The door’s very noise sent a chill up his spine. He didn’t know why he was being so dramatic over this. Letting out a deep breath, he soon saw Blaine. Two weeks went by without any texts. Without seeing that cute face and gelled hair. The corners of his mouth raised somewhat. It was a small smile. If anything, it was a relieve to actually see him again. especially after those texts, he needed to get it out face to face.
“It’s okay. No worries,” muttered. The eye contact killed him. Stepping inside he took yet another sigh. This was one of the rare occasions that Sebastian was quiet. It didn’t happen often, but when it did it was hard to miss. His hands retreated into his pockets. His neck was bent slightly as his eyes were more upwardly focused.
Turning around he watched Blaine. Sebastian’s gaze followed his movements. He was studying his body language. “Where do you wanna go?” The inquiry relieved some of the awkwardness.
A overly long silence fell between them when Blaine went mute and stared up at Sebastian after he broke eye contact with him. Truth be told? Blaine’s heart was racing, his chest was tight and he didn’t know whether or not he’d be able to go through with this until long after he gave Sebastian the invite and knew he was on his way there. Everything just got so messed up before when they were near each other. Part of him wondered if staying in texts and calls would have been better. Less risky, less to lose because hurt’s easier to hide when you can’t see the person.
It was a cowardly way of doing things. Not how he normally handled anything in his life–well most things. But it was that safety net that he was wondering if he’d made a mistake giving up when the other boy couldn’t even bear to look him in the eyes. –No. It’s going to be okay. You can fix this. If he wants to. Just look at him. You know he does.–
Underneath Sebastian’s observation–he didn’t know what made him more nervous. The lack of eye contact or the weight of a watchful eye he could feel on his back like the presence of a hand pulling his stomach down in one big jerk. His arms instinctively crossed in front of his lower chest. A subconscious way of grounding himself. “We can go to the living room. This whole house is empty. It will be for a few more days. Can I get you anything to drink? I-I mean. Water or soda or–yeah,” he sighed and peeked back up at him, “Trying that again. Are you thirsty?”
pianokeysandbowties 