We were kissing.
We were too lazy to get up off the couch and walk ten feet away to the doorway with the mistletoe hanging from it, and, instead, opted to stay snuggled up together, wrapped in the warmth of a blanket and bathed in the light of the living room fire. Kissing just made the moment so much better.
I have mastered kissing since being with him. He always managed to snag my lips at any given moment, whether it be in the janitor's closet at Middletown High or in my bedroom just one staircase away. Every kiss was better than the last, it seemed, on his part and mine.
He wrapped his skinny arms around my neck, dragging me in further, and tilted his head to deepen it. Don't get me wrong- I was the more dominant of the two of us! He was just demanding. I didn't mind though. Who would ever mind having a kissing session with the love of their life?
I set my hands on his skinny waist, holding him where I wanted him. He was already basically in my lap. My fingers felt the fabric of the cute, slightly-too-big, black sweater that I had given to him hours before. It had adorable little Jack Skellington faces on it, but he hated it. I knew he would, but he agreed to wear it just for today.
After all, it was Christmas.
Our kissing deepened slightly; he straddled my lap like so many times before. I was afraid we were going to get caught one of these days, but he said I was being stupid: "it was close to midnight," and, "everyone should be sleeping." He was right; everyone should be sleeping, but we weren't. I pulled his hips closer to mine, hoping for some action if anything.
But then, he pulled away.
He looked at me, smirking, with that mischievous twinkle in his eye. See, he has always looked a little evil because of his creepy red eyes. Yes, I said red eyes. It sounds weird and super sketchy at first, but there is a perfect explanation as to why my boyfriend has red eyes. His parents both had the recessive gene of albinism in their DNA, but since they were heterozygous, they didn't lack the pigment melanin. However, my boyfriend was homozygous for the recessive gene, and he received albinism.
In other words, his parents were not albino, but he is. And that gives him the ability to have red eyes.
However, he kind of hated the fact that his hair was pure white, along with his skin, so he dyed his locks a beautiful shade of black. And now, he was like a dark angel, or maybe, perhaps, a demon might better suit him.
His name was Severin Bianchi. But his nickname was Severus...because Harry Potter, of course. He adopted the nickname after his family moved over to America from Italy, where I made him into a dork. I was his first American friend, the first person he came out to, and now, his first boyfriend. But, back then, as his friend, I had to make him realize that wonderous wizarding world of Harry Potter existed. I made him love it...maybe not as much as I did, but he still loved it. Who couldn't love Harry Potter?
Nevermind, don't answer that. Two people immediately popped into my head.
And those people happen to be Severin's parents. I didn't know their names, and I didn't really care. Mainly because they believed that Harry Potter contained "black magic" and that no Christain soul can read such "garbage." I bet you can probably guess why I, of all people, was the first person Severus came out to. Anybody who bashes Harry Potter like that, shouldn't be trusted.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth as he spoke. I looked into those red eyes. Yeah, they definitely looked evil, and they did not lie. Severus could really hurt someone if he wanted to. I have seen it myself. It was really odd to see him fight most times because Severin is tiny and like a skinny twig...but underneath his baggy, black graphic tees were strong muscles. In his mind, a strategic and quick-thinking brain. The kid was small enough to move fast, light enough to jump high, smart enough to know when to strike, and strong enough to land a hard punch. He had never killed anyone, but if he did, I could call him a killing machine. Because he was definitely capable.
"About you," I sighed, "And your parents. And how they don't like Harry Potter."
He chuckled. I loved hearing him laugh. See, we were complete opposites. I was the goody-two-shoes who wanted to become something great and change the world. He was a trickster and troublemaker who wanted to lie low and stay invisible for the rest of his life. He got a kick out of pretending to be someone he's not, then revealing who he truly is weeks later.
Like how he pretends to be a shy, gay, emo, skinny American boy, then baits in bullies, before kicking their butts and cursing them in Italian. That's one thing I love about him: he only fights for good. Like a secret, infamous and un-masked superhero defending the halls of the most bully-infested high school in Texas.
He rested his head on my chest, which made me so happy. I loved when he got affectionate with me. It was so sweet, seeing how most other people just received glares and short answers. No, I got to see a different side of him that no one else sees.
I watched him as he watched the fire. It was quiet and peaceful and relaxing. That is, until...
"Don't get mad at me," he said suddenly. Oh no. What happened now? I have never liked this start to a conversation. I was going to say something to explain the irony in what Severin had just said...However, instead of saying something sarcastic and quippy I decided to be serious this time.
"Okay..." I replied. It was the best I could do while my mind was preparing for the worst.
"I might have gotten myself into some trouble, " he elaborated a little more. When does he not? I thought.
