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To say that Rafayel was confused was an understatement - he was puzzled, and a bit worried too. The top student not only in their class, but their entire grade was standing in front of him, observing him with the stoic expression that characterized his face. His right hand was inside the pocket of his white jacket, and it seemed like he was holding onto something.
It was weird since they didn't talk at all. Rafayel barely even knew his name, and that was only because his homeroom teacher wouldn't shut up about how all of them needed to be more like Zayne and follow his example anytime she could.
Zayne was quiet and disciplined. His uniform always looked pristine and neat - never a hair out of place. Excellent grades, always the top scorer in each subject - except for math, where even though he wasn't failing, it wasn't on par with his other grades. But hey, we all had weaknesses.
The two boys stood there in complete, utter silence. The situation was turning awkward, making Rafayel slightly cringe to himself.
They were supposed to be on break. Rafayel had stayed in the classroom so he could nap a little in peace without being disturbed by any of his teachers, while Thomas went to the cafeteria to get them both something to eat. His eagerness to rest had prevented him from noticing he wasn't alone in the room like always.
Before he could fall asleep though, he sensed a presence looking down on him. He opened one eye and realized who it was. Rafayel was surprised, it even took him a minute to remember the other dude’s name, and when he did he bolted out of his seat and stood up. Zayne and him had never talked before, so if he wanted to do it now, he guessed it must’ve been for something serious.
Maybe a teacher had told him something and he needed to pass on the message, or maybe it was one of his classmates using Zayne to relay it, which honestly, didn’t make much sense.
Rafayel didn't know. The only thing he knew though, was that more and more seconds that he could’ve used to sleep before Thomas arrived with their food were going to waste.
A pink envelope suddenly came into his field of vision. It had a heart sticker sealing it in the middle, and if Rafayel didn't know better he would’ve thought that this was a confession letter. But there was no way that was possible. Why would Zayne, class 2-1’s top perfect student, hand him one? to Rafayel, who was a man, no less?
Rafayel’s train of thought was interrupted by his classmate suddenly entrusting the letter onto his hand and saying:
“Classmate Qi, please accept my love letter”.
The younger one was stupefied. He looked back and forth between the offending piece of paper and the messenger, whose pale face remained expressionless, as if he was still in math class taking notes, instead of confessing his feelings for his crush.
Rafayel didn’t want to be rude, so he took the letter hesitantly. He didn’t even know what to say. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Zayne to even be aware of him, much less to harbor secret affections for him.
Zayne was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a reply.
The only thing that came out of his mouth was the thought that had been simmering in his head since the first moment he saw the letter in his hands: “But… I'm a boy.”
His classmate’s deadpan expression didn’t change even a little. “I’m aware.”
“So, you're gay?”
“Clearly.”
Rafayel was dumbfounded, he had received confessions many times before, but never from a boy. He wasn't sure how to turn down one, if the process was supposed to be different than with girls. He scratched his head, looking for something to say. In the end, he stupidly settled with muttering: “Um. Well, I don't like boys so…”
Zayne raised an eyebrow and incredulously looked at him.
Rafayel didn't know why, but he felt offended. “Hey, what's that expression supposed to mean?!”. He straightened up and was about to hand over the letter to its original owner, until he heard footsteps and a familiar voice approaching.
“Sorry for taking so long, the line today was so big”. Thomas opened up the door to the classroom with one of his feet, both hands busy with holding their food.
Rafayel was so startled that he harshly pushed Zayne away from him and put the letter back into his pant’s pocket as fast as he could, crumpling it in the process. He tried to appear normal, but Thomas could tell there was something weird going on. His best friend’s face was flushed and he seemed jittery, as if he was nervous about something.
“Did I miss anything?”
“No!”, Rafayel yelled. He ran toward his friend and grabbed him by the arm, taking him forcibly out of the classroom with tremendous strength. He didn’t care about how he almost made Thomas fall right on his butt and break his leg with the force he exhorted. Being far away from Zayne as soon as possible was the top priority.
Once Rafayel got home, he went straight to his room. The house was empty anyway, with his aunt on a business trip like always. It was a common occurrence; her spending time in the house was actually more strange than for her to be out of it. Of course, she checked on him everyday, either texting him or facetiming him to ensure he was fine.
