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Rough morning
All night Simon had eluded comfortable sleep, haunted by images of crowds laughing and pointing, or himself burning alive in the cauldrons of hell, of his family disowning him, forced to live in rags in back alleys where every passer by would eye him like he was some form of filthy little monster. But like a biological clock used to his early routine, his eyes snapped open at six o'clock sharp, the early sun rays barely piercing the graying skies. He found himself sticky due to the cold sweat caused by the nightmare, his pillow reeking of salt, tear stained. He had a head ache and felt like just digging himself a hole and lying in it. But, this type of mentality wouldn't change anything and he knew that well.
So, with a bad taste in his mouth, he wrestled off the sheets and sat up, glancing over to the neighboring bed. The sight of Haylen sleeping made him fresh memories resurface, faced anew with the actions he had taken the previous night, and it made him sick, sick to his stomach...far too literally and he ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him before he let all stomach content empty itself through the way of his throat, perched over the toilet for five minutes which, to him, felt more like an infinity.
When he finished puking in the bowl, he wiped his mouth the back of his hand, flushing before starting the shower, the bitter taste still too present on his tongue. Yet, the shower, he thought, would help remove that sensation of filth, and so he hurried himself under the warm cleansing jet of water. His ginger hair matted to his head, down to his neck as he face up the current, letting the water freely flow in his mouth before spitting the liquid back to the ground.
He began to ponder, question his own reaction. Why was he taking this so hard? Why was this such a trauma when back home, he had a gay friend? After all, he'd been supporting their cause all along. He'd never judge them, or so he thought. Sure, like all other guys, he always preferred not to hear the more crude details, but that wasn't an act of judgment, was it? If it was, to him, alright for everyone else to be gay, to have the orientation they wished, if he was able to accept them, why did it feel so wrong for him?
Deep down, he knew he wasn't as opened minded as he wanted to be, because of his upbringing. Just the idea of revealing himself to his parents triggered in him the wish to sign up for a "Curing the gay in me" camp. He knew it was ridiculous, even if his family would never accept him. What he feared the most, is that he might be forced into choosing in between happiness, and the people he cared for. One way or another, it simply felt like a dead end.
He had no idea how long he'd been thinking like that in the shower. All he knew, is that when he came out, he was as red as a lobster fresh out of the boiling pots. He wrapped a towel around his waist, quickly brushed his teeth before getting out of the washroom. There, he was faced with the source of his breakthrough, Haylen. The boy surely had awaken during his time in the bathroom.
He suddenly felt very self conscious and awkward, given his current attire, unable to hold eye contact for more than a moment.
"Erm....morning." he said in a rather hushed voice.
Before now he had always been selfish in thinking, but the idea now crossed his mind. What had Haylen thought of all this? Was it just fun and games for him? That's what he'd assume, but remembering how abruptly it ended, he couldn't help but wonder all the while he rummaged his drawers for fresh clothes, then slipping his boxers on at a record speed.
The rest was normally slipped on, and while he finished of sitting on his bed, putting on his socks, he tried to make conversation. After all, they would be living together for the entire school year. Now wasn't that promising?
"So did you, well, sleep alright?" he asked, still unable to look the boy square in the face.
Wow, I really feel like an idiot!
Haylen awoke to the muted sound of a shower, and with a lazy glance to his side, realized that Simon was using the bathroom. He snuggled against his mattress for a little while, waiting for the too-familiar sound of Simon's voice to interrupt his peace.
And there it was - a quiet morning greeting, followed by an inquiry as to how his sleep had been. "So did you, well, sleep alright?"
Haylen gazed upward, looking at Simon with sleepy half-lidded eyes. "No. I had one of the worst sleeps of my life." He groaned inwardly as he sat up, his entire lower half aching with the slightest of movements.
Ah, shit. I hate everything.
With the smallest of smiles, Haylen couldn't help but notice how... shy... Simon was being. He watched the other boy slip into clothes, finding himself a little disappointed at the fact that all that pretty golden flesh was being covered-
What?
No.
That was last night. One night. The end.
