Gays With Guns

451

Noah took the last bite of his waffle, his eyes meeting with Oliver's. A sweet grin formed across Oliver's face, Noah always looked pretty. He admired Noah's forgiveness and empathy for him. Empathy had always been the hardest emotion for Oliver to wrap his head around. For whatever reason, though, the boy sat at the table made everything easier.

"Alright, let me show you around." Oliver stood up and watched Noah follow him around the estate. Noah had seen most of the downstairs area, but it was still stunning in every way possible. The ceiling looked like it could touch the sky, and there was still a whole second floor to explore.

"This is my favorite room on the main." Oliver nodded and pushed open a door disguised as part of the wall. Noah watched and curiously peeked over Oliver's shoulder. It was an in-house library. Two big chairs sat in the middle of all the shelves of books. Noah loved to read, so this was his heaven.

"Go ahead." Oliver chuckled and stepped inside, Noah close to follow behind him. There were lots of paintings and statues in the room. Noah was busy admiring all of the different art and sculptures. He especially loved the guardian angel statue, the detail to it was incredible.

"Who is that?" Noah asked once he had roamed over to a portrait of a younger woman. "She is pretty." Noah acknowledged, tilting his head a little.

"It's my Grandmother. She used to live here with me, but then she died. I was her only grandson." Oliver solemnly told Noah, sighing quietly. Ever since she died Oliver felt like he was drowning, and needed somebody to pull him out from under the water. Noah could do that for him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Noah frowned when Oliver said his Grandmother wasn't around anymore. He didn't want to ask how she died, but he was interested. It would be rude to ask, though, so he kept his mouth shut. Noah knew how that felt, almost all of his family cut contact with him for being gay. He missed his mother the most, he was forgetting what she looked like all those years ago.

Noah pulled a dusty cover out of Fahrenheit 451, opening it up to page one. He had read the book many times, and he treasured each moment of it. People just don't write the same these days. Noah liked the noise of the pages rustling around, asking to be read. The eagerness to start a new chapter. Sometimes a novel wouldn't even last him a day if he had nothing else to do. For Noah reading was like music to most people, a way to block out surroundings and travel to some imaginary world.

"What've you found?" Oliver questioned, hearing Noah rummaging around. Oliver never read much, he just wasn't good at it. His grandmother loved the library though, and it reminded him of her. That's what made it his favorite room in the house. She was different than his other family members, she understood him.

"Fahrenheit 451! It's my favorite book of all time!" Noah geeked out slightly, hugging it against his chest. It had been so long since his last read, he missed it. "What's your favorite book?" Noah chimed in, swaying from side to side while he listened for Oliver's answer.

"I don't really read that much. I have this thing called dyslexia, it makes it really hard for me to do that." Oliver gulps, he doesn't want to tell Noah something is wrong with him. What if he shuns him for it? Oliver's dyslexia was the main source of his bullying all through elementary school. He had always been two grades behind his reading level. Once he got expelled from his school and went to the mental institution, reading was the least of his priorities.

Noah shrugged, not understanding the severity of Oliver's reading problem. "Well, we can read it together if you want." Noah offered, joining Oliver in the love seat as if its nothing. He feels Oliver's rough hands wrap around his waist and sigh quietly. "What is it, Oli?" Noah poked, feeling Oliver laugh quietly at the nickname.

"I can't really read," Oliver murmured into the other's ear, sounding defeated. Noah's eyebrows furrowed together, it was hard for him to wrap his head around the concept of it. "I used to be able to. But now I just don't, its too hard." He explained softly, playing with Noah's hair.

"I can read for you!" Noah demanded, he wanted Oliver to know all about books. It's like he was missing out on a whole other world, and that made Noah feel distressed for him. He flipped open the first page, cuddling up to Oliver in the seat. He was so comfortable and warm all the time. Oliver waited silently for Noah to start.

"It was a pleasure to burn. It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history."

Noah beamed once he saw how much Oliver was already enjoying the story. Those that kill together stick together.