[It would be easier to run than answer that question, easier to force down the onslaught of his feelings and push Vincent away. He could sling words like razor blades that would cut him deep, maybe even keep him from coming back — if he wanted to.
But that was just it. He didn't want to. For reasons beyond his understanding, Kit felt more at home in this moment than he ever had within the walls of this house before. He was terrified of what he wanted, of needing Vincent to stay.
As if his parents' home were to blame, Kit released his hold on the jacket Vincent wore and slammed his fist against the door frame above his head. At some point he needed to act. At some point he wouldn't be able to stand there anymore with Vincent looking expectantly up at him. He had to do something. Just as he had challenged the other boy to do.
But what was right anymore? What feelings could he trust and which ones would lead him to more disaster?]
I'm so tired of this...
[Tired of thinking, tired of caring, and just...tired.
Yet, when he pulled away this time it wasn't on his own. His hand lowered, fingers prying Vincent's from his shirt only to tightly knit themselves in between. Then, without another word, he gave the other boy a tug and started towards his bedroom down the hall.]
can't complain it looks better than my above fail
But that was just it. He didn't want to. For reasons beyond his understanding, Kit felt more at home in this moment than he ever had within the walls of this house before. He was terrified of what he wanted, of needing Vincent to stay.
As if his parents' home were to blame, Kit released his hold on the jacket Vincent wore and slammed his fist against the door frame above his head. At some point he needed to act. At some point he wouldn't be able to stand there anymore with Vincent looking expectantly up at him. He had to do something. Just as he had challenged the other boy to do.
But what was right anymore? What feelings could he trust and which ones would lead him to more disaster?]
I'm so tired of this...
[Tired of thinking, tired of caring, and just...tired.
Yet, when he pulled away this time it wasn't on his own. His hand lowered, fingers prying Vincent's from his shirt only to tightly knit themselves in between. Then, without another word, he gave the other boy a tug and started towards his bedroom down the hall.]