The Fear of Letting Go (BoyXBoy)

Chapter Fourteen; Lucky

"Okay, okay, so, one more time. Let me get this straight," West drawled out, leaning forward on his sketchpad. He pointed his pencil towards me, pursing his lips in that cute way that just made me swoon. "The one who came to see you last night... that was your mother? A-And now, all of a sudden, she wants to just take you back home?"

Slowly, I nodded, juggling a Rubik's cube between my fingers as I tried to ignore the tightening feeling in my chest. Just the thought of what went on last night made me want to keel over. I struggled to sit still, suddenly feeling like I had just chugged a two liter bottle of soda. It had started off pretty easy to sit and pose but now, since it had been nearly twenty minutes since West started sketching; my back was starting to ache. My head lolled back onto the wall and I winced. West sucked his teeth, looking back down at his sketchpad. He pressed the pencil to the paper, stealing little glances up at me. "And so... now, she just wants you to come back to the Clary's tonight and have... dinner or something?"

I huffed.

"That's what Blake said," I answered bitterly, curling my lip. I rolled my eyes. "He said she wants to 'talk things out' with me. Like she didn't just show up out of nowhere and threaten to completely uproot me and the life that I've got here."

"Hm," West hummed, wrinkling his nose. He shook his head with a sigh and turned his attention once again to his sketchpad. He scribbled on the paper, teeth clenched in concentration, and far too close to the paper to see any details, I'm sure. I couldn't help the small smile rising on my face as I watched him, the Rubik's cube in my hands long forgotten. Finally, West pulled back from his sketch, cocking his head as he took in a final sweep of the piece. When he was satisfied, he straightened his back, a huge grin splitting his cheeks. "And I... am... done!"

He added in a few more things that I guess he felt like he missed, before flipping his sketchpad around and revealing what could only be described as the worst stickman in the world. Unable to help myself, I scoffed.

"I thought you said you were good at drawing."

"No, no, no, I said that I liked to draw. I never said I was good," West beamed, shaking a finger at me. I chuckled and he gave a heave of his shoulders, standing up from his desk chair. "Besides, it's not my fault. You kept moving."

I rolled my eyes as he tossed his sketchbook onto his desk lazily, making his way towards the bed where I sat. Rolling over me, he fell down onto his stomach, resting his head on my thighs. He peered up at me with those colorful orbs of his. "Do you want me to go with you tonight? I could-,"

"No, no absolutely not," I interrupted with a sigh. I shook my head and brushed his hair out of his face. I trailed a finger down the side of his face. "My mother brings out an awful side of me. I don't want you to have to see that."

West hesitated, blinking. A grin slowly crept up his face. "Liam, you-,"

"I know," I held up a hand, sighing dramatically. "I already have the worst attitude in the world. But trust me, okay? She makes it worse."

"That's kind of hard to imagine," He teased, leaning into my touch. I smirked at him, twisting a lock of hair around my finger.

"Thank you, though. For offering. I mean it."

"You don't have to thank me," He muttered, tracing his hand along my leg. "That's what boyfriends do. Maybe one day, I'll be lucky enough to actually meet your mom. On better terms."

I snorted, shaking my head.

"No... If you're lucky, you'll never have to."

West glanced up at me through hooded eyes at that but didn't reply. Instead, he sat up and pressed his lips gently against mine. I quickly melted against him, leaning into to the kiss. I sighed against him, feeling the troubles that plagued my mind start to fade away. I allowed him to lock his arms around my shoulders and drag me down to the bed, where he cuddled me to his chest.