"So how did our boyo react?" Marie smirked as she commented, keeping pace with my long strides, despite my subconscious attempts to leave the conversation behind. She didn't deserve to be ignored, I was simply not in the mood at the time for her proddings.

"As one might expect, Marie," I said nonchalantly, hoping to dissuade her from inquiring any further, but she seemed hell-bent.

"Sooo...does that mean he got it, or...?"

I looked away silently, lips in a line, "I do not know, Marie; he wrote little of interest on my paper." As far as I knew, at least, for my eyes had skillfully avoided reading any of his commentary. I'd say I at least tried to, but that would be false; I was...worried. I did not wish for anyone to catch me in such a compromised position, and thus, I avoided the triggers.

"Yeah, well," she sounded resigned, "I know what your paper was about. Wanna hear about mine?"

Glad to have another topic to latch onto, I nodded curtly, and she went on about what made her 'happy.' To be quite honest, I was glad to hear about her passion for the canvas, illustrations and the like. I held tight to her words as she spoke, and enjoyed the glow she gave off, as I avoided my own worries. But, occasionally, they peeked their heads out and a stray thought would make me blink.

I felt the softest of raindrops hit my neck, and looked up. Marie stopped talking once she noticed, and groaned.

"Alright, guess we gotta cut this short. I better get home before a downpour starts. Seeya later, tough guy!"

I did not respond, but it was rare I would. Instead, I continued home, for I was only a few minutes from it. The musty scent of the mostly-unused house caught me once I left the petrichor. The shift from the smell of rain to this was unsettling, but it was a reminder of my life. I closed my eyes defeatedly the moment I closed the door.

Fear comes in all forms, but pain is the reality behind it. We do not fear that which causes no pain, and I knew his words...they could. For some time now, I felt free to express myself upon the safety of loose-leaf, and now a boy had come to judge me. A boy with no right, a golden path in life and little weight on his breast that was not petty and trivial. But all the same, my heart thumped when I thought of what I'd written. To him. And if he knew.

Of course he knew.

I steeled myself, and broke the fear with practiced numbness. My seat on the couch was taken, bag placed on the coffee table as I slid the menacing, judgemental paper out, complete with separate inks. My heart bumped, and I took a deep breath, for I felt nothing, I told myself. I required the commentary for the sake of writing something acceptable for the teacher. My creative writings were not favored by those preferring formal, and that was Mrs. Rhodes to a T.

Most of his comments were similar; too wordy, dumb it down, reading an essay not a dictionary. That last one almost made me laugh, admittedly. Quite true, but I did not care when I first took to paper with my words. As I read his blunt commentary, I felt the strangeness of a smile upon my lips, and was reminded of the subject. I had nothing to fear, after-all; it was all in my head. A mind game.

Softly, the doorbell rang.

I looked up at the door as though expecting someone to enter, but there was silence. It was such a late hour; was Father expecting a package? Who else could be visiting at this time? Marie would simply enter through the back.

All these possibilities ran through my head as I approached the door, unlocking it carefully.

Opening it, I found a certain red-haired boy, shoulders heavily dotted with rain. I stared at him, befuddled, expecting an explanation, but none came. The rain was subtle, but I watched as every drop fell upon him, unable to make him move. He looked up at me, finally, and I cast him a confused look, head slightly tilted. He bit his lip, and I found myself rolling my eyes. I moved to the side, and gestured him inside. He happily obliged.

Closing the door once more, I found that Kevin carried the scent of rain on him, and immediately turned to lock the door. How quick I was to become embarrassed, I thought, allowing the back of my hand to smooth over my warming cheeks. I did not face him when I turned, instead passing him to return to the couch, sitting and holding my hands. I looked up at him curiously.

"...Yes?" I finally said, the tension of the room not lessened by the soft drumming of rain on the roof.

"Uh, hey," his hands went immediately down to his pockets.

I growled, my lip rising in slight frustration, "Did you need something? Or did you simply forget your home was across the street? This is not a rain shelter, Mr. Barr."

"Hey, I know that, I - uh," he blinked, and he seemed to come out of his daze, freezing as he continued, "I...just...had something to ask you okay?"

