Just a Question of Love - part 28

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
Owen gets a little more information - good or bad?

Submitted: December 07, 2008

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Submitted: December 07, 2008

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He throws a devilish grin my way. “You can stay, for now.” He’s teasing – I hope. “Unless you get on my nerves.”

 

This time I laugh because I do know that he’s kidding. He stands on his tip toes – to close to two inch height gap between us – and gives me a kiss that takes my breath away. I pull his body closer to mine, craving more of his touch, as I deepen the kiss. His one hand is winding through my hair while the other rests over my heart – which is quickly becoming his.

 

He’s the one that breaks the kiss, leaning back and smiling up at me; I pout back. He laughs and shakes his head but grabs my hand anyways, leading towards another door. Undoubtedly his bedroom; my heart rate races at the thought. He opens the door and I expect my senses to be assaulted by another white room, but that is not what I see.

 

Seafoam green walls that catch the light streaming in from the window. Black and white eerily beautiful photographs on all the walls. But the one thing that catches my eye is a bulletin board littered with pictures; I can’t help but be drawn to it. I recognize some shots of the people: Libby, Isaac, obviously Matt. But there are a lot of interesting characters I haven’t met yet. Two goth girls hugging with the Statue of Liberty in the background. A tall black guy wearing a cowboy hat. A stunning blond girl with her arm linked through Matt’s. Matt and a Spanish looking guy laying in Autumn leaves, laughing. A group of about 20 people – the most eclectic group I’ve ever seen.

 

But two photos jump out from the pack. Matt in a tux, looking absolutely gorgeous and Libby on his arm in a red halter dress. Both are smiling brilliantly in front of a glittery archway. It looks like...

 

“Is this from a prom?” I ask him. He gets up from a bright blue bean bag chair and walks over. He looks at the picture.

 

“Yeah.” He smiles as he looks at it; I feel a familiar pang of doubt. “She didn’t go to my school but her boyfriend was a dick and dumped her the day before prom.”

 

“Ouch,” I say, thinking of Megan.

 

“Yeah, shitty, eh? So she wasn’t going to go, but I couldn’t let that happen. She looked way too hot in that dress,” a little chuckle, “and she was so excited. So I went as her date. Her ex was pissed off! It was great.”

 

“It sounds like you two are really close...” I say, hoping I don’t sound suspicious.

 

“She’s been my best friend since we were 12,” he says, but doesn’t offer further explanation.

 

I look back at the other photo which caught my eye. A woman with shining blond hair and clear blue eyes. She has high cheek bones and pouty, full lips parted in an ethereal smile. Next to her is a very handsome man. Black hair, eyes nearly the same color. The woman is very slim in a flaming red jacket while the man has broad shoulders and – I suspect – muscles under his blue coat. They are sitting together on a bench, with the Eiffel tower in the background.

 

“Who are these people? They are... the most stunning couple I’ve ever seen.” I can’t tear my eyes away from them – something seems vaguely familiar about them.

 

Matt looks over my shoulder. “Yeah, I come from good genes.”

 

I turn to look at him, sprawled out on the bed. “Your parents?”

 

“Yep. They met in college. My dad was from Colorado but was at the Art Institute of Paris. My mom was a native Parisian. They met and instantly fell in love – or so they used to tell me.” He looks wistful. “They were the happiest couple I’ve ever seen. Until... you know.” Now, he just looks sad.

 

I lay down on my side next to him in bed, stroking his hand lightly. “I’m sorry.” It’s lame, but it’s all I can think to say.

 

“You better be,” he says, looking a little sinister. “We haven’t had sex in what, two weeks?”

 

Another devilish grin, but I quickly correct, “Ten days.”

 

“Same diff,” he counters.

 

“Well,” I say, moving closer until our bodies are touching from head to toe. “Let’s change that.” 


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