"I suppose we should come to terms," Haylen finally said, biting at his lip. "I mean, we are going to be roomates for all this time. It's not like we can just ignore..."
...last night.....
"...each other all the time."
Haylen dragged himself from his bed, unsure as to how he'd managed to re-clothe himself in boxers over the duration of the night, but ever thankful. He stretched his arms over his head, the tanned skin of his stomach rippling over his protruding ribs.
Yanking the door to the bathroom open, he began pulling his boxers down, peering over his shoulder at Simon before he traipsed groggily into the shower. He didn't even bother closing the bathroom door as he turned the spigot to cold, his body being pelted with bullets of ice-cold water.
It ran down every inch of his sinewy body in thin rivulets, tracing along his spine and dripping down his long legs. "Mmmn," he hummed contently, facing the stream of water that poured from the showerhead. The feeling of cold splashing on his face was so refreshing that he almost forgot about his dirty doings the previous night.
But as soon as the idea even passed his mind, he was bombarded with images and sensations that were rather undesirable at the moment. Simon's sighs, Simon's hands...
With a grimace, Haylen shook the thoughts from his brain, singing to himself to keep his mind off of things. He finished up with his shower and poked his head out from the shower curtain in search of a towel when he realized... there wasn't one.
Of course.
I have three options here. Drip-dry, try and sneak past Simon to get my towel on the edge of the dresser, or ask him to get it for me.
Without putting much thought into it, Haylen yelled as loud as his strained throat would allow. "Simon? Can you get my towel for me and just... throw it in here? It's right on the edge of the nightstand."
I hope this doesn't turn into a fiasco.
There was nothing else to do for Simon but sigh at the truth Haylen was voicing, though he had already made that fact clear in his mind.
"I know, I know." he whispered, not any more able to make eye contact.
All truth be told, he wasn't sure he knew why he was afraid of the boy. Was he scared he'd cave in again if he made a move on him?
Nah. It was just the moment. I got that over with. What I need now...
Staring at the ground he frowned, Haylen's shadow crossing his peripheral, and he drifted off in his own mind. What was it that he really wanted? It was a question that he seemed he hadn't asked himself enough. He truly didn't know. He glanced sideways, seeing the yellow light emanating from he bathroom's opened door as the sound of water falling reached his ear.
No, it's not just that.
Sex was just a reaction to his previous despair, which has milded with the passing night. He remembered why, when he came here, he was looking for a girlfriend. The one thing he wanted even more than that passion. He wanted what came from it. Someone to love him, like he was. To live life by his side. He wanted affection and romance, at least to a degree. He just wanted to live the regular experiences of boys his own age.
Damn, so a real gir...boyfriend.
He grimaced as the word crossed his mind. Boyfriend. Being one was one thing, having one, was a notion he'd have to get used to. And another truth faced him. How was he about to approach his newfound orientation? He wasn't about to go screaming it on the school rooftops, and somehow, he didn't imagine there was school out there that educated the 'new gays' on how to deal with this. And that gay radar they were all supposed to have....given he didn't even know this about himself, he judged his was severally damaged beyond repairs.
Now that's confusing.
A shout echoed from the bathroom and from instinct Simon just got up and grabbed the towel, walking over to the bathroom like it was nothing...until he was faced with the idea of a very naked Haylen, realization striking yet again.
"Oh god.."
Throwing the towel at the boy, he rushed out of the bathroom and back to his section, a little...or lot, freaked out. If guys can't go in a girl's changing lockeroom, was it bad for him to to be around guys changing and stuff? All those things that previously had been so normal would now be estranged to him. Handing another dude a towel should be nothing, nothing at all. But they were all "prospects" now.
"Damn!" he spoke in pure frustration "Why isn't there a friggin' manual with this stuff!"
And with a grunt he let himself collapse in a sitting position on his bed. How was he to face classes today in the state he was. A big ball of emotions. Curious and confused, relieved and trapped. It was a lot to take in at once, and he was scared, no, terrified. And being more in control of his inner pain than he had been last night, he was able to bring the usual pain killer: anger. He stood up and projected all his frustration on the boy, using him as his own personal stress ball and placing all the blame on Haylen's shoulders.
