Jimmy loved Chels full-heartedly, but he had to admit that this was pretty fucking stupid.

He has found himself sitting at a table for two, at a pub having a Poetry Night, and what an awful, awful time it is.

Poetry Nights were something that Jimmy would go to and enjoy when he was a Uni student, but there are way too many things that Jimmy liked and enjoyed as a Uni student that he wouldn't dare to do now. But still, here he sits, in a moodily lit surrounding filled with drunks, passionates, and maybe a few cynics like himself. It's hard to be the better man when you forget you're trying.

The dark haired boy was zoning out already, as a girl on stage was rambling he seemed to be focused on the edge of the table he was sat at. There was apparently another hour worth of this, which will be lovely, won't it?

He didn't really expect it when his overall quiet friend grabbed his arm. Jimmy looked over at Chels, who looked at him and then looked at the stage. Understanding her intent, he looked up at the stage and almost gasped, shocked.

What he saw was a sight that could probably make him laugh if this person knew he was here, Charlie McDonnell on stage, holding a piece of lined paper with his always shaky hands, looking reasonably anxious at this moment.

"That's him, isn't it?" he heard Chels mumble. Jimmy nodded, keeping his eyes on the stage, suddenly interested, because Charlie was a writer, but he wasn't a poet, at least that's what Jimmy knew.

Charlie looked out towards the crowd, probably seeing who was watching and whether they were interested or not. Jimmy felt lucky that he took a seat in the way back, cause maybe Charlie doesn't really want anybody to know about this. The slight pinkness in his face shows that he would probably like to perform this in a mask.

After the silence that seemed to last forever, Charlie finally spoke into the microphone, "This poem is called, Oh, Curly-haired Boy." Charlie cleared his throat after this, and Jimmy saw his neck move as he swallowed. It made him want to go up and give him a hug, he had seen Charlie nervous before, but never like this.

Charlie smiled before he started, building a fake confidence, Jimmy assumed.

"His hair is curled at the front of his head. Though he tries to hide his eyes, I can still see the smile contained within them

His eyes are a piercing blue that see right through me . His eyelashes are long and thick, though I can still see those beautifully pained eyes

He is a walking, aching dream, just a hand away. Oh, curly haired boy

When will you be mine?"

Jimmy could feel Chels' eyes burning into the side of his cheek, and honestly, he didn't really like it, but he knew that she was thinking the same thing that he was. Jimmy didn't like to assume things, but he did it a lot, and if he were to assume anything at this moment it would be that this fucking poem sounded a lot like it was written about him. His eyes left Charlie, and he felt himself blushing for no reason, like he thought that everyone in this room knew that the poem was about him too.

"I just want to get my hands tangled up in that hair

To feel the little escaping curls

I want to lose myself in those ocean eyes

Worth more than diamonds to me

I want to know every secret that lies behind his heart

I want to know his future

And maybe if I am lucky to be a part of it.

Oh, curly haired boy

You exist outside of these poems

But in every single poem you are mine."

At this line Chels gasped, like she was realizing just how badly Charlie seemed to be infatuated with this boy. Jimmy wished he could save this poem in his mind to listen to later, to hear the sentiment of it all, but right now all he could think about was how ill his stomach was feeling.

"You are just a kiss away

An arm away

A curl away

Oh, curly haired boy."

And with that, it was all over. Jimmy heard the small applause as background noise, all he could think about now is how he was supposed to fucking approach this situation now.

Charlie's figure walked off the stage with a proud little smile, it headed off into a back room, probably buzzing with sickening nerves.

"We need to go, like right now," Jimmy felt himself say to Chels without realizing. She nodded anyway, they gathered themselves together and exited, a silence between them.

Chels wouldn't leave it alone though, of course she wouldn't. "Did you like, know at all?"

"No." Jimmy's response was curt, as he suddenly wished he was all alone.

Chels nodded again because she's patient and lovely. Eventually Jimmy broke, knowing that he wanted to talk about it. "I just- I don't know. I always just thought he was straight, and he always seems so happy and content with his girlfriend. It makes me feel guilty..."

"You don't have to feel guilty, it's Charlie's feelings." Silence again.

"...But I guess it kind of showed," Jimmy started quietly. "he always, like, stares at me. There was some kind of tension there, like he was obviously attracted to me in a really non obvious way."

"And you never like, poked it? You never acknowledged it at all?" Chels curiosity bloomed, as she was exploring the chemistry of this relationship.

"I flirted with him sometimes. I think that's why I feel so guilty..." Jimmy words trailed off into something unintelligible, but it didn't matter.

When Jimmy eventually returned home, all he could really think about was sleep, and Charlie, and how good both things sounded at that moment.