Wallflower

I've always been this way. For as long as I can remember, I wore simple white silk gloves to protect my soft skin from the germ-infested world. My mother had frowned upon it, and my father had called me a wimp, a pussy, and worst of all, a faggot. I hadn't minded, not knowing what the words meant. But when I learned, it grew worse.
I had been homeschooled by my mother most of my years, until the last year of highschool, when she died by suicide. I was forced into the school program, and that's where I met him.

His appearance, I didn't mind. Hell, I had been gay since forever. His natural black hair and lightly tanned skin appealed to me, along with his sex as hell black-rimmed glasses, which I could tell were expensive, and his lean, slightly muscular figure. His green eyes, though, were the best part.
It's his personality that really bothered me. His arrogant ways, his selfishness. The moment I caught in, and realized he was doing it all to mess with me, of all people. It's only when he began lingering longer with me after class, his eyes sparing moments of the day to watch me, observe me, that I realized he returned my attraction. I could have been wrong, but I knew for a fact he wasn't staring at the sexy lass beside me. No, it was me his eyes always landed on.