Hi. I'd just like to say that until the end of this story, there probably won't be any exchanging of names. It's going to stay in first-person limited POV and all the references will be "I" and "you." I started by throwing the reader into the thick of things, hoping to ensnare an audience and leave you guessing while I backtrack to how it began and then press forwards to where it will end. I do hope you read it and give it a try. It's a lot different than anything I've ever written and going to be full of very *cough* colorful language and some choice words I've never been brave enough to write before. Hope you enjoy it despite the oddness of the style and my use of vulgar language.
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It's late. You're asleep in your bed; curled up among the blankets. I'm exhausted, but I can't fall asleep. I keep thinking about that look in your eyes when I shoved you away earlier.
My knees are drawn up to my chest and here I sit on my bed, staring into the darkness. I know how you sleep; we've shared this room for the past seven months. You're on your stomach, one arm under your pillow, the other clutching the satin sheet up to your chin. You sleep with your mouth open, your hair down loose around your face, making you look so innocent and not at all like the person who tried to violate me only hours ago.
But I know better. You can't fool me so easily. I know there's a monster asleep in that bed over there, masquerading as you. It hides in you, waiting for just the right time to come out, just the right time to make its presence known. It's an ugly demon; I see it in your eyes when you look at me and it whispers all the things it would like to do to me.
But tonight…I saw something besides just the demon. I saw this incredible longing I have never seen before; not at all in the seven months since I've known you. I've seen you around with all the others and I only see the demon then. Why did you look so upset when I yelled at you? They're all the same way; they get angry for your forwardness and tell you off. So why was it so different when I did the same?
I rest my chin on my knees, pulling my long braid over my shoulder with one hand. As I finger the end of it, I think about how this whole thing started; how you told me I was cute the day we met. You told me I was cute and I must have blushed to high heaven. You certainly know how to embarrass me; saying all the wrong things at the wrong time. I get flustered when it happens, even if you can't tell, but, for some odd reason, when I think about it later, I smile.
I haven't figured that one out yet. I know the answer is somewhere in the back of my mind, like I already know it, but I'm not sure I want to face that truth just yet. How can I, when it goes against everything I've always believed? I know I don't want to be like you…
I'm so damn confused.
And you're over there, sleeping peacefully, probably having all sorts of dirty dreams while I'm sitting here with you on my mind and you don't understand how much you affect me every day. It drives me crazy. I can't get you out of my head and I never once wanted you there to begin with.
Am I hopeless?
Hmm. A wry smile crosses my face at the thought of how we met when I walked into the room that first day. Surely you must remember…
It was August; hot and humid. The first day we could move in and you got there before me. I wandered into our room to find you sprawled on your bed, dressed in pale gray silk pants and a dusty pink button-down shirt which was, coincidentally, unbuttoned. Your shoulder-length hair was down loose and it spilled around your face. For a moment, all I could do was stare; I was certain you must have been a woman, my roommate's girlfriend or something.
Then I noticed you were lacking in certain proportions.
Hello, first impressions. Good-bye sanity.
You rolled over onto your stomach when you realized I was standing there, hair falling into your eyes. Your bangs were like a veil over your face, hiding your eyes and all the desires within. I couldn't see you under them, but you sure must've been able to see me because a dangerous grin painted itself across your face and I almost thought you would start laughing.
But you just lazily pushed your hair back over your shoulder and rested your chin on your hands. "Are you going to stand there all day? Come on; make yourself at home. There's no point staring; you'll have plenty of time to do that later."
But I still stood there staring until my father appeared behind me and pushed me into the room. How could I not stare, with you there in such a…I had felt my face heat up as my father looked at you. I wondered if he was trying not to stare as well. He gaped openly for a moment at you, then seemed to regain his senses, said something to me which I didn't even hear, then left the room again.
At this point, you were laughing. "Welcome to the real world, Kiddo." You sat up, swinging your legs over the bed as you jumped to the floor. You pulled you hair back from your face and up into a loose ponytail, allowing me to get a better look at who you truly are.