"And this is different because...?" I urged. Severus seemed on edge, which made me on edge. Because Severus was fearless, and if he was afraid, I should be afraid.
"Well, I may have angered um...Silas McCallister," Severus explained, "And I think I might die."
"Oh my god, how much did you 'anger him'?!" I whisper-shouted, after all, people were asleep upstairs, "That guy is a rich pyscho! He could pay a freaking killer assasin to murder you and leave no evidence!"
"It was no big deal!" he defended, "He called me the word. And you know what the word does to me, Aaron."
Oh God, not the word. It starts with an f and ends with an -aggot and it really rubs the wrong way on Severus. It gives this spark of anger gasoline and lets it burn half the world down. I have never really learned the real reason why he hates that word so much, but he does. And when he hears it, even more so gets called it, you better get ready to see all hell unfold in front of your eyes.
"Oh God, " I said, "Oh God, what did you do?"
"Ah, I may have beaten his face and his pride," I could hear Severus wince as he spoke, " And I may have called him some not-so-nice names that may start with W, B, M, and A."
"Oh God," I repeated shakily. Silas was the new transfer student, who, surprise surprise, was a bully! However, I had specifically told Severus not to mess with Silas because he's rumored to have killed a guy. Not that I know that it's true, but he transferred for some reason. And he went to court for some reason.
But my chivalrous boyfriend just couldn't hold back from saving all of the bullied kids in our school from their evil-doers. And there were a lot, seeing how, in my school, it was either bully or be bullied. That's how you survived. I was once bullied myself, but I never really cared. The bullies eventually got tired of me, because I was boring. I'm one of the very few who are in the safe zone, unlike my daredevil, dear Severus, who just kept throwing himself to the sharks by angering them.
Bullies can be seriously dangerous to deal with sometimes.
I admire Severin's bravery, but I worry about him. Especially about a guy like this.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming from inside the house somewhere. We both froze solid at the sound, listening. I forgot to mention this before, but the fireplace was the only thing lighting up the room, as well as the house, therefore it was freakin' scary to hear footsteps walking around the house when everyone should have been asleep.
We didn't make a noise.
It was as if our instincts told us to say perfectly still, as to not let anyone know we were there.
Oh God, I remember thinking, Is that Silas, coming to kill us?
Severin moved softly, slowly, subtly in front of me and my chest, as if he was shielding me from anything that would come out at us. I appreciated the gesture, but I didn't want him to get hurt either. Unlike me, watching him still as a statue, his eyes were trained on the darkness behind the doorway ten feet away from us.
Is that where the footsteps had come from? Where did the footsteps go?
I could see Severin's breathing hallow out as if he was trying to control it. Oh, so the boy could fight cranky bullies, but got scared when a bump goes in the night? I couldn't judge him, however, because I was probably even more scared. Practically paralyzed in every way.
From the darkness, I heard a shuffle, then a click, then more silence.
"On the count of three," Severin mumbled, barely audible, " Duck."
"Why?" I asked with the same quietness.
"Because that was the sound of a-"
BANG! The sound of a gunshot rang through the air, causing ringing in my ears, or was that the fear? Even though Severus didn't say "three", I ducked behind the arm of the couch, waiting to be approached and killed, covering my face with my hands. However, before any gunshot came, I heard my mom from upstairs.
"AARON?!" she yelled. I could hear her heavy footsteps trudge downstairs. Thankfully, I could also hear retreating footsteps of the shooter from the darkness. He was running away? From my mom, of all people?
Oh wait, moms can be really scary. I forgot.
I took his retreat as a sign to lift my face from my hands and look towards Severus. I was about to ask if he was okay...but then...I saw...a hand came up to my mouth in shock.
This isn't happening. It can't be happening.
From the corner of my eye, I could see my mom in her gown and slippers, out of breath from running downstairs to my side. She flicked on the lights and huffed as tears dripped down my face.
"Aaron, what is going on?! What was that noi...se..." She spotted Severin and gasped, covering her face too. I was on the couch, covering my mouth, tears on my face in utter shock.
I could not move. I could only watch as my mother walked over to Severin's body: cold, lifeless and paler than before. In place of his heart, was a bloody hole in his chest.
He didn't get me. He wasn't aiming for me. He was only trying to get Severin, I remembered thinking, It was Silas. It had to be Silas!
I couldn't move. I couldn't comprehend what was real or fake. I couldn't believe what had just happened.
And I still couldn't. All was muffled: my mom dialing 911, the sirens and lights outside our house, the doctor pronouncing him dead.
It was all a cloud over my head.
My boyfriend was dead because of a murderer. Because of a bully. Because of a gunshot wound.
And I could not have done anything to stop it.
From that day, age sixteen, I am just a shell of what I used to be.
Until I met someone who filled me just as Severus did.
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