Sequel: I Won't Give Up ›
A Blend of Fear & Passion
Greg
Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Dawson pushed himself, and I made him push harder. After school, I'd push him until he broke. Until I could see the tears in his eyes. After an after school session, he came up to me looking a bit freaked. "What's on your mind, Andrews?" I asked, downing what was left of my water and wiping the sweat off my face.
"I was thinking of your offer. Of staying at your place for a while," he said, his vulnerability showing a bit. "The bank is threatening to take the house, and I would rather not live on the streets."
"The streets," I said just over a whisper, looking down at the floor. "Not a great place to be." Grabbing a piece of paper, I wrote my address down, with easy-to-follow instructions from the school. Handing it over to him, I said, "I will warn you now, Andrews, at my place, it'll be just like school for you."
"Bring it on," he replied, walking out of the room to his next class. My mouth threatened a smile, but I bit my lip and waited until the urge passed. I wasn't going to become soft! Punching a mirror, I cursed at the pain and fell to the ground. Staring at the multiple faces of myself in the shattered shards, I saw the ghost of a man I would rather not become in the face of the man I was now.
Time Elapse
I was currently in my basement, the mats out and dancing a original routine I haven't done in ten years. After the fifth time of messing up, I yelled and sat down, stopping the music and resting my head in my hands. Remembering my hand, I pulled my hands away from my face and unwrapped my bandages, looking at the wound with stern eyes.
Heading to the bathroom located on the far side of the basement, I turned the light on and grabbed the gauze and tape. Quickly changing the wrap, I threw away the old bandages and walked out, heading for the stairs.
Once at the top, I heard a knock on my door. "Coming," I called, throwing on a button-up shirt as I made my way toward the front door. Opening it, I came face to face with Dawson. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"I was having trouble deciding if I should or not," he said, shifting the three bags he had around a bit. "Can I come in?"
Shaking my head for a moment, I stepped aside and allowed him to come into the house. "Shit. I knew you had to be hooked up, but not this much," he said, looking around at everything. I, again, forced down a smile before I pushed passed him.
"Guest room is this way," I said, walking up the stairs. I heard him behind me and made a left, stopping at the second door on the left. "Feel free to make it comfortable as possible. I don't care if you rearrange anything, just please don't do it in the middle of the night." He nodded, and I opened the door for him. Grabbing the bags in his hands, I walked over to the king size water bed and placed them at the end.
Picking up the remote on the night stand, pointing out the various buttons, I said, "This is for the TV. This is for the stereo. This is to unlock the mini-fridge. I have cable, so feel free to watch anything, except anything porn related. No PPV movies unless I know about it first, again, steering clear of porn. Understood?"
"Understood," Dawson said as he took the remote.
"There's a dance studio in the basement with surround sound, so make yourself comfortable using it." I walked over to the door and then turned to face Dawson. "There's a key for this door in the closet on the shelf. That way if you would rather keep me out of your room, you can. I just ask for the same in return. Knock or holler if you need anything."
At that, I walked out and closed the door, making my way to my own room. Turning on the light, I decided I might as well straighten up around it, that way I don't look like I can't maintain a clean room. Getting started, I soon found myself thinking about how much impact this was going to have on me. I could already feel my walls starting to fall. I just hope I can stop them from completely falling away.
The last thing I needed was to get close to anyone. Especially that Dawson Andrews.
"I was thinking of your offer. Of staying at your place for a while," he said, his vulnerability showing a bit. "The bank is threatening to take the house, and I would rather not live on the streets."
"The streets," I said just over a whisper, looking down at the floor. "Not a great place to be." Grabbing a piece of paper, I wrote my address down, with easy-to-follow instructions from the school. Handing it over to him, I said, "I will warn you now, Andrews, at my place, it'll be just like school for you."
"Bring it on," he replied, walking out of the room to his next class. My mouth threatened a smile, but I bit my lip and waited until the urge passed. I wasn't going to become soft! Punching a mirror, I cursed at the pain and fell to the ground. Staring at the multiple faces of myself in the shattered shards, I saw the ghost of a man I would rather not become in the face of the man I was now.
Time Elapse
I was currently in my basement, the mats out and dancing a original routine I haven't done in ten years. After the fifth time of messing up, I yelled and sat down, stopping the music and resting my head in my hands. Remembering my hand, I pulled my hands away from my face and unwrapped my bandages, looking at the wound with stern eyes.
Heading to the bathroom located on the far side of the basement, I turned the light on and grabbed the gauze and tape. Quickly changing the wrap, I threw away the old bandages and walked out, heading for the stairs.
Once at the top, I heard a knock on my door. "Coming," I called, throwing on a button-up shirt as I made my way toward the front door. Opening it, I came face to face with Dawson. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"I was having trouble deciding if I should or not," he said, shifting the three bags he had around a bit. "Can I come in?"
Shaking my head for a moment, I stepped aside and allowed him to come into the house. "Shit. I knew you had to be hooked up, but not this much," he said, looking around at everything. I, again, forced down a smile before I pushed passed him.
"Guest room is this way," I said, walking up the stairs. I heard him behind me and made a left, stopping at the second door on the left. "Feel free to make it comfortable as possible. I don't care if you rearrange anything, just please don't do it in the middle of the night." He nodded, and I opened the door for him. Grabbing the bags in his hands, I walked over to the king size water bed and placed them at the end.
Picking up the remote on the night stand, pointing out the various buttons, I said, "This is for the TV. This is for the stereo. This is to unlock the mini-fridge. I have cable, so feel free to watch anything, except anything porn related. No PPV movies unless I know about it first, again, steering clear of porn. Understood?"
"Understood," Dawson said as he took the remote.
"There's a dance studio in the basement with surround sound, so make yourself comfortable using it." I walked over to the door and then turned to face Dawson. "There's a key for this door in the closet on the shelf. That way if you would rather keep me out of your room, you can. I just ask for the same in return. Knock or holler if you need anything."
At that, I walked out and closed the door, making my way to my own room. Turning on the light, I decided I might as well straighten up around it, that way I don't look like I can't maintain a clean room. Getting started, I soon found myself thinking about how much impact this was going to have on me. I could already feel my walls starting to fall. I just hope I can stop them from completely falling away.
The last thing I needed was to get close to anyone. Especially that Dawson Andrews.