"Why, why couldn't you keep your mouth shut. I was fine being straight, really? I would have gotten over it! But noooooooooo, you had to go ahead and that pin cushion of yours and make a move. You're a freak. That's all. You know, I would have...I would have become normal overtime you know!"
There it was, his own admittance into judging. As he pictured himself standing there he saw his face turn into thus of his father and he felt nothing but hatred to himself. After trying so hard to stray from the clear marked path his family and friends had forcefully built for him, he was getting himself back on it.
"Damn!"
With a slump of his shoulder he let out a loud sigh. He hadn't truly meant what he'd said, and in all politeness he knew he had to at least let that fact know.
"Sorry. I just got pissed. Just, ignore me."
He wasn't about to admit that Haylen wasn't a freak though. Want it or the fact that he was angry at Haylen and blamed him wasn't a complete lie. He hated the manipulative approach the boy had taken, but he didn't want to hate him for being gay, or worse, blame him for knowing what Simon was.
There's something so invigorating about stepping out of the shower and into colder air - everything feels so crisp and fresh, every movement magnified and enhanced.
Haylen wrapped his waist in the towel that Simon had tossed to him, shivering pleasurably as his skin was kissed with the cool air. He was about to mumble something witty and self-indulgent until he heard the other boy ranting from the bedroom.
"Why isn't there a friggin' manual with this stuff!... Why, why couldn't you keep your mouth shut. I was fine being straight, really? I would have gotten over it! But noooooooooo, you had to go ahead and that pin cushion of yours and make a move. You're a freak. That's all. You know, I would have...I would have become normal overtime you know!"
Flinching as though the words had physically hurt him, a small sigh passed through Haylen's lips. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, unsure of what to do, and decided to wait for Simon to speak up again.
"Sorry. I just got pissed. Just, ignore me."
Haylen stepped carefully into the larger part of their dorm room, the well-worn grey towel barely clinging to his protruding hipbones. He tilted his chin up, settling down onto his bed and not really caring when the towel lifted and revealed a dangerous portion of his thigh.
You little show-off.
"Hey," he said, in a tone a bit softer and less taunting than what he normally used. "Listen, okay?"
Seems like I've been telling him to 'listen' a lot lately.
Hm.
What can I say, I'm direct.
"This whole... thing... that we have going on. It was just one night. I don't want you to go crying home to mommy about how you slept with another boy. I don't want you to think that we have anything 'brewing'. I don't want you questioning your sexuality - though it was rather evident that you, uh, didn't particularly mind last night's happenings..." Haylen trailed off, staring blankly at the wall behind Simon's head.
Spit it out.
Stop being so A.D.D.
"Ah, sorry. Got distracted by how friggin' boring the wall behind you is. But seriously... just..." he paused. "Don't let it be the thunderstorm on your parade. Think of it as... a.... learning experience. You might be one of those kids who's used to having everything handed to you, I dunno - but no, there's no damn manual. There's no instructions that come with life. Get used to it."
Harsh.
Haylen stood from the bed, the towel falling precariously lower to perch on the very bottom of his hips. He smirked slightly, his smoky eyes grazing over Simon's freckled face.
"And if you ever say that being queer is 'freaky' or 'abnormal' ever again, I will make you swallow your teeth, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with it, trust me. I'm sure you'll learn that it is just as fantastic as being... straight... or whatever you've convinced yourself that you are."
Haylen Vega is the biggest jerk in the world.
It works, though.
I'm not about to be sunshines and rainbows for this kid.
Well, maybe rainbows-
Haah. Not funny.
Haylen walked in the room while Simon was already feeling like he was munching on guilt by the spoonful. It was a reality he was really struggling with. Why oh why did he have to say that type of thing to a guy which was obviously proud to be what he was? He couldn't even stand the sight of him right now, his green eyes wandering just about anywhere else in the room before clumsily making his way to the edge of his firm mattress, silking the burgundy comforter before sitting down.
