When Everything Feels Like the Movies

Alan tentatively walked back to his apartment, glancing back with a worried look every so often to make sure I was still following him. His hair glowed an iridescent orange in the light of the sparsely erected streetlamps, making him look like a little ginger angel.
My skin was starting to crawl because the only sound I could hear with our soft footsteps scooting across the pavement, almost as if we were afraid that if we walked any louder, the earth would break apart and swallow us whole. I kept my eyes locked on Alan's back and it calmed me but that didn't stop me from throwing cursory glances at everything that interrupted the flow of pavement, whether it was the straggly patch of grass poking through the concrete or the end of the curb, leading onto another street. No matter how old I get, I will always be afraid of the things that lurk in the dark.
I followed him through the cracked gate of his apartment complex, around the broken fountain in the once hospitable garden, up three sets of worn stairs, and to his door. It hung wide open, light from the dim ceiling light filtering out. He stood next to the door, questioning in his eyes. I stepped into the small apartment, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, unsure.
Alan closed the door behind him, gesturing at the couch.
"Sit with me?" he requested, uncertainty tainting his voice.
I sat.
He sat on the other end of the couch, tucking his feet underneath him and staring at me.
We sat in silence. Awkward, uncomfortable silence.
After a few minutes, I was debating just getting up and leaving but Alan's voice broke the nearly palpable tension.
"I'm sorry," He blurted out, like he knew I was going to leave.
"For what, Alan." I might still have been slightly angry with him for shutting me out.
"For not telling you stuff. For keeping secrets from you. I just.. Like, I had a hard childhood. Things weren't easy and I guess my ability to trust was just broken."
I folded my arms across my chest. "Then tell me. Now. I just want to know you the way you know me."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him reach a hand out for me, almost as if for comfort, but he quickly withdrew it and set his small hand back in his lap.
"I was hit a lot as a kid."
I jerked my head towards him so fast, I could hear my neck pop. Rubbing my neck, I gaped at him. Who in the world would lay a hand on someone as adorable as Alan?
Alan's face was tipped to towards his lap, his fingers twisted together.
"I was seven when it first happened. It was my biological father, actually. I never knew him. Walked out on my mom and me when she was pregnant. I was walking home one day from school and a man claiming to be my father picked me up. He knew my name. I was a lost kid, Austin. I just wanted my dad and here was some guy, telling me he was my dad and... I believed him. He took me to his house and did... Fucking.. Unspeakable things to me. Things you should never ever do to a child." His golden orange fringe covered his eyes but I could see tears falling into his lap. I made a noise in my throat, distressed. He looked up at me, tear tracks sliding over his porcelain skin. I extended my arm and he scuttled across the couch, tucking himself against my side, immediately twisting the hem of my shirt into his fingers.
"Go on," I prompted, cuddling him against me.
He sucked in a deep breath.
"My mom saw. The bruises. She tried to explain why he left, why my father didn't love me like he should have but I was seven, Austin, too young to understand why everyone can't love each other."
Tears soaked my shirt and I rubbed his back in the most comforting way I could.
"I was bullied, later on, during middle and high school. I was different, and weird. Because I liked boys. Because I'd rather play guitar and read than bully dogs and play football. Around this time, my mom was getting drunk a lot, sleeping around. I basically fended for myself until one day, when I was around twelve, I came home, literally crawled home, broken and bloody and more dead than alive and she was sober and she just broke. She got better for me because she realized that she couldn't care for a kid who was hurt all the time. She got back on the right track, got a job at a travel agency, and, when I was around thirteen, she met a very wealthy man who loved her and treated her well. A year later, they were married. He provides for me and Mom and she's never been happier. I could be living in a penthouse, drive a new car every week but I chose this apartment because, I didn't want to be a burden. I wanted to make my mom proud by getting into a band and getting famous and make her proud but so far, that hasn't happened."
He sobbed into my chest and my heart broke, fucking shattered. I tugged him into my lap and he just curled up and cried. I don't know how long we sat there, me rubbing circles in his back, nuzzling his hair but I just wanted him to be better.
His snuffling slowed then stopped, an occasionally hiccup could be heard.
I picked him up, cradling him against my chest and carried him to his room. I lay him on his bed and tucked my body around him. I pressed kisses to his cheek and neck, just wishing I could take away the pain.
"Do you understand why I almost CAN'T trust people now?" His shaky whisper almost broke my heart all over again.
I kissed behind his ear and pulled him even tighter against my chest.
"Yes. I understand. I just wish you had told me sooner because I'm falling for you and if I don't know things about you, I just, I can't help you. I... I think I..."
I stammered before blushing and hiding my face in his hair. He rolled over in my arms, tilting his head up at me.
"What?"
"I... Never mind."
He wrinkled his nose. "Tell me."
"It's nothing."
"Tellmetellmetellmetellmetellmetellmetellme-" I crushed my lips against his.
We made out for a while, Alan's lips tasting like salt, his breath shaking a little from crying so much. I pulled away, rubbing our noses together lightly.
"I think I love you."