MELODY

MELODY 40

┏ 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 ┐

When he came out of the shower, Jackson was busy scrolling through his phone, a small furrow between his eyebrows. Standing there, he stared at him like he had never seen him before. With his relaxed posture and the way he looked sitting there in his bed— a strong wave of happiness almost overwhelmed him. When those dark eyes met his, the air between them shifted. Just a tad but noticeable enough to have his heart skipping a beat. And when that beautiful smile crossed his face, he almost stopped functioning.

How could someone be this enchanting?

"You can take a shower," Bryan said, clearing his throat. "I think I have a few oversized shirts you can use."

"Fine," Jackson said as he got out of his bed, dropping his phone carelessly on the sheets.

Bryan smiled, opening his cupboard to find a shirt and a towel. He hesitated as he looked at the pants. He finally found one of Adam's sweatpants that the man had left behind and had forgotten to take back. Huffing an amused breath, he took that as well, handing all of them to Jackson.

When Jackson went into the bathroom, Bryan took in a deep breath. Moving to sit on the bed, he grew a little restless. Sharing a bed with the person he liked was nerve-wrecking. He didn't know how to act.

It was then the phone next to him caught his attention. Grabbing Jackson's phone, he moved it to the small table next to his bed so it wouldn't get lost or be accidentally sat on. Just as he was about to move back to sit against the headboard, the home screen lit up. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the wallpaper.

It was a picture of Jackson and Leah. But they were both wearing school uniforms, both looked younger than they did now. And a message that caused the screen to lit up was from the woman herself.

'Hey, can we meet up soon? I need to talk to you.'

Bryan took a step back like he had been burned, his chest tightening.

Of course Jackson would still be friends with her. From what he had heard, they were friends. Yet... he couldn't help the acidic feeling from bursting within him and covering every inch of him. The idea of Jackson going to see her without him knowing was— he hated it.

He hated it.

He furrowed his eyebrows. The fact that he wanted to hold Jackson close to him, to never let him go near Leah— that feeling was massive. Overwhelming almost. And he hated the darker part of him that liked the idea of keeping Jackson away from her. Because he had no right. They were friends.

And even if they were something more... he couldn't ask of that from the guitarist.

He had to trust Jackson.

Closing his eyes, he forced his body to shift away from the table. Sitting against his headboard, he ran his fingers through his hair.

The doubt of being used as a replacement for Leah crossed his mind. It... hurt. Because what if that was what they were? What if Jackson had confused his feelings for him? Adam's argument now made more sense when he thought about it. When there was uncertainty between them, what was to say the reason Jackson stuck around was because he needed a rebound?

No. Bryan, come on. Jackson wouldn't do that.

As if he had summoned the man, the guitarist walked back into his room, wiping the back of his head with the towel; the shirt and sweatpants looking good on him. And the tightness in his chest loosened a little when those dark eyes were warm to look at.