“That’s what everyone always say,” I hiss, trying to keep quiet because I’m worried my frustration will show through my voice. If my parents wake up they’ll ask even more questions, wait, that might be a good thing. He shouldn’t have to put up with that, his parents should get in a shit ton of trouble!

“Seriously,” Preston argues, grabbing my wrists to pull my hands from his face.

Oh shit, I was still holding his cheeks? Suddenly my hands feel like they’re on fire and my cheeks start to match them when I realize how close we are.

It’s official, there’s gold in Preston’s eyes, there has to be. Sitting so close that I can see every little detail of his face makes my stomach twist in ways I never felt before.

“They were fighting again,” Preston explains, lowering our hands until he presses my own hands into my lap. He retreats his back over to him, curling them together in his lap. “I went downstairs to ask them to stop...it’s just tiring to hear it all the time. I guess mom was pretty mad because she threw a glass that hit me right as I came into the room.”

That is so odd and specific that I can’t help but to believe it. Preston must see my belief too because he lets out a chuckle somewhere between annoyed and amused. It is a situation that kind of calls for both because what are the chances? For once, Preston keeps talking before I can.

“It made me pretty mad even if, for once in a long time, they agreed on something and kept apologizing to me. I needed to leave, so I stormed off." Preston sighs. "I wish they’d just get it over with. It’s exhausting.”

I bet it is. I can’t even imagine what I would do if I were in his shoes. My parents have a happy marriage though they have their own arguments from time to time. I’ve never seen them fight in front of me before either and I think if I did it’d hurt more than I’m willing to admit. Preston seems pretty distraught about it, that frown of his refuses to leave now. I don’t like it one bit.

“Have you been talking about it with anyone?” I inquire, wondering if Preston has perhaps talked to his own friends in order to get some pressure off. When he shakes his head, I frown. “Why not?”

Preston shrugs, rocking back and forth on my bed for a moment before leaning forward. His wrists rest on his knees, back bent and head down so that his voice is even harder to hear. His mumbles barely make it to my ears, “I don’t like complaining about it. Others have it worse than me.”

“That’s bullshit,” I argue without hesitation causing Preston to look up at me with that blank stare of his. “So what if other people have it worse than you? That doesn’t mean you can’t feel bad or let people know you feel bad. Everyone has problems, everyone hurts and everyone has the right and need to talk about it. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a total fucking dick.”

Preston looks away once again, reaching up to ruffle his hair before dropping his hand again. He doesn’t respond but I don’t push him to either. Once again, he’s twiddling his fingers like that’ll help him come up with a response. Smiling, I press my hand to his back, the action causing him to look at me with wide eyes once again.

I’m not sure if I’m pushing my boundaries again or not but I slowly rub Preston’s back while trying to say as seriously as I can, “You can talk about it with me. I’ll listen, Preston.”

Preston’s reaction is something that I didn't imagine. I’m a little shocked when he suddenly jumps up from the bed. My hand falls from his back, landing on the bed to curl into the sheets when I find his back facing me. I can see his shoulders tensing, which only causes my own to do the same. I’m not sure what I did wrong or if it was something I said but it seems to have changed the atmosphere drastically.

“I uh...I should go,” Preston says, heading towards the door with swift steps.

“Huh? W-Why?” I jump up from the bed to follow after him. I barely manage to grasp the back of his t-shirt before he reaches the door. His hand lingers on the doorknob, turning it slightly until I grip his shirt even tighter. “Was it something I said?”

Preston’s sudden movements causes my grip on his shirt to release. My hand falls back to my side when he turns around to look at me with a solemn expression. Ah, yet another look I don’t like one bit. I prefer when he’s laughing or smiling at me especially when I feel like that sadness in his eyes is all my fault.

“You remember I confessed to you, right?” Preston asks, his voice shaking along with his entire body actually. He lowers his gaze once again, bringing up his hand to squeeze at his arm. He looks about ready to curl in on himself and disappear. “If you keep acting like this to me...you’re going to give me false hope.”

False hope. Wait-

“I-I’m just going to head home. My parents are probably worried.”

No, not yet. I can’t let him leave like this.

“I-I’ll talk to you l-later, Caleb.” Preston doesn’t even have the time to turn away.

“Maybe it’s not false!”

My cheeks are on the verge of exploding when Preston returns his gaze to my own. The pure shock on his face matches my own. He’s blushing now, so am I. He’s still shaking and now I am too. Something has caught in my throat, keeping my voice back, which is a huge change for me since normally I can’t shut up. Preston doesn’t seem to know what to say either, there’s an almost pleading look in his eyes, one that’s asking me to explain, to tell him what’s going on because that “false hope” of his is likely skyrocketing at this point.

