I Don't Have Much In Life But Take It - It's Yours.

I'm not sure whether I slept that night. I think I weaved in and out of a light sleep, checking, every time I opened my eyes, that Fynn was still next to me, his thin cold limbs tangled in mine. When the morning washed into the room, just lighting it at dawn, I move Fynn a little closer to me and close my eyes.

I wake up feeling happy. For once I wake up with someone in my arms, without that feeling of guilty and loneliness that comes with a one night stand with an almost stranger. I look down at Fynn, and the corners of his mouth are curved upwards in a slight smile. I hope he's having a happy dream. I stare at him for a while, feeling his warm slow breath hitting my neck, making me smile. With a glance at the neon yellow clock on the table, I decide it's too early to wake Fynn from probably his first decent sleep in a while, so I carefully move his limbs from mine and slip from between the sheets.

I glance at Fynn, seeing him still sleeping, when I silently slip through the door into the little entrance to my rooms. The door on my right is calling to me, so I push it open and dodge through, closing it quietly behind me. It's the only dark room of mine, the walls all black, the carpet black. The only thing that isn't black in this smallish room is the neon pink guitar and amp in the middle.

I fall into the black seat next to my precious guitar and pick it up, placing it on my lap and shuffling slightly so I'm comfy. My fingers twist around the frets beyond my control and it takes me a few seconds to realise what my mind is telling me to play.

Aaron Rothe's 'What Beautiful Is' sounds through the room, and when my voice joins in its croaky at first. I close my eyes and let the music take me, singing along quietly. The last few notes ring through the air, and I slowly open my eyes. I look up and Fynn's stood in the doorway, staring at me and my guitar, twisting the fabric of his t-shirt through his fingers.

"Oh, sorry," I say quietly, feeling the blush rise up my cheeks, placing my guitar back on it's stand, "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Fynn says, equally quietly, stepping into the room a little more, "No," There's a silence, where Fynn looks as if he's contemplating saying something. When he does he stumbles over his words a little, "That was beautiful... What Beautiful Is, right?"

I nod, standing, "Yeah... I'm not that good,"

Fynn sort of snorts, a cute little 'yeah right' sound that makes me smile. I lead us out of the room, a little embarrassed he's seen a part of me thats usually hidden, and close the door behind us.

"What shall we do today?" I ask when we're sat on the edge of my bed.

Fynn falters a little, something I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't watching him carefully, "I dont mind,"

"Well, I dont think you can survive in my neon stuff right? So how about we go shopping? Get you some clothes,"

He stands and takes a few steps back, "No! I mean, I've already like come into your house, I dont want you to spend anything,"

I laugh a little, "Fynn, I've got the money, and I'm not going to let you wear that stuff of yours. Those jeans have got to be a health risk," Fynn stays where he is, still as tense, chewing his lip.

I stand up, move closer to him. One hand falls on his shoulder, the other just resting lightly on his hip, "Come on Fynn, clothes, lovely new clean clothes... do you think I would be offering if I mind?"

He shrugs, murmuring something inaudible, so I have to move a little closer and bend my head towards his lips, "I guess not," His voice is whispery soft and I visibly shiver when his breath hits my cheek.

I turn to look at him and he's closer than I realised. He doesn't move back, something completely out of character for him, but he shuffles his feet a little closer so there's barely a gap between our bodies. I swear our noses are millimetres away and I can't help smiling, despite the butterflies in my stomach.

We linger there, too shy to make the first move. I know I don't have the courage to touch my lips to his, and I doubt Fynn does, so I take the smallest step back. Fynn's hands are on my hips, something I didnt realise until a second ago, and stay there, even when we're further away. He only moves his hand from my hip to wind his fingers round his shirt, looking down at it. When he looks up his eyes are shining, and he's actually smiling, "Maybe try some less baggy clothes?"

