Next shot, and I hope you continue to read!
~Fye
As our teens progressed, we grew closer, closer still. I grew tired of my popular girlfriend's company, as she was too particular. "Wear this, don't say that, don't look at another girl that way," and finally "Stop spending so much time with him." This was the last stroke for me. Not spend time with you? But being with you was like breathing, essential. I broke up with her that day, and although I cried you told me I did right. Told me I had a right to choose who I want to be with. That's true, right?
I began to spend more and more time at your house, to escape from the rest of the world. My parents allowed me to take a break from being normal, going other places so much, like they understood I needed alone time.
The first time I spent the night over was a memorable event. We weren't even touching, but under the same blanket still, your warmth was so good, so healing to me. I didn't mind that you breathed on me, or that you snored softly. If anything, it made me laugh. Before you fell asleep though, I remember quite clearly, you told me,
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight," I replied quietly, not looking at your bare torso.
"I love you," you paused, then added, unlike the usual 'bro', just plain "Marth."
My cheeks flushed when you said it like that, and I ducked my head, keeping silent.