I decided to humour him, "Oh? And that would be?"

"The - the thing on my essay. That you wrote, on it, I mean."

I toyed with the band on my wrist, "Why yes, Little Red, I am in fact aware of the things I've written."

He huffed, voice deepening, "My name is Kevin..."

Our eyes met, but the fear in his eyes at saying such a thing to me was overshadowed by a touch of rebellion. Frustration. Maybe a little bravery, if I could hope?

I decided to prod it.

"Oh, really now? All I see is a lost boy in a little red cap strolling through his day, praying the wolves don't catch him, always taking the path most-travelled and playing it safe-"

"Fuck off, asshat, you don't know me."

If he didn't look so cold and angry, I might have smirked. But as it was, his hands having moved to hold his arms, I felt a touch of pity. Beating an animal when they are down, whether by illness, chill, emotion, none were worthwhile.

I sighed gently, shifting over to the side a slight amount, looking back up at him. He both wilted, and strengthened, under my gaze. My shoulders relaxed at his passion, and I spoke, "Sit. I won't have you catching a chill as my guest, no matter how foolish your reasons for coming are."

I could feel the bite in his gaze, and I felt a breath escape my nose in amusement. Slowly, however, he came to my side, and sat. I was relieved he did not choose to sit on Father's side, but I assumed it was only out of habit, and not respect, or even caring. He was rather upset about something, and I hoped he would voice it rather than exhaust me with these foolish little spats we had.

His eyes were resting on the essay I'd left on the table, but I kept my gaze on him. It took him a moment to realize I was staring at him, and when he did, he blushed. It was...endearing. He squirmed, seeming to want to say something. I was content just being next to him...and that mere thought made me turn my head away. I was too close; too close.

"Were you...writing about me?"

The room was tense, but the pattering on the roof was calming. I turned my head further away, rather than respond. I did not see his reaction.

"I...what sorts of..." His voice trailed off, then softened, "What...sorts of things don't you say?"

Gradually I turned my head, catching his hazel eyes, and being caught in them. I wasn't certain what to say. I think...he could tell.

"...You're not really an asshat, are you?" The relaxed manner in which he said that caught me off-guard, but my face betrayed nothing. He narrowed his eyes, "See? There it is again. You're pretty shit at hiding it."

"Oh?" I quipped, pulling my head back defensively, fingers curling over my leg. I wanted nothing more than to hold the arm of the couch, to give me something to hold onto, but I did not want to show weakness. I was not weak, after-all.

"Don't 'oh' me, you know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?" There was an uneasiness in his eyes, and I felt myself move back further, but he pressed on, "You talk like you know everything, like nothing scares you, but that's just it. It's all fucking bullshit, isn't it? It's all just some game to you, and I'm just some fun thing for you to mess around with every once in a while. Is that it? I bet all these things you write are just to make people feel sorry for you..."

"Kevin."

"No, this is bullshit, I'm done playing these games. Tell me what you want with me, and then I'm so over this."

"Kevin Barr."

"No, fuck you, man."

I thrusted my palm forward into his chest, knocking him down onto the couch, "No, you listen, you rebellious little -pup-," I accentuated the word with my lips, "there are..." I stopped, looking into his fearful eyes for a moment before I felt my courage leave me. My fake, necessary courage...

I felt weak.

"...things. So many, many things that you can not even begin to comprehend, about me. And I speak them, but only just."

Kevin stared at me, but I could not return his gaze. I held my hands together, squeezing them.

"And I thought...foolishly...that you heard me..."

I closed my eyes.

"...I guess I was wrong."

The rain was settling, and I didn't hear, or feel him, move. I focused on my breathing, and stayed still.

A shift.

The rain slowed further, barely audible. Minutes passed.

When I felt something touch my hands, I jumped, intaking a sharp breath as my eyes shot open. I saw Kevin's hand over mine, but he pulled it back immediately. I couldn't bare to look at him, instead, looking at the floor with empty eyes.

