Run Away With Me

Kellin's POV

I drag my suitcase behind me sluggishly as I head back to my new room, seemingly vacant thoughts to rouse my mind. Their static consistency takes shape of the hall of which I am currently moving through. I remember the short entrance and even shorter departure from my old bedroom, Justin nodding to acknowledge my presence and gifting me with a small smile that screamed empathy. As if he already knew what my problem was.

As I step foot in to the room, it is apparent that Victor is no where to be seen. I shrug at the observation, assuming he has just gone to the restroom. Reality justifies my thought; the sound of a jiggling doorknob craves my attention.

Sheepishly, Victor retreats from the restroom and scurries over to his bed, finding the slightest comfort on the edge of it with his ankles crossed and his eyes murdering the floorboards. I study his immediate features. Admiration is dedicated to his golden skin. The bangs that hide his chocolate eyes from me are my feast. And it is an honour to desire, yearn for, crave a taste of his beautiful, and certainly appetizing, lips. It is not until Victor clears his throat, however, that I realize what I'm doing: staring. I feel a maiden blush bepaint my cheeks and quickly survey the vicinity for something, anything, to alleviate the awkward atmosphere. Spying his acoustic guitar, I scrummage my brain for a question.

"S-so you, uh, you play guitar?" I inquire, fully aware of how asinine that question is, and my heart skips a beat as his shyness creeps over him once more. He grabs his notepad and pen; his hand quivering, he scribbles his response.

Uh, yeah.

I can almost hear the hesitation in his words and it makes me smile on the inside. I glide to his bed and gently sit on the edge across from him.

"How good are you?" Hope swells in my lungs as the thought of this lovely boy, who within seconds of appearing before my eyes steals my heart, playing an even lovelier instrument invades my brain.

I'm alright, I guess.

His eyes warily meet mine for a split second before engaging in a stare down with the page of his notebook. I can tell he isn't going to play voluntarily, so I cautiously nudge him into that state of mind.

"Can you play something for me?"

Vic's POV

"Can you play something for me?" Kellin's eyes glisten with his apparent hopefulness and I inwardly sigh, reluctantly giving in to his request. Relinquishing the notepad and pen to their temporary home on my comforter, I reach for my guitar and strum the strings all together once to check the tuning. 3... 2... 1...

Kellin's POV

Merely seconds after music dances into my ears, I am overwhelmed with a salad of feelings, each one attempting to overpower its neighbors. My eyes widen and my jaw drops. Victor, whose eyes are closed, continues to strum his delightful tun, even moving his head along with the rhythm every so often. When the music seizes and the boy opens his eyes, a profound blush that would put roses to shame blossoms on his cheeks. Silence replaces the empty space that the music left behind in its departure. Victor shifts around in his seat upon the bed, avoiding eye contact, obviously embarrassed, but I will not have it.

As if by reflex, my left hand cups his chin and applies light pressure, enough to make his head level with mine. Though he still isn't looking at me, I proceed to vocalize my praise.

"Victor, that was so amazing. I can't possibly understand why you are shy about this gift. It's easy to see that guitar is your passion and music runs in those veins of your's."

My words must strike him deep because his eyes flit to mine and inside of them I spot specks of genuine happiness. He hurriedly reaches across the bed for his pen and notebook, yet writes his question slowly.

Really?

That one word sends me into an absolute fervor as I look to him and murmur my response. "Of course." His blush strengthens and it is at this moment that I am aware of how close we are to each other: both of us leaning in, our warm exhales hitting the other person's face, his heavenly scent invading my nasal cavity, and our lips, which are only inches from each other's.

My lips capture his in a simple peck, but that is all it takes for me to catch a glimpse of his feelings towards me. Immediately, his mouth begins to work against my own, the taste of his essence being imprinted in the creases of my lips. His tongue slipping into my mouth, my heart is beating much to fast. And, yet, through the nerves, I manage to place my hands on the nape of his neck, holding this mesmerizing boy close to me.