"Hey, Listen, okay?"
Already complacent in the pool of his self defeat, there was little more than he could do other than ruffle his ginger locks while nodding subtly, focused on the foot he perched atop his left knee in a way that gave impression he was trying to look through it.
"This whole... thing... that we have going on. It was just one night. I don't want you to go crying home to mommy about how you slept with another boy. I don't want you to think that we have anything 'brewing'. I don't want you questioning your sexuality - though it was rather evident that you, uh, didn't particularly mind last night's happenings... Ah, sorry. Got distracted by how friggin' boring the wall behind you is."
Simon had listened, attentively without as much as flinching or twitching. If it wasn't for the light regular heaving of his chiseled chest, he could have easily been mistaken for a wax puppet.
It's not that easy, it really isn't. It's not even all about the whole being gay thing.
Everything still felt quite chaotic, and taking more from what Haylen was saying only enhanced his current state of confusion. But he knew he'd survive it. It's not like he'd been fully altered, stopped being a regular person after all, and he proved that too himself with a very, very regular...and stupid reflex when Haylen stared and mention his wall: he looked back even though he already knew the boy was speaking of the bareness of the white wall while his was already plastered in posters of many sorts, which he hadn't really yet paid attention to. Returning his gaze to his oh so fascinating foot, he breathed a mumbled:
"I'll fix that soon."
"But seriously... just... Don't let it be the thunderstorm on your parade. Think of it as... a.... learning experience. You might be one of those kids who's used to having everything handed to you, I dunno - but no, there's no damn manual. There's no instructions that come with life. Get used to it."
This time he broke his discomfort and shot a glance to the dark chocolate haired boy which merged glaring and perplexity.
Like I didn't know that...
Is wishing a sin now?
He didn't dare voice another insult, or any kind of harmful word. He was hurting himself just as much, and quite frankly, it was starting to feel very pathetic. And even if the guy really was an ass, there was no need to lower himself to that level.
He couldn't keep his eyes on the boy long though for when he stood up the towel that served him as minimal decency began to slip, if just a little causing a rippling effect, Simon now noticing the left over moisture on the flawless tanned skin, the few dripping locks of hair against the very defined lines of his neck and collar bone, the way his abdomen moved as he took a bit of a step forward... he had to look away, his insides fluttering like a mob of loose butterflies.
Ooooooh weird.
Like it or not apparently I'm attracted to this guy.
Ugh. I have no taste, he's a jerk.
His fingers twitched against the burgundy comforter which was starting to become a nice match to his darkening cheeks. He bit his lips to remove the thoughts in his mind, and the visions flickering behind his eyes to let Haylen's new succession of words sink in... which he regretted almost instantly.
"And if you ever say that being queer is 'freaky' or 'abnormal' ever again, I will make you swallow your teeth, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with it, trust me. I'm sure you'll learn that it is just as fantastic as being... straight... or whatever you've convinced yourself that you are."
He might not have flinched before but he sure was doing so now. His shoulders tensely curved forward and his head lowered in shame, emerald eyes wide as he forgot the butterflies and looked to him, cornered and on the defensive.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I was an ass I didn't mean it.. It just , I blurted it out because well like you said, I'm spoiled and used to having everything easy."
Didn't want to say that either.
Not true at all, but I guess it beats having to explain anything.
I don't really want him in my head or knowing me that much either
He stood up to face Haylen, nearing the guy to look him straight in the eye, get the sincerity of his words across, hoping to have a bit more of an impact.
"I never had anything against gay people. I just, I guess I never thought it for me alright? You're not a freak because your gay, I didn't mean that."
You're a freak because you're you.
The thought felt very tasty on his lips but never left them. Instead, he just stood there, in the uncomfortable proximity and waiting for a proof that he had been believed on that point. It did hold some kind of importance to him, and he even bared the strange tension quickly thickening to get this confirmation.
Damn...I want to kiss him again. Why can't he answer me any quicker that I can go back and get rid of these crazy thoughts of mine...
"I never had anything against gay people. I just, I guess I never thought it for me, alright? You're not a freak because you're gay, I didn't mean that."
