Shit. Where the hell is my laptop?
It's not on my desk. Or in my closet. Or anywhere under the bed.
There are footsteps in the hall. Then a knock on my door.
"You looking for this?" Brendon's voice flows into my room.
"My laptop?"
"Yeah. Can I come in?"
"Sure." We're doing normal. We're friends. And friends can hang out in each other's rooms.
It's not like I'm thinking about him on my bed.
Naked.
It's not like I'm obsessed with his dirty drawings.
And the smell of his shampoo.
And all the lines of ink that wrap around his arm.
My heartbeat picks up as he opens the door and steps inside.
He looks the same as always. Tall. Broad. Stoic.
He's wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt. It hugs his shoulders. It offers a peek of the roses tattooed to his chest.
I can't decide what saying I want on his chest.
Live so you can live.
Remember your mortality.
Seize the night.
Nothing comes from nothing.
Save me and I'll save you.
That's a hopeless fantasy. No one is saving me. You can't fix the ways I'm broken.
But he...
He could love me anyway.
It's possible. In theory.
He moves forward. Sets my laptop on my desk. "Forty-five minutes to go."
"Yeah. I should prepare."
"You need to prepare?"
"Sort of." Technically, no. But I want to be ready.
"Did you eat dinner?"