Still, it was a little lonely. He didn’t dare confess that to Talia, scared that she might slack off in her work just to be with him. He didn’t want to be a bother; she was already dealing with the burden of taking care of him after the passing of his parents, providing him everything he needed and more. The least he could do was try to be as little of an annoyance as possible.
Rafayel took out the crumpled letter out of his pocket and tossed it onto his desk, staring at it as if he could burn it to crisps with only his gaze. He paced around his room for a few minutes, in order to think. He made up his mind and decided to read the letter; afterwards, he’ll act as if it never happened. It’s what he always did anyway, why did it need to be different this time?
Written in the neatest penmanship he had ever seen in his life, laid there the letter:
Dear classmate Qi,
I’m certain that you must not have much of an impression of me, since we have rarely crossed paths despite being in the same classroom for two years in a row. You are someone who doesn’t really pay attention to the business that doesn’t concern you, which is something that I admire about you.
And yet I know that if you have the chance to help out somebody, you’d do it even if it means bringing trouble to yourself. There was this incident last year, involving you and two other kids from a different class. I'm sure you must remember, since it was the event that earned you a reputation around the school. I was passing by, on my way to bring some papers to one of the professors in the teachers room, and I couldn't help but hear the way they were speaking about one of the girls in their class, whose name I can't recall now. I stopped for a moment, wondering if I should reprimand them for their usage of such disgusting words, but before I could even think of my next step, you were there, pouring milk on top of their heads.
You got punished for it, since you refused to say the reason why you did such an action - not wanting to get the female classmate involved.
That was the day I realized I liked you.
But even before that, I had taken notice of you ever since the first day of freshman year, when you arrived late at the flag rising ceremony with your disheveled hair, uniform in disarray and sweat creeping down your face. Back then, I thought you must’ve been one of those kids that did nothing but raise trouble, yet I was wrong. That’s something that you keep doing without even knowing - proving me wrong about you over and over again.
From that moment onwards, I kept seeing you everywhere. Even if I didn't desire to, my eyes were glued to your form. Each time I saw a head of purple from the corner of my eyes it became impossible for me to not observe you. Your sheepish smile, the curvature of your nose and the moles that beautifully decorate your face; they all became a permanent fixture of my everyday, but also of my dreams - day or night ones, it doesn't matter, you were always there.
I'm not expecting an answer from this confession; I can’t even be sure that you'll end up reading it. Nonetheless, I'm writing this in hopes that by making my feelings known it’ll alleviate this weight that I'm carrying - even if it’s just a little.
Just wanted you to know that the sole prospect of seeing you everyday already brightens my day. You’re special to someone, Rafayel, and I hope you’re aware of that.
Your classmate, Zayne.
Rafayel had received many, many confessions in all his sixteen years of living. He’s made an effort to read all of them, not wanting everyone’s efforts to go to waste. He understood better than anyone how mortifying even just the idea of expressing your feelings to someone could be. Multiple times he had the desire to do so, yet he never found the courage until it was too late. That’s why he appreciated every single one he got and never threw any of the letters out; all of them laying on one of his drawers collecting dust.
And yet, none of the love letters he had read could’ve ever prepared him for this one. None of them had ever had such a strong effect on him.
Rafayel was hot all over; his whole body feeling like a burning furnace. He couldn’t see himself, but he was certain that his entire face was red as a tomato. He covered his face with his hand and let out a cry of pain. His neighbors probably wondered if he was being tortured.
He didn’t know how to react or what to feel. His head was a mess and he could sense a dull ache forming in his temples. He didn’t understand why he felt so disoriented, he could simply reject him just like he had done so many times before; but this time, it just felt different. He didn’t want to talk to Zayne, he didn’t even wish to see him again. Rafayel’s mind was in utter chaos and he didn’t want to think why.
Luckily, he apparently didn’t have to worry about that possibility, since Zayne wasn’t expecting an answer from him.
He wanted to talk about this with someone; tell Thomas every single detail of what happened to relieve his mind for a moment from all these thoughts running through it, but he won’t. Whether he asked for it or not, Zayne had trusted him with something delicate, something that he couldn’t just lightly discuss with someone else as if it was some gossip.
So instead, tomorrow he will simply avoid Zayne at all costs and try to forget this incident ever happened. Soon, everything will go back to how it was and Rafayel won’t have to think about such confusing and conflicting thoughts ever again.
The next day after Zayne’s sudden confession, Rafayel was comforted by the knowledge that now they had no reason to interact, both of them sitting on opposite ends of the class: Rafayel on the back and Zayne in the very first row, close to the door. He’ll ensure that they’ll never cross paths by running as fast as he could anytime the bell rang. If he could help it, they won’t be alone together in one place ever again.
Clearly, fate had very different plans for Rafayel. As soon as their homeroom teacher came she reminded everyone that today - of all days - was their seating rearrangement as she had previously announced to them, four days earlier. In all his haste, he had entirely forgotten about it.
Rafayel’s face completely fell as well as his friend’s. Thomas turned his head to look at him and gave him the most pitiful gaze he had ever seen. He understood, he was miserable too; neither of them wanted to leave each other's side, though probably for very different reasons.
The artist wanted to have faith that the chances to get the one person he didn’t want as his deskmate would be slim, but he had never been the luckiest. The gods seemed to rejoice in his suffering each time, so he was prepared for the worst. Nonetheless, he brought his hands together and started praying, because hope is the last thing you should lose.
His prayers went unanswered anyway. When he opened his eyes and saw the new seating chart on the projection screen he felt like a grey cloud was thundering above him, dampening not only his mood but ruining his entire day. He glanced at his side and realized Thomas wasn’t even there anymore, in his stead, the newfound bane of Rafayel’s existence stood, watching him intently.
This was going to be one hell of a semester.
Rafayel was not homophobic, he swore to the heavens. But there was something about Zayne that annoyed him. They had been deskmates for a few weeks now and it had become a hell for Rafayel, especially because it seemed like Zayne was anything but shy about his crush on him, never missing a chance to remind him.
He blatantly stared at him, which bothered him greatly. Trying to embarrass him, Rafayel would tell him to just take a picture, since it’d last longer. Evidently, Rafayel underestimated his deskamte’s shamelessness, because he would only take out his phone and reply with a ‘can i?’. His answer paralyzed Rafayel in place and made him flush from top to bottom. He’d shook his head as hard as he could while Zayne chuckled at his reaction.
Once, the temperature had dropped with no warning and Rafayel had forgotten to bring a coat. He had been shivering the entire day, which didn’t go unnoticed by his classmate. After waking up from a nap during recess, he found himself wrapped in a warm jacket double the size of his own body; its sandalwood scent had a calming effect, muddling his senses and making him unable to regain his consciousness properly until he heard the door of the classroom being opened. He rubbed his eyes still tinged with traces of sleep and glanced in the direction where the sound came from. It was Zayne.
When Zayne came back from wherever he had been and saw Rafayel awake, wearing his jacket, Rafayel swore he could see a smile beaming from his eyes, even though there was not a single visible change in his expression. The artist’s cheeks pinked and his heartbeat started picking up at the visual. He hastily removed the jacket and tossed it aside on his desk, then proceeded to blabber nervously about how Zayne needed to leave him alone.
Alright, maybe he was exaggerating - Zayne wasn’t so terrible. He was nice, he helped both Rafayel and Thomas with problems they had trouble with, no matter the subject. Rafayel knew that math was not the older’s strongest subject, and yet if any of them asked he’d go out of his way to try to help them.
So yes, Zayne might not be so bad, but it was still so incredibly awkward everytime he remembered their first conversation, or whenever he did something that reminded him of his affections toward Rafayel.
Anytime their hands accidentally touched, it brought a shock of electricity through Rafayel’s entire body, making him spring up from his seat while Zayne looked utterly unfazed. Who was the one with a crush here!?
To make matters worse, he couldn’t even escape outside of class either. Thomas had taken a liking to him, which didn’t surprise him at all - his best friend would befriend a rock if he could. Sometimes he invited him to hang out with them when he saw him, and Zayne would always agree. Each time, he’d stare at him while accepting the invitation as if it was Rafayel the one who reached out.
His stupid friend had even asked for his number, resulting in Zayne gladly giving it to him only for him to later ask Thomas for Rafayel’s - the airhead not even thinking twice before doing so. In truth, he couldn’t really blame him, since he didn’t know anything. But the purple haired boy reasoned that a true friend would know his feelings about something without even being told, so he’ll continue to fault him until the end of time.
Zayne texted him sometimes, yet Rafayel ignored most of them. He felt bad doing so, but he convinced himself it was for the greater good. He was getting used to Zayne and that only meant trouble.
Today, the cafeteria was full; only a few seats remained. Rafayel and Thomas made their way through the crowded place trying to find somewhere to sit. Before they could give up and go back to the classroom to eat there instead, a feminine voice called out to them. It was Yvonne, Zayne’s previous deskmate. She had her hand raised and was insistently yelling at them. “Sit here!”
The two boys stared at each other, and even though Rafayel was pleading with his eyes to not go, his message didn’t reach his simple minded friend and he immediately made his way toward them.
When Rafayel unwillingly reached their table, Yvonne stood up and patted the place she was sitting two seconds ago with a blinding smile on her face, wanting him to sit there instead. Zayne was right beside it.
It dawned on Rafayel right there and there, she knew. He was horrified. He wondered if Greyson - their other friend - also knew. Yet when he spared him a glance he seemed confused by Yvonne’s action, just like Thomas. He let out a breath of relief. He could deal with only one more person knowing, but not more.
Rafayel sat down awkwardly. He nodded at Zayne as a greeting, not having much to say to his deskmate. Zayne looked embarrassed at his friend’s behaviour, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he closed his eyes and pursed his lips in annoyance.
Not long after, they all started talking - Thomas and Greyson leading the conversation. The latter was complaining about a senior girl he liked but that didn't pay him any mind, no matter what he did. Yvonne knew her, so Greyson tried to convince her to help him, with no success.
“She doesn’t like you!”
“She said that to you?”, Greyson whined. Yvonne patted him in the back as a comforting gesture - though it was made difficult by Thomas' pondering form in between them.
Talking about crushes and love made Thomas' train of thought arrive to its next destination, much to Rafayel’s chagrin:
“Do you have someone you like, Zayne?”, Thomas asked.
That question perked Rafayel’s ears up, making him wonder what he’d reply. He’ll obviously deny it, he reasoned.
“Nah, he doesn’t have time for stuff like that. He’s always with a book down his nose, right?”, Greyson laughed. Yvonne stared at him in irritation. She tried to kick him on the shin - hitting Thomas instead. He immediately cried out in pain, yet they went ignored once Zayne spoke:
“I do.”
Rafayel almost choked on his food. He did not expect Zayne to be so bold.
Both Greyson and Thomas stared at him in bewilderment, while Yvonne covered her mouth, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Who?”
“Is she pretty?”
“Do we know her?”
Were the questions that came out in succession out of both of the boys sitting side by side in the bench in front of them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zayne tried to observe the owner of his affections in order to guess what he was allowed to say or not say. He decided to stay silent and continue eating.
Obviously, Greyson and Thomas would not be content with their questions going unanswered so they stayed pestering him throughout the entire lunch, even after Yvonne tried to get them to shut up multiple times.
Rafayel simply stared intensely at the table like it was the most interesting thing he saw in his life, his appetite suddenly vanishing. No one, except for his deskmate, noticed his sour mood.
When they went back to class, Zayne whispered a small “sorry” to him as they sat down. He passed him a chocolate bar down the desk.
It made him smile, just a tiny bit.
After the cafeteria incident, all of them hanging out as a group became more and more common. Yvonne even added both of them to their group chat after a week.
Needless to say, escaping Zayne became an impossible task. At school, he was always there and now even after it, with their groups merging and hanging out constantly at the milk tea shop near the school grounds. They went there almost everyday, and today was no exception.
As Thomas ordered for both of them at the counter, he sat down and Zayne followed behind him. The store had a couch that once upon a time used to be reserved only for him anytime Thomas and him went there, but