Author's Note: Hey everyone this will be my first attempt at a "call me by your name" fanfiction. It is in first person so it might not be the same as the book. I'm still new to writing so please comment on what I can make better. Keep in mind that this is a first draft and when I finish this work of fiction I will edit it.
Side Note: I loved this book to death! I saw the movie first online, and then I had found out that it was playing a theater near me, so I went and saw it once again! I cried my eyes out on the ending! I even cried when I read the ending as well! But there might be hope; word is that the director of the movie has a sequel in the works for 2020, so fingers twisted! Okay, enough of me rambling please enjoy this work of fiction!
Disclaimer: I do not own "call me by your name" all rights go to Andre Aciman.
One
All I could see was endless white. White walls, white curtains that bellowed from the heated wind circulating in from the outside, the white-painted oak dresser leaning its weight against the whited out wall, and not to mention the white carpet, in which was lying flatly and cemented into the original wooden floorboards beneath. The only color in the entire room was the thin fabric of my red t-shirt and blue knee-length shorts; I'd covered my body with from head to toe in.
This endless white room had been my sanctuary for the past year. Where I stacked an enormous amount of notebooks and books on the oak dresser, where I stapled up the latest posters of bands and such – I could still see the signs the room had been lived in for the past year. The aroma of 50 second cup-ramen imprinted in the room, in which ramen had been my main source of sustainability for the price of ramen had been cheap to live on.
Yells of cheer came from ground floor from the open window. Another year finished, I thought. Only one more, I added. College had been what I needed. It hadn't allowed for my mind to be side-tracked. It hadn't yielded me time to become numb, to become lost. And if I didn't know any better I would say that it helped. The college I had selected had been out of the country in America. Being away from Italy and the summer house which Oliver and I had occupied that whole summer had allowed me to move on and mature, well I liked to think to myself on most occasions.
A few weeks before the semester ended, I'd received a letter from my mother detailing how she wanted me to return to Italy for the summer before the new school year started. I had written automatically including: how college life was and how I was doing extremely well in all of my classes, especially music, and even about my hesitant feeling of returning. Not too far after Oliver had departed in Rome, I had returned my parents in Sicily, in which both my mother and father found out about the romantic summer tryst between Oliver and I. Not too many parents would be so accepting of their son's love for the same-sex. If it hadn't been for the talk my father and I had following the end of that summer… I somehow knew that the decisions I would have made would have altered.
Following from a reply from my mother the words of love and encouragement made everything seem okay, like the worries I once had seemed to fade away. There was no hesitation. She even mentioned that my old bedroom would be the property of a professor at a college that was working on his manuscript, she even dished out that the man hadn't left his room the paper being more important than anything else.
I flicked the light switch off -automatically the white room became dark. Therefore, making my sanctuary to only consist in my imagination, because when I returned to Italy, I knew for a fact that not even my sanctuary could prepare me for the wreck of heart-break my heart would defiantly have to endure.