"S-s-sorry," his voice jittered, but I didn't look back, "I didn't mean...I'm..." I heard him swallow, and saw his hand clench from the corner of my eye, "I just...you fuck with me, you know that?"

I gave the slightest of nods.

"Yeah, you do. I figured as much...but what's with this? This essay? And...and other things, like the scars," I immediately felt self-conscious of my wrists, pulling my arms closer, "I just...a few weeks ago, I thought you were just some jerk who got joy out of messing up my day. But now," he sighed, "now I kinda just wanna know why you're like that in the first place."

Weakly, I looked back at him, but there was no malice in his eyes. He stared at me as though I were a riddle, and I suppose I was. I almost wanted to speak up. Almost.

The silence drew him to continue, "The things you wrote on my paper...they're all true. I mean...Nazz has been trying to get me to stop being so afraid for, what...years now? But when even you say it, it kinda...makes me feel pretty stupid. Even the wolf is telling me to stop being such a pansy-ass, huh?" He chuckled at himself, and it was strangely comforting, "So you can't be all that bad, can you?"

I didn't respond.

"...Yeah, kinda figured you wouldn't say anything. Look, sorry about before. I've been kinda stewing in this all day and I...shoulda known better than to open my big mouth."

"It does tend to get you in trouble," I remarked idly.

He laughed, "Yeah, yeah it does..."

The silence took hold again, but he was smiling now. And I felt like, were I not bound by so much in my life, I'd have been smiling then to. As it was, I barely managed to lift my gaze. And my gaze fell upon his hand.

I reached for it, and took it. It felt cold within my own, but my fingers laced with his...and his laced back.

He allowed it.

I looked into his eyes, a rogue blush having crept onto my cheeks, only to find his cheeks were a dashing red as well. His smile...

I wasn't sure, but, perhaps, I was smiling. It felt like it, but I couldn't be sure until I saw his grin widen.

"Your eyes..."

I blinked in confusion, barely tilting my head in response.

He squeezed my hand, and I felt a rush of butterflies run through me, "Even if the rest of you is hiding, you can't hide your eyes, can you?"

I let out a soft chuckle, barely able to be considered a laugh, and my cheeks warmed further, "I...suppose not."

"Yeah, well, I like it." And I heard the unsaid words, and I like you.

He did not have to say them, but it warmed me. My eyes locked with his, but any courage I had was long gone. I was exposed before him, though hidden in wristbands and threatening clothes, and I was at his mercy.

He was tantalizingly slow. Every inch lingered for long seconds, and I heard his soft breathing as our faces neared. I watched his eyes, how they nervously darted down to my lips, then back up, then down again. It was enough to make me smile, to spur me on, but I had taken his first kiss; I would allow him to take his second. My lips parted the slightest amount, and his tongue rolled nervously between his. It was...cute. A mere inch apart...and I closed my eyes.

I was no stranger to his lips; I still dreamt of them, their softness, how their touch remained long after he was gone. But he was in control now, and guided the kiss nervously as I never could. My free hand found its way behind his ear, tracing the curve of cartilage, making him flinch. He did not part, though, for several more seconds. And when he did, he left with my breath. My heart was warm, even if my smile had faded. His hand still held mine.

I blinked my eyes open, and saw the beautiful expression on his face. Timid, but excited. I missed the feel of his lips, but I did not rush him.

I had earned his kiss, I realized...but I still had to earn more.

The room was gloomy with the overcast light of the passing storm, and it was tiring me. I was tempted, for a moment, to lean back and close my eyes...when another thought crossed my mind. I closed my eyes, but instead, I took a calming breath, and leaned to my left. My shoulder connected with his, and my ear rested against his shoulder. I felt him jump...but he didn't force me away.

He didn't say anything at all. He just sat there for a while, until, eventually, I felt his head rest upon my own. I felt the rim of his cap through my hat, and though it was strange to feel...it wasn't.

It all felt right, and -I- felt right.

I...I felt...alright...

And when he left a long while after, we didn't say a word, but our eyes spoke volumes.

He smiled at me before he left, and I wanted to smile back, but I couldn't.

But I think he knew.

And in the back of my mind, I feared what else he might see.