Haylen raised a brow at Simon, running his spindly fingers through his wet mop of hair. Judging by the tone of voice the other boy had used, he'd wanted to spit something else out, too, something else far more venomous.
Because while being gay apparently didn't make Haylen a freak to Simon, something else did.
Aaaannnd... I am about to find out just what.
"Oh, Sy," Haylen chuckled darkly, letting out a low sigh. He loved how the kid's nickname felt as it bubbled in his throat, rising to the back of his mouth and rolling like sugar on his well-practiced tongue. "Sy, Sy, Sy. I need you to tell me something, then."
Making it a point to exaggerate his movements, Haylen stepped forward, his entire torso swaying to the right and then to the left as he advanced closer to Simon. Soon there was but an inch between their two bodies; Haylen's bare and slicked with water and Simon's safely covered in a cotton shirt.
But not for long.
"Tell me.... what is it that makes me such a freak, then?" He placed a firm finger against Simon's lips before the boy could oppose, digging his nail into soft pink mouth-flesh. "No, no... don't tell me. I'll give you some choices, and when you figure it out, let me know in... whatever way you wish. But no words allowed."
Aaaha.
Playtime.
Tracing his knuckles along Simon's jawline, Haylen softened his voice a notch, letting his eyelids droop and mouth slacken. "Let's see... what could your definition of a 'freak' be? Is it like the dictionary?" He paused, biting his lip. "Freak... part of speech: noun... a person who has withdrawn from rational behavior and activities to pursue a certain obsession."
I swear that was a little whimper I just heard.
Haylen licked from the tip of Simon's chin to the knobby center of his collarbone, a pleasant warmth humming in his chest. The redhead's skin was hot and sweet, something Haylen wasn't quite used to. His usual... toys... were grimy and overworked and tasted and smelled like cigarettes.
Mommy, Mommy, you should see how pretty my new toy is this time.
I know you would hate him almost as much as I do.
"What makes me a freak, Simon? Is it this?" He swiftly grasped at Simon's shoulder blades through the thin fabric of his shirt, jerking his hips up to grind against the other boy's in a rhythmic motion. He was too busy selfishly reveling in the delicious friction to even notice if Simon was reacting.
Grabbing idly at the bottom of Simon's shirt, Haylen shoved his hands underneath, his fingernails scraping against the skin of Simon's abs and chest. "How about this?" He crouched down, bending his knees so that his forehead was level to Simon's navel. He didn't care that his towel was just barely hanging on to his hipbones, and didn't hesitate to nip at the hem of the taller boy's shirt, lifting it slightly with his teeth. He shut his eyes, rubbing his cinnamon-freckled cheek against the exposed skin of Simon's belly.
Haylen dragged his lips in circles along Sy's muscled stomach, reaching up and looping his fingers into the beltloops of Simon's jeans and holding tight as though it would keep the both of them in place. "I could do this all day, you know," Haylen murmured against warm skin, peering up at Simon from his low-down position. "Back home, I even got paid for it."
And then I paid for it, too.
"Eventually you're gonna have to give me some kind of notion as to just why I'm such a little 'freak', otherwise we might have an unfortunate repeat of last night's dramatic events - which I know I'm not really up for, but apparently you are..." Haylen smirked sorely. "So I'll just keep at this until you let me know."
Not that said task is a problem.
Simon wanted nothing more than to just back up and keep the small distance between them. Apparently, his little plan to get the message across had backfired, and the last thing he knew he was blocked by his bed, unable to back up while Haylen neared him to a point of discomfort. It was undeniable, the desire that still lingered, but even as unexperienced as he was, he knew that this HAD to be purely physical, and he'd have to fight it off, somehow. It just felt like he lacked the strength to, and he sure wish in this moment he himself was the type of jerk who could, conscience free, just push him off cursing, call him insane and walk away. But that was just not something one could do in society, even if it was evident that Haylen was having a little bit too much fun in this...
"Sy, Sy, Sy. I need you to tell me something, then."