I don’t like when he’s sad. I don’t like when he’s angry. I don’t like when he’s hurting and I especially don’t like it when it’s my fault. That’s what makes me finally swallow the fear that has lodged in my throat.

“I told you that day that if someone I wasn’t that close to confessed to me then I’d like to get to know them.”

Preston is biting his bottom lip with such ferocity I fear he may bite right through it.

“I got to know you, even if it’s just a little, and it only makes me want to know you more.”

For once, I think Preston is redder than me. While my cheeks are on a light simmer, he’s red as a tomato up to his ears. It’s cute...and, ok, maybe I should say that out loud one day. I get the feeling he’d like to hear it. Working up every ounce of courage I have, I finally give Preston a proper response to his confession, one that I doubt he’s expecting.

“I...I like you too, Preston.”

Seeing Preston smile like a child who just won a prize makes my toes curl. There’s a brief moment of silence, one that makes my entire body shiver, before Preston buries his face in his hands. I’m a bit confused until I see the red of his ears, seems like he’s trying to hide his blush, which I will not allow! I reach for those hands, tugging lightly but the boy shakes his head furiously.

“If-if y-you’re messing with me, Caleb-”

“I’m not.” I’m trying to pull his hands away but he’s refusing to let me.

“T-This is a bad j-joke.”

“It’s seriously not a joke,” I laugh, realizing that he isn’t going to let me see him so I’ll have to improvise. Leaning up, I press my lips to his hands in a soft kiss that causes his skin to break out with goosebumps. I can feel it and even see those goosebumps when I pull away.

Slowly, Preston’s fingers spread to reveal his wide eyes that have caught my smile. My plan has worked because, finally, Preston drops his hands showing that blush of his that hasn’t left in some time. His lips are shaking, like he wants to say something but can’t. It’s ok though, I don’t need to hear it since he’s already confessed to me.

Taking this opportunity, I lean up once more to press a chaste kiss to his pouty lips. It’s short, sweet and to the point. It’s a bit hard to kiss the bastard when he’s taller than me but it seems Preston approves of the idea of kissing because, afterwards, he leans right back in for another. My hands reach up to grasp his cheeks, rubbing the warm skin beneath while his hands grip my hips like his very life depended on it.

Feeling his lips against mine ignites my whole body. I feel hot and tingly, like my feelings are somehow physically coursing through me,. Honestly, our first kiss is a bit sloppy. Neither of us exactly have experience in the kissing department. It’s more difficult than what is on TV since my short ass seems to cause Preston some neck pain judging by the way he rolls his shoulders after a kiss.

Regardless of that, the kissing continues, our lips only ever brushing slightly because neither of us know what the actual fuck we’re doing. It’s not as if that takes away from the kiss though, in fact, it makes us smile even more. I don’t know, maybe it’s the thought that we’re both so inexperienced that it doesn’t matter if we’re bad because we have that in common.

The only reason we stop is the sound of a door opening outside. Both of us pull apart, whipping our heads around to watch my door, which is locked so I don’t really see an issue but still. There are footsteps followed by a yawn that sounds a lot like Brody. He’s probably up to get a drink and soon the sound is moving down the steps causing Preston and I to let out a sigh of relief.

“Are you still going to leave?” I ask, dropping my hands to his shoulders. Preston keeps his hands on my waist as well, his fingers twisting themselves into the fabric.

“I-If you want me to…”

“I want you to stay.”

Bashfully, Preston looks down, his lips twitching into a smile again when he mumbles, “Ok...I can stay.”

Damn it, he’s really cute. Now that I admitted the truth it’s hard not to think like that. He’s super cute in an almost weird way. With his quiet demeanor I thought he’d be one of those “cool guys” who always has a straight face yet here he is blushing and being all fucking adorable. Damn it!

“Are you aware of how cute you are?” I ask out of the blue, grinning almost evilly when Preston’s jaw drops. He begins to shake his head frantically, sputtering out something along the lines of “what are you saying,” which only confirms even more that he’s adorable.

“Reacting like that, it’s super cute you know,” I point out, which has Preston finally releasing me but only so that he can walk around me and keep his back to me. His hands are in his hair, ruffling the wild locks atop his head.

“What the hell are you saying?”

“The truth.”

Preston groans, which I find amusing as I walk back over to my bed. Once more I pat the spot beside me for Preston to take a seat but now he’s even more hesitant to do so. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes downcast and lips trembling.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he suggests, which has me quickly shaking my head.

“My bed is big enough for two.” I pat the bed a little louder. “Besides, from that kiss earlier I think we need a little practice, don’t you?”

“I’m definitely sleeping on the couch.”

“I’m teasing, Preston, teasing!”

We end up sleeping in the same bed. Sadly, no practice ensues, damn it.