Madison's POV:

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play.
Now I need a place to hide away-

I turned off my Spotify with the realisation that moping around listening to sad 60's Beatles music wasn't going to help me any. It had actually been Thomas who introduced it to me originally, and now he… I didn't even want to think about it. I was nothing but kind to him, and then he repaid me by playing a horrible prank like that. Sure neither of us were truly in the right- that speech had been a little overkill and storming out of a cinema foyer made me quite the drama queen, but I felt as if I had been unfairly manipulated, that my emotions had been toyed with, all for what? A dare?

I had thought I meant more to Thomas. I had thought I was a good friend, even a best friend. I had no clue why he would just throw it away like this.

Jefferson's POV:

Monday morning. Loneliness. Sorrow.

Okay that's just a little melodramatic, but I knew that Madison was angry at me, I wasn't sure why, and if I saw him angry sitting by himself at lunch I thought I might just start crying. Crying isn't something I did often. It's a sign of weakness, a sign of vulnerability, a sign of being average.

My first two classes were geography and mathematics, then I went to go sit in the library. Where I was sure he would be. Where I was sure I would have to apologize.

Madison's POV:

Thank god that didn't last long.

Jefferson approached me in the library later in the day, looking less than content, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he was going to apologise.

Jefferson's POV:

"Hey, James. "

"Hey…" He looked down, not wanting to meet my gaze. He must have known what I had come to do next.

"Look, I just want to say that whatever happened on the weekend was just a big misunderstanding. I think you're really cute, I think I might even have a crush on you… but I would never in a million years pull a prank on you that would hurt that badly. Even if you don't want me to be your boyfriend, can't we be friends again? Mon petit ami?"

And that was when it happened. He looked up at me, he looked into my eyes and he saw everything. The sadness, the loneliness, all the pent-up emotion I had been hiding behind them. Then it was his turn. He looked up at me with those beautiful eyes of his and I saw a single tear trickle down his child-like face.

"Thomas, if you're serious, and if this… if this isn't some cruel joke, some laboratory experiment, if I'm not just your little social guinea pig… I love you. I love you, and I have since nearly the day we met. Your smile, your messy chicken scrawl, your voice like a cool breeze on an unbearably hot summer's day… I love you. You make me feel like I could move mountains and hold up the sky. You make me feel as if I mean something, as if I matter. As if I have a purpose. You're like a Lady Gaga song and a safety blanket and a conversationalist on all in one. You're bold and you're funny and you're outgoing and-"

I cut him off right there. "Okay Shakespeare, point made. I realise I'm awesome. "

And then, the most incredible thing happened. Everyone was watching. Time stopped as this perfect, tiny little bundle of joy tilted himself forwards, right on the tips of his toes, and I kissed him.

Madison's POV:

It was big and it was bright and it was beautiful.

Like two colours of Play-Doh in the hands of a three-year old Jefferson and I collided. He kissed me. Time stopped, all at once, and it was a feeling that was nearly indescribable. Perfect, yet so imperfect. Nowhere near acceptable. Nowhere near normal. Nowhere near the boy I used to be, so worried and afraid. So scared and alone. Now I didn't care what they thought of me. Now all I could think was him. Jefferson. He tasted so sweet, in among the bookshelves. It felt so wrong, so despicable yet I found myself being drawn in towards him. I could feel him there, and the world was so cold but he radiated heat. It was all him, everything came back to him.

I probably didn't kiss him right. I had never kissed anyone, ever. Honestly afterwards I felt as if I should have been worried that I would somehow mess up, get it wrong, pull away too soon or not soon enough. Sometimes I was awkward like that. But maybe it was the same for him. Maybe he understood the feeling too- that feeling of unease that comes with new experiences, regardless of whether they're enjoyable or not.

And then it was over in what seemed like no time at all. Finished. Gone. Done with. The bell rung and we walked to English class together. His hand was warm in mine. He looked at me, and smiled. Thomas was all smiles for the rest of the day. He was all smiles for the rest of the week. I even saw Jefferson pinch himself at one point in time. But I doubt he felt the amount of pure joy I did at finding such a good friend, and losing them, but then gaining such a perfect boyfriend.

Neither of us really knew where it went from there- I guess I should have mentioned that Thomas never went on a second date. He had never been a part of anything long lasting. Had, past tense.

That was the story of how we got together, Thomas and I. How we nearly lost it all but picked up the broken pieces just in time.

He saved me, that day in the library. He saved me, that day in the art room. I don't know what I would do without him. Maybe I was overly dependent on him, sure. And he could be the most annoying, judgemental piece of magenta filth on this planet from time to time. But he was MY annoying, judgemental piece of magenta filth, and no number of bigoted homophobes could change that.