Sy's eyes were looking at the fluid motion of his lips as he spoke, a mixture of dread and yearning building quickly at the core of his chest.
You do..
"Y.."
The words failed to leave the vicinity of his thin pinkish lips and he shot the darker boy a questioning glance. Everything about Sy spelled confusion. As the devious boy kept on playing his little game of charade, Simon tried and tried in vain to stop his breathing from speeding up, but the sight of the lustrous tanned skin, the mischievous silver gleam in his eyes, the nearing scent of natural musk and the feel of his warm breath... the only fight he managed to put, or answer he could give was a low whimper, a wish for this to be over, and a wish for it to start over.
I can't.
I shouldn't...
Oh...god!
The sensation of the Haylen's moist mouth on the line of his neck shattered every piece of barrier there was, and he found himself back in the twister of desire and taboo passion. In a twitchy motion, he brought his hands behind Haylen, feeling the smoothed skin, the lumps of bones and marks of the past, digging in his fingers to stretch the tissue in a powerful massage. His head tilted back, heaving out a loud breath before his "partner" began to lower, and lower, and lower. Blood raced through his veins and he looked down, adrenaline pumping and his hands quickly making way to the dark mass of hair beneath, marveling at the shivers growing from the moist collisions playing on his abdomen.... until...
"Back home, I even got paid for it."
It was a time stopper. Simon's eyes shot opened with a shocked and horrified expression to them, his mouth gapping as he failed to hear the next sentence.
The boy's a hooker!?
I'm sleeping with a hooker!
There was no way this could go on any further, and it wouldn't be difficult to stop anymore, every ounce of sensual anticipation completely vanished, his adrenaline switching to a complete defensive mode. With a powerful set of hands, he grabbed Haylen by his slender shoulders and pulled him to a complete standing position before moving him away. His green emerald eyes were sending accusations straight in his silvery ones.
"The hell it will. You want to know why I think you are a freak? Because you don't care, about anything, that's why. I can't believe you're a freaking hooker! I can't believe I did anything with you! Being gay is one shock enough, but that, that's too far. No way. That, won't happen again, keep that in mind."
The idea that Haylen might try to spurr up another game ran through his already infuriated mind and he thought wise to add some level of security to his new found personal space.
"And if you try to come near me again I'll clock you, got it!?"
This was not how he normally reacted, and it felt weird to be this harsh, and even violent and he was known as more of a compassionate soul. Yet, the anger had to be vented. The message across, he settled to his bed with a science book, figuring focusing on something useful might help settle his mind back again, and maybe even get his school ahead as a bonus.
Haylen almost laughed.
Almost.
"But Simon, baby, I'm not a hooker," he growled, lunging forward and grabbing Simon's chin from where the boy sat on his bed. He leaned in and exhaled harshly against Sy's cheek. "I can friggin' tell you what a hooker is, I can show you every dirty move that every one of them uses, I can describe how they smell and taste and sound - and none of it will match me. Trust me, I'm far better."
He let go of the redhead's jaw, but not before planting a sloppy kiss on his pink sandpaper mouth and letting out a sultry moan. "You're lucky you had me for your first and not some filthy callboy from the street corner," he breathed, storming to his side of the room and rummaging through his pile of belongings to find some clothing. "I despise you."
Tugging on boxers, a pair of pale grey drainpipes, and a skintight pink tee, Haylen was far too infuriated to even send another glance in Simon's direction, let alone face him.
I really do hate him.
"You know, you're an ungrateful little bastard. I helped you discover a rather important part of who you are, and was more than happy to cater to your dusty needs, and you proceed to shove me away and tell me that you'll turn my face concave if I come near you again." Haylen shook his head, an ache building in his chest.
Oh, c'mon, now I'm just being self-righteous. And a bit of a martyr. Mhm.
OH WELL.
"I don't need you to beat me up. I already have someone back home who will gladly--"
Haylen stopped dead in his tracks.
He never spoke about his mother's oh-so-darling 'boyfriend'. The one that spent nearly every night in their house and happily took out his frustrations on Haylen with his fists. He hadn't even allowed himself to think of that awful man since he'd arrived at boarding school.