"I'll get you in skinnies so tight you can't walk Fynn," I say, and he smiles. He looks as if he's going to rest his head on my chest, but hesitates a little, glancing up at me. When he sees me smile his head flops forward on my chest, and even through my t-shirt his breath is ticklish. I tangle my hands in his hair, "I know the perfect place for clothes, you'll love it,"

We pull apart and I walk over to the wardrobe in the corner, pulling a pair of black straight legs from them, not really skinny but less baggy than his old jeans. I rifle through a few hangers, and find a dark blue skinny fit tee, a Cute Is What We Aim For one. I pull that out too, and hand them to Fynn, along with some more boxers.

He looks uncertain and chews his lip again. I put a finger to his lips, stopping him pulling the skin from them, "You said less baggy. You'll look fine," I walk back over to the wardrobe and pull out a pair of bright pink skinnies, black belt, and a bright blue tee with black stars on. Fynn's eyes widen and I laugh, "Don't worry Fynn, these are mine,"

He breathes a sigh of relief and I laugh even more, walking to the bathroom. I turn at the door, "Have a wash? Leave the clothes there, it's okay,"

Fynn follows me into the bathroom, to the sinks, where I search through a cupboard to find a new toothbrush for him. I hand it to him and grab my own from the cup on the edge of the sink. I run the tap and glance at Fynn. He's stood there, looking confused, as if he's unsure of what to do, what to use since there's so much shit crowding the sink and the granite top its on.

I place my hand over Fynn's, grabbing the toothpaste and squeezing a little onto his toothbrush. I lead Fynn's hand to the sink and he runs it under the tap a little. My hand's still over his when I push the toothbrush to his lips, and I smile a little when he laughs, brushing the toothbrush over his teeth.

I brush my own teeth, throwing the brush back into the cup when I'm done, Fynn quickly following suit. We both wash our faces, laughing a little as Fynn coughs and splutters as the warm water goes up his nose. I have to hit him on the back a bit since I don't want him choking to death.

"Thanks," Fynn says hoarsely and I smile. I lead him back into my bedroom, where I snatch my clothes from the bed and tell Fynn I'll be back in a minute. I quickly pull on my clothes in the bathroom, and snatch a brush from the cramped worktop, pulling my hair into something resembling a style. Next I do my makeup, scrawling a thick black line round my eyes, and coating my lashes in my trusty pink mascara. I glance at the eyeliner and smile.

"Fynnnn!" I call, and I hear him say my name back, "Come here a second?"

"Where's here?"

"In the bathroom," I hear him 'urm' and pull open the bathroom door, smiling when I see Fynn looking confusedly at the four or five doors in the little corridor. I throw up the eyeliner and deftly catch it. Fynn sees it and his eyes widen.

"Ohh no, no way," he says quietly.

"Pleeease?" I say, and he shakes his head. I go to grab him so I can line his beautiful eyes in black but he dodges back into my bedroom. I tackle him onto the bed and somehow manage to straddle him, leaning down to circle his eyes in black. I linger there when I've put the lid back on the liner and we lie there, until I realise I'm straddling him, then get off quickly, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks. I hold my hand out to him and he stands up. I link my fingers through his, smiling when I glance down and see the contrast between his black nails and my bright yellow ones, "To the shops," I say. We're almost out the door of my room until I realise I haven't got my wallet, so I dodge back and grab it from the table, pushing it into my back pocket.

We wander down the streets, quickly whilst we're in the rich estate, slowing down when we're safely into town. I dont care, for once, if I see any of those acquaintances and grip Fynn's hand tighter, swinging it between us slightly. I lead us through the back alleys, finally finding my favourite shop.

Little Oasis is squashed between a hairdresser and a fancy dress shop, and when we squeeze through the door the man behind the counter looks up, "Hey Jay. I got those skinnies you were looking for last time in,"

"No way," I say, smiling,.

"Way! Those black and pink striped ones?"

"Thanks Jeph!" I pull Fynn further into the shop, but Jeph stops us, calling out:

"Whose this then Jay? Aren't ya gonna introduce me?"

I laugh, this guy rocks, "Sorry, Fynn this is Jeph. Jeph this is Fynn, my friend, we're going on a shopping spree, Fynn needs a total new wardrobe!"

