I snuggled closer to the inevitable heat blanket next to me, resting my arm on its warm body. I breathed in and out, feeling the swarm of sweat smelling roses invading my nose. Strawberry and roses. It smelled like strawberry and roses. I opened my eyes, only to be met with my own shirt.

I stared up, watching as his face twisted in a series of tired and happy, occasionally letting out a deep breath. I smiled, letting all worries wash away.

I ignored the white curtains staring at me from across the room or the fact he was hugging me for dear life and all I could feel was its warmth. No pain whatsoever. I pried my hand from between us, placing it on his cheek, the carefree feeling disappearing with a sense of fear. Would he hate me?

He stirred for a moment. I reached up and pecked his lips. Would he hate me?

He just stayed the same, sleeping soundly. I pecked again, feeling his lips peck back. I whipped my head back, thinking I might have been caught only to see he was still in his deep slumber.

I kissed his thin lips, pulling his head down slightly. He grumbled but before I could scoot away, he pulled me closer, kissing me back.

I looped my hands behind his head, tangling my finger in his soft, silky blonde locks. He tilted his head, causing me to groan as his hand went to the small of my back, bringing me closer than before.

His hand hooked my pants from the inside, our lips dancing like salsa music was playing in the background. It was messy, frantic, and perfect. Soon my lungs felt like bursting, I reluctantly pulled back, watching as his eyes opened one at a time. It was stupidly adorable.

He dopely looked at me, smiling like a crazed goofball. I was pretty sure I was supporting the same look. I counted all 32 of his freckles, taking in his white teeth and fluffy lips.

He began to bring me back but before I could close my eyes, darkness enveloped me and a pounding throb beat against my skull. It was all a dream.

I looked up, only to find a very sleepy Church Boy staring at me with wide eyes and a red face. He looked mortified.

“You okay?” I asked, the scratch in my voice almost loud enough to be echoed around the room.

He shook his head, backing away slightly closer to the wall.

“You moaned my name in your sleep.” He whispered everything came crashing down.

My smile dropped and my blood ran cold. I immediately became defensive, the headache worsening.

“I was not you fucking liar.” I got up, only for an unwanted sob to escape my lips as the headache decided to get even worse.

His face dropped and he crawled over to me.

“Are you alri-” “Ok course I am! Why wouldn’t I be.” I cut him off, not want yet another sympathizing person in my life.

He attempts to pat my back just for his hand to be swatted away. He tries again, watching as I avoid the hand and kneel to grab my pills, I needed them now.

He watched me, looking at me with a wondering look. I grabbed the pills, swallowing them dry. It burned but I needed relief.

He kept watching, face blank with no emotion. I gave a scoff, “Got a problem?”

He got up, surprising me by his silence. He grabbed my shirt and raising it above his head, tossing it my way. The first things I noticed were the two red lines under his nipples.

“I was only trying to help you.” He grumbled, grabbing his shirt from his bag and draping it over him.

I wanted to ask but I knew it wasn’t my place. What were those? Why on his chest?

He smiled my way, a sad glint in his features.

“I’m gonna go get ready downstairs. I’ll see you on the bus.” He mumbled and walked out the door.

What were those?