I remember thinking you had the palest skin I had ever seen. Summer had just ended, yet you were as white as a ghost. Your eyes are an oily black and they stood out from the rest of your face, glistening like black jewels amidst your delicate features. The way your hair, your eyes and that ridiculous lipstick you always wear were so dark, my first impression was that you looked as if you were dead. I thought you were hideous.
I guess I just wasn't used to you yet.
You stood before me, examining me intently. I remember the way you looked me up and down as if you were hungry and I was the meal. When your eyes came to rest on my face, that was the first time I saw it in you. The demon was there, grinning at me from the depths of your eyes. I wondered what you thought of me; average in every way except for the fact I haven't cut my hair in years. It was braided that day, as it always is, the braid resting just above my butt. I love my hair. Don't know why I decided to grow it out, but I'm proud of it. You reached a hand out as if you were going to touch it, then drew back, your gaze flickering once more to my face.
"You'll do." It's as if you sounded disappointed. "I guess it could be worse. You could be ugly, after all."
Ugly? My forehead had creased when I heard this, one eyebrow raising. Who's ugly? Not me…The girls always went after me in high school. I had quite the fan club and I had half a mind to tell you so. But for some reason, my mouth decided not to cooperate with my brain and what popped out of my mouth was "What, like you?"
I felt bad when I said it. Instantly, the demon left you and you were taken aback. Your mouth formed this little O on your face and your eyes went wide for a moment. Your hand rose to your hair, pushing your bangs from your forehead, and then you smiled again. "I can see we'll be the best of friends." How you came to that conclusion, I still don't know. But then you disappeared from the room, leaving me to wonder if that whole exchange had really happened or if you were some sort of hallucination.
My father came back into the room then, followed by my mother. "We moved the car so it's closer to the door. Let's get you unloaded so we can be on our way, Son." Dad peered around the room again, as if he were looking for you. When he realized you were gone, his gaze swiveled over to rest on my face. "Was that your roommate?" He sounded almost as if he would be sick.
I shrugged. "I guess so. He didn't even tell me his name." It was then that I knew you really had been there; my father and I would never dream up the same strange individual. I glanced over at your side of the room. Everything was set up already; your bed was made, your desk arranged with picture frames and books, your laptop, a coffee mug and some other random things that I assumed were essential to you in your life. A pair of sandals were neatly on the floor beside your bed; did you leave the room barefoot? I hadn't been paying attention. Everything about you is so intriguing. What are you, I wondered, that you're so capable to not care?
For the next hour or so, there was no sign of you. Mom, Dad and I were a flurry of activity as we unloaded the car and I began putting things away. They left after I was about half finished and things were strewn all over the room. You appeared again not too long after that, hair down loose again, the hair tie around your scrawny wrist. You have gorgeous hair; I thought so even then. Not as long as mine -nowhere near as long as mine- but smooth and shiny none-the-less. You obviously take good care of your hair. Sometimes I just want to touch it…
You smiled off-handedly at me, languidly brushing back your hair with the flick of a wrist. I couldn't help but notice how relaxed you were, even in a situation such as this. We didn't know a thing about one another, yet here we were, forced to live together for the next nine months. I was scared to death of you, but you just climbed back onto your bed, examining your bare feet like you had all the time in the world while I stood in the doorway, again finding myself unable to stop staring.
"What?" You spoke without even looking at me. Somehow, you knew I was gawking at you; you knew I couldn't stop staring. "Haven't you ever seen a gay man before? You're really cute, you know, but people are going to think there's something wrong with you if you stand around with your mouth open like that all the time."
My face flushed red the second your words registered in my brain. You were gay and I was cute…That was a bad combination. I suppose, looking back, it's better you weren't looking at me. You probably would have laughed at my expression and I would have been even more embarrassed.
So I ignored you and began organizing my CD collection. You looked up, watching me as I meticulously arranged them in order by most listened to, all of my favorites at the front of the CD case. It's an obsession of mine; I love my music and it's the only thing I make a more than half-assed attempt to keep tidy.
I had my back to you and I heard when you slid off the bed a second time; tensed when I heard the swish of your silk pants as you moved towards me. You were behind me in no time, looking over my shoulder and watching my every move. "You've got pretty good taste in music." Your voice was right in my ear and you almost sounded teasing.