He began to feel a little nauseous... but more angry than anything else.
It was as though a fire had been released within his chest cavity and was licking furiously at his throat and heart, prompting him to lash out in a rather vicious manner. "You know what, Simon? I can't friggin' take you anymore! You and your idiotic manners and your 'oh-I-am-just-mister-nice-kid' façade... you make me so, so angry.... shit-! Why are you even here? I can't believe I'm even talking to you, I can't believe I even let you near me.... my god, I hate you so friggin' much...!"
Haylen refused to believe that the stinging feeling in his eyes was caused by saline. He wasn't crying. He was just mad.
"You know, I generally dislike people, but you? You're on a whole new friggin' level, kid," the dark-haired boy spat, vision blurring with tears of outrage. "I hate you..! I don't even know what to think of you, you know? One minute you're tangled in my sheets and the next you're throwing me away! Either you're confused or you're just another person who can't stand me... and if you genuinely hate me, good! Join the crew! There's a friggin' anti-Haylen fanclub back home, why don't you just go play with them? Go play with them and their stupid false realities and hollow hopes for the future! Go be unrealistic and spoiled with them, and hate me all the while!"
Shut up, just shut up, you're making yourself look like an idiot...
"Because, you know what?" Haylen shouted. "I seem to be the only one in the whole damn world who is actually realistic, and look where it's gotten me...! I'm just a teenage kid wasting my money on clubs, alleyway parties, and cheap, dirty boys, and the only way to make it back is by selling myself... obviously I'm not gonna be going anywhere anytime soon, so maybe you're right to hate me with every fiber of your being."
Self-pity, oh, how I loathe you.
"But don't you worry, pretty boy, the feeling is mutual."
Wiping at his warm-wet eyes, Haylen swiveled on his heel and stormed out the door, heading off to his class in the English and Creative Writing room.
If human bodies could produce electricity, Simon was brewing a thunderstorm the second he felt Haylen's bony fingers strongly closing on his chin. With a loud thud his science book was slammed shut and he glared at Haylen to close face, rage building quickly as his excuse was changing nothing, only making himself sound in midst denial.
He never expected the oncoming kiss and failed to counter it in time, left with little more than pursing his lips while fighting rising disgust and acid crawling up his throat, before pushing each other away mutually.
"You know, you're an ungrateful little bastard. I helped you discover a rather important part of who you are, and was more than happy to cater to your dusty needs, and you proceed to shove me away and tell me that you'll turn my face concave if I come near you again."
You're lucky I haven't yet.
If anything Sy began to believe than any more anger would literally burst him in flames, his fists already clenched in apprehension, just in case he'd come near again.
"I don't need you to beat me up. I already have someone back home who will gladly--"
Apparently whiplash isn't only the result of a car crash, and that statement is exactly what gave it to Simon. Immediately, his fist became unclenched, his fingers reddening from the release of so much tension, and his face became a vision of dumbfounded with a slightly gaping mouth.
Every knew crescendo of Haylen's outburst made him twitch, like a reaction to a direct attack. He was now seeing the boy under a new light and felt very, VERY guilty that he hadn't even tried to see the reasoning why before. Why...why was he so strange, why was he so cold and cruel in every move he made...it was obvious. If you don't expect anything of anyone, they can't deceive you right? He'd seen it before...though not at this level. And yet, that was only the surface of it. Apparently Haylen had his plate quite full, and Simon realized he'd only provide to that menu. It made him sick to his stomach to realize how much of a jerk he'd been.
Only after the door slammed was Simon able to break free from this boy-meets-truth trance, whispering a low "Haylen...", only too late.
I just made a dude cry.
That's a new low for me.
A little hollow and exhaustion from the emotional Holocaust he'd live through the past few days, he figured maybe it was best to get distracted and go to class after all. Looking at his schedule, he saw literature as the morning start up and sighed in content. This should do, after all, he always did enjoy writing as a stress relief. Taking his bag, he headed to the English and Creative Writing Room
