Fan Fiction ❯ 12:34 AM ❯ 1:34 AM ( Chapter 2 )

1:34 AM

Violet Dragon

 

 

I let the long, wiry phone cord dangle between my hot fingers.

 

“How's Meatloaf?” he said. I detected a smirk, although we were talking on the phone.

 

“He's good. He's growing fast, and has a growing fascination with rubber bands.”

 

He laughed heartily. I loved his laugh, and felt my insides grow warm. “That's great. I was worried for a while he wasn't going to make it.”

 

“How come?”

 

“He was so sickly. I found him in the alley, remember?”

 

“Yeah, you said that.”

 

“I guess all he needed was your love! I just hope you're not giving him any more meatloaf.”

 

I half-smiled. “No, he threw up the first time I gave it to him.”

 

“Exactly my point. Why would you even give a cat meatloaf?”

 

“Hey, I didn't have any pets growing up, and I didn't know what he ate.” I turned a little pink, and sat down on the floor, my head lolling against the white wall.

 

“Well, I have to go. See you tonight then?”

 

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. “Yeah, see you tonight.”

 

I slid the phone back into its holder and sighed. Biting my thumbnail, I imagined where we would go, what we would do this afternoon.

 

Since we had met, I had become less… well, of an asshole. At least towards Andrew. Everyone else I treated with the same demeanor, cold and suspicious when it came to their motives.

 

With Andrew, I feared I had become overly fond of him. What if he decided he did not want to become friends with me after a short period of time, or came into my home and took Meatloaf away from me, or tried to make a move on me?

 

As I crudely reminded him once in a while, I am not a faggot.

 

I'm really not.

 

- - - -

 

Andrew arrived at four fifty-four this evening, wearing a long hooded denim jacket with faux fur lining the inside of it.

 

“It's fifty-seven degrees out, Andrew,” I stared at him as he stood in my doorframe.

 

“Well, yeah… but this jacket was so wicked, I had to show it off!” He said excitedly. He was so juvenile. “I bought in a thrift store for like thirteen bucks!”

 

“I'm ecstatic for you.”

 

“And it always shows,” he stepped inside to pet Meatloaf. “So what town do you want to paint red first?”

 

I moaned. “Andrew, I told you that I don't want to come into contact with anyone for as long as I can help it.”

 

“Come on, Tavish, we never go anywhere! Most of the time we sit in coffee shops while you brood and I make fun of you. You'd be totally emo if you weren't so non-non-conformist!”

 

“And you'd be gay if you weren't so straight.”

 

He laughed. Again, the warmth flushed through my body and tinged my cheeks pink.

 

“Let's just go already—I'll go anywhere you want, okay?”

 

“Hell yeah bitches!” He hooted, causing Meatloaf to charge under the couch. “Sorry, meaty.” He got down on his hands and knees and apologized to the little thing.

 

I rolled my eyes. “Let's go. You are so gay.”

 

“You are so emo!”

 

- - - -

 

It was two days later. I lay in my bathtub, listening to Andrew listen to my TV set. It was ten-thirty at night, just after I finished work, and I found him crouched next to my apartment door as I arrived home. He was sitting there in wet jeans and a dress shirt, his jean faux fur jacket on, his head low and his eyes depressed. He wouldn't explain himself, just told me that he needed to stay here tonight.

 

I told him it was fine with me. I didn't question him, it was something I could never do. Our friendship had been going on for four months now, and I, to some degree, trusted him. It was one of the things I had always feared.

 

And now, I sat soaking myself in my ratty tub, and heard Meatloaf mewl at my door. I smiled softly and pulled out the plug.

 

Feeling the bubbles slide off of me as I poured hot water over my luminescent skin, I started crying for no reason at all. This is a rare occurrence with someone like me—I haven't cried for perhaps a year. I quickly shook it off and threw on my black robe, deciding that if I went into the living room right away with Andrew that I'd be forced to stop crying, since he was there.

 

It worked, although my eyes were still red and puffy. The kitten mewled at my feet, rubbing his head against my bare soles and licking my toes.

 

Andrew slowly looked over at me and frowned testily. “Were you crying?”

 

“Don't be ridiculous Andrew,” I said, staring ferociously at the TV.