"Alrighty! Yell if you need anything," Jeph says, looking back down at the magazine on the counter.

I pull Fynn in between the racks of clothes, avoiding the neon section at the back that I usually rush to, instead finding a pair of plain black skinnies, "Start with the basics," I hold them up to Fynn to check the vague size, and shove them into his hands. He stumbles after me as I weave through the stands, finding shirts and jeans, hoodies and even a pair of chequered green and white Vans I insist he have.

I push Fynn into a changing room at the back of the small shop, and draw the curtain across. When I hear no movement from inside I stick my head through the curtain. Fynn's still stood there, clothes in hand, so I step inside. I place all of the clothes on the hangers except some plain black skinnies and a deep green tee with a guitar down one side. I smile at him and step back outside the little cubicle, getting a knowing look from Jeph, who calls me over with a jerk of the head.

"So whats the deal with Fynn?" He asks quietly, leaning his elbows on the table as I do the same.

"Well, I dont know really, we just met," I lower my voice so even I can barely hear it, "He was on the streets, and he tried to nick my bag, and I just saw his eyes, and like crumpled, so I found him, long story short, and now he's here, he's staying with me,"

"That's pretty cool," Jeph smiles and leans back again, looking at an article about Bullet For My Valentine in some obscure magazine.

"Jayy?" Fynn calls from inside the changing room and I bound over, sticking my head through the curtain.

"Whoa," I whisper, and Fynn's face falls a little.

"I look stupid, I knew it," He says quietly, clawing at the dark green fabric across his stomach.

I push my hand to his to stop him, "Those are so going on the Yes pile, you look so good," I make him smile at that, "Right, get those off, and tryy," I pull a pair of charcoal grey skinnies and a red and black striped long sleeved shirt from their hangers, "those,"

He fingers the skinnies uncertainly, "They're really skinny,"

"You're skinny! You'll look great, just try them on," I pull the curtain back across after stepping out, and lean against the side, waiting patiently until Fynn hands me the black skinnies and top he tried on before from behind the curtain. I take them from him and shove them on the counter, "Definite yes," I say to Jeph. I knew I couldn't stay away from the neon for long, so I find those skinnies Jeph told me about earlier, and add them to the pile, along with a wristful of pretty bracelets, and a neon green top with black splatters.

"Uhh, Jayy?" Fynn calls again, and I stick my head through the curtain. The skinnies are round his calves, and he's clutching the top to his chest, trying to hide behind it, "They're really skinny,"

"Can I?" I ask, and when he nods I curl my fingers round the waistband of the jeans, pulling them up, "My god they are skinny," We both pull them up, and I cant help laughing a little at the scene. When we finally get them up we're both a little breathless and Fynn fastens them with shaking hands. I look down at them and my god they are skinny. Fynn looks fantastic. He pulls the top over his head and down his thin chest, and I cant help staring.

He moves a little closer, stumbling as he pulls the top down. My hands easily find his hipbones and his wind round my shirt material, "You look amazing," I whisper and he smiles back at me, leaning his forehead to mine. Fynn takes a deep breath and moves forward a little more, so our lips are a mere millimetre away. We both move forward, and when our lips touch they part into a smile.

"These are definitely going on the Yes pile," I murmur when we pull apart a few seconds later. He nods and murmurs something I don't quite hear, but I dont mind, since he pushes his lips to mine again. His hands move up to grip my shoulders, then tangle in hair. I squeak into our kiss a little when his fingers hit a tangle, and he makes some sort of noise back in apology. We pull apart after a few seconds, and I lean against the divide whilst Fynn pulls off those skinnies, with great difficulty. He hands them to me and I pull back the curtain just enough to slip through.

Fynn taps my shoulder and I turn back round. He smiles and kisses me again, so quickly that I barely feel his lips on mine, "Thanks," He whispers.

I grin as I let the curtain fall closed again, and bound over to Jeph, whose smirking, and drop the skinnies on the counter. I think of Fynn's eyes, think of his smile, of his lips on mine.

I hope he never leaves.