think of me?"

His question startled me. "I... I do, sometimes. I hear about you every now and then and sometimes that gets me thinking about us, but then... thenI remember you're the past."

Ouch. That was cold, Wren.

He turned his face away from me, casting his eyes downwards as he softly said, "Would you ever think of making me your future? Like the good kind?"

"Erm, I'm sorry, I think I went prematurely deaf." The professional composure I had tried to retain crumbled to the deep depths of embarrassment quicker than the falling of the Roman Empire. "Are you asking me to be spring-season stand?"

His face flushed red, his head shaking from side to side as he clambered for words. "I'm asking if you want to maybe give us a try again? But, before you say anything, I need you to listen, okay?"

I nodded my head, feeling more than just Clarks eyes on me.

Mackenzie butted Clark's hips with his own, knocking him to the floor by his own surprise, "He's double dickin', peace."