 

“You were crying!” He gasped, turning his body fully to me.

 

“Andrew, if you don't shut the fuck up I'm throwing you out of here!” I snapped at him.

 

He looked hurt and concerned at the same time and put his arms half-around my shoulder. “Tav… just tell me what's wrong.”

 

I knew I was looking at him like he was crazy, one of those bewildered looks. “Andrew… get the fuck out of here.”

 

“Okay!” he rolled his eyes. “Just… come here.”

 

He tugged me so quickly that I practically fell into his chest. He pulled his arm around my shoulders, my head resting against his shoulder as we watched TV for the rest of the night. Meatloaf jumped up and curled up between our laps.

 

I woke up in the morning asleep in my bed. I went into the living room to find Andrew gone, but a note in his place.

 

`Thanks for everything Tav, I'll call you later. Sorry for being troublesome.'

 

- - - -

 

I ran all the way to his apartment. It was the next day after he had left from staying at my place (for the unknown mysterious reason) and I was running all the way to his building. Four blocks down.

 

The wind whipped against my white undershirt, and I felt my corduroys slip down my butt a little. It felt like I was sobbing, but really I was simply heaving from running so fast against the air.

 

Finally I reached his room, and slammed my finger on the buzzer about five times. His roommate finally answered and mumbled rudely at me. Nevertheless the entrance buzzed and I grabbed the cold metal handle and flew upstairs to his room. He was at the door waiting for me, laughing at something his roommate said inside their dark room but turning serious once he saw me.

 

“Can… we… go on a… walk?” I heaved out.

 

“Yeah, let's go,” he nodded, leading me downstairs to the park entrance. He must have thought I was a sight, wheezing my lungs out, my hair tousled and still half-wet, my undershirt thinned out with holes.

 

We sat down at a curb next to a tall oak tree.

 

“What's going on?” he said calmly. As he always was in these types of situations.

 

“I have to tell you something, and I'm not sure how you're going to take it,” I made sure we were sitting at least a foot apart, and started at the pavement between my feet.

 

“Go ahead…” he shrugged.

 

“No, you don't understand!” I turned to him dramatically. “You have to promise me that we'll always be friends. I've never had a friend before! At least not since fifth grade, but even she wasn't a true friend like you are to me. I've put so much of myself out on the line even though I was fucking terrified to death of it. You probably have no idea whatso-fucking-ever.”

 

He put his hand on my shoulder. “Tavish, I swear that we'll be friends as long as we're still alive. Even when we're apart we can be friends.”

 

I nodded, and looked back at my feet, and shrugged his hand off of me.

 

“Okay?” he looked at me. I nodded again. “Okay. Go ahead and tell me.”

 

“I… am in love. With you.”

 

I wasn't looking at him, but I swear I felt his jaw drop to the ground.

 

“W-w-what?”

 

“I just realized I'm in love with you. From the first time we met at this park, when you gave me Meatloaf, when you gave me that gift, when we went to the movies for the first time, when you came over to my apartment the other day and you wouldn't tell me what was wrong. I realized when you let me lean on your shoulder that I really love you. And I don't know what you're going to say… but, I can't help it. I'll understand if you never want to see me again.”

 

He stood up. “Tav, we just agreed to remain friends.”

 

“I know…” I sighed. “I just thought it was a little unrealistic to promise that.”

 

He looked bewildered as I glanced up at him. His expression softened after a moment. “I'm sorry.”

 

I froze up. “Why?”

 

“I don't feel the same way. I don't think I even can. I… love you, Tavish, but—”

 

“But not like I love you.” I finished. I stood up suddenly, avoiding eye contact with him. “Okay. I have to go home.”

 

“Yeah. I'll call you later.” He said quietly.

 

“Okay. Bye.”

 

I parted ways with him and walked home at a very fast pace. I felt the muscles in my face twitch and then twist into a scowling sob. I started crying like I hadn't in a very, very long time. I had always been the ice-man, cold, showing no emotions except that of spite and anger. Now I was totally broken. I was barely able to stick my key into the door to get inside of my apartment.

 

I slumped to the kitchen table after I threw two of the chairs over.

 

Through my blurred eyes, I read the clock. It was one thirty-four in the morning.