I didn't say anything, just stared at the wall. The hair on the back of my neck rose; God you creeped me out back then. "You know," You went on, "You're my fifth roommate. None of them lasted very long. Some of them weren't comfortable with my…preferences." There was a small pause in the sentence, as if you were choosing your words carefully, "It doesn't bother you that I'm gay, does it?" You didn't bother to wait for a response, just went on anyway, "One of them insulted me and hurt my feelings so I got angry. Word to the wise, you should never get me angry if you have a desire to see your next birthday. I can be mean and nasty when I want." A sardonic laugh escaped your lips following this statement and I wanted to get away from you. I couldn't believe it; they wanted me to live with a psychopath.
I suppose, looking back, it was your way of being friendly.
"You're a freshman, right?" The scathing quality of your voice was gone, replace almost by joviality, and my heart resumed beating. "I'm a junior. This is my third year here and I hope we can get along better than my other roommates. There are a couple things you should know about me right from the start if you want to live with me."
I don't. I don't want to live with you; you scare the shit out of me. But could I tell you that? No…So instead, I nodded slowly, just so you know I'm listening.
"I like men. I already told you that. And I'm not a pretty sight when I get angry, so watch what you say and do. I really have no desire to hurt some one as attractive as you. I don't care if you have girls around, so long as you don't care when I have guys around. And if you have alcohol, it'd make me happy if you share. I like to have a good time." At this, I looked over my shoulder at you and you were smiling amiably.
There was something about your smile and the way your cheeks tinged pint when you were excited. It made you look almost innocent; like a little boy. I wanted to laugh suddenly, but didn't know how you would react to it. I was afraid if you thought I was laughing at you, you would get angry and I really had no desire to see you angry. So I looked aimlessly back at my desk and the clutter which had already accumulated on it, trying -as if it was possible- to forget that you were right behind me.
"What is the matter with you?" Your hand hovered just above my shoulder, but you didn't touch me. "You seem…nervous. Am I making you uncomfortable?"
I stared down at the desk, wondering what sort of expression was on your face. Were you amused? Hurt? Angry? Confused? I certainly didn't know what to think. You were like a riddle wrapped in an enigma and I couldn't figure you out. Usually, I'm a fairly good judge of character, but you… "N-no…"
"What then?" This time your hand found its way to my shoulder, resting there comfortably and I wanted to shrink back, but it felt nice. No one had ever tried to figure out what was bothering me when I was moody; no one ever asked me what was wrong. You knew nothing about me, yet you thought it was you making me uncomfortable? You didn't miss a thing. I suddenly started to laugh, my shoulders shaking beneath your hand.
"What's so funny?" I finally looked over my shoulder to find you with a perplexed look on your face. You looked so confused that I laughed harder, removing your hand from my shoulder. Your palm was warm against mine; you may have looked like a corpse, but you were very much alive. Your eyes danced with laughter, then you cracked a grin. I'm sure you must have thought I was insane.
"Maybe you're right." I had smiled at you, "Maybe we can be friends. You're kind of crazy, but it's nice."
I smile now too, thinking about that. They say first impressions are the most important and I certainly had an interesting first impression of you. Even though I wasn't quite sure what to make of you, I was certain you meant me no harm. Even when you looked at me with that lusty expression on your face, I wasn't really afraid. It was when…
You shift slightly, mumbling something in your sleep, sighing contentedly, and my smile widens. You're happy. I love when you're happy. It makes you so much fun. You and I have become quite the duo over the past months, haven't we? It might seem like you're the leader and I follow your example, but more often than not, I'm the one who gets us in trouble. I'm "spirited" as you say, full of youthful energy. You're more laid-back and have a whatever attitude. So we usually do what I want to do…Which includes parties, keggers and bashes. We've had a blast together so far and I think you're the best friend I've ever had, in spite of your peculiarities. You're always willing to do the things I suggest, even if they seem a little stupid.
Sometimes, I wonder if you would want to do the things I don't suggest.
Sometimes, I wonder if I would really want to do the things I don't suggest.
You make me wonder too many things about myself.
Far too many things.
