Flick of the Wrist ↠Maylor↞✔

I18I - He makes me

~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆  ~ ☆ ~
• Brian's P.O.V •
~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~

Roger's thin lips perk out every other moment whenever a soft snore draws out from this throat. I don't know how he fell asleep in a position like this, his head on the armrest but face buried in his arm as his body is torso is slumped over my lap.

I remember how we got into this position in the first place, he was trying to take the pasta from my fork I happened to take just before him from the container of pasta we both shared and-
Here we are.

Last time I studied him sleeping, he looked so angry with his eyebrows furrowed and nose twitching like a little rabbit. This time his mouth is in the same position, but instead of looking mad, he looks more at peace with his eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly.

I can hardly believe that a guy like this has my name being spelled out on his wrist.

I take a look at my own, smirking slightly at the proud 'Ro' neatly placed there. I haven't told Roger yet, as I noticed after going off to the restroom sometime earlier and I guess I had forgotten after the pasta delivery came at my door and we turned on some Pawn Shop on the tv. He tried turning it up all the way, all the way up to the top mark for the volume.

After questioning him, I forgot what he said exactly, but some vulgar inappropriate joke I somehow had the audacity to laugh at.

I turned it down since then, getting lower and lower every few minutes so Roger wouldn't notice and end up screeching at me about it. Now the volume is hardly even on and I feel like it played a factor to him drifting off as a little pasta sauce is still stained in the corner I can see of his lip.

I've been waiting for the annoying moment of when Chrissie is going to walk through that front door and go around to see Roger here like this, more so mentally preparing myself than preparing to push him off or something. I want Chrissie to see, to make this so much easier. I never wanted to hurt her, and maybe that's the part of me that doesn't want to break up with her still.

It feels like I'm falling for Rog harder and harder that now I'm noticing the smaller things. Something as subtle as the way his nose is shaped, or even how long his fingernails are. Some weird fixation. And the longer I am with Chrissie while knowing my true feelings now is so painful.

I gently place my hand over his face to move aside some of his blond hair getting into his eye, probably why his lashes were fluttering so much.

I glimpse back up at the low screen, not even knowing where I left off as it's a completely new person selling some kind of baseball card. I watch, but I don't listen to that. Just the soft sounds of Roger's snoring nice and secure. I can't imagine what he's been through with Cory- whenever I bring it up he gets really defensive about it.

I hope he didn't hurt him, I don't think I would ever enjoy the thought of that and I don't know what I would do. Why would anyone want to hurt him? I understand he's tough and angsty on the outside but getting to know him he's so cool and nice- and has an adorable personality.

If I told Rog his personality was adorable though, he'd probably wack my shoulder.

Now instead of the redundant snoring, I was counting on, there is a low grunt, and Rog adjusts himself and squirms in my lap. Maybe he's finally finding how awfully uncomfortable the position is.

Hesitantly, seeing his eyebrows furrow in frustration I cautiously set my hand on his side rested up against my clothed legs and I scoot myself slowly down the couch trying to get Roger to turn his body the opposite way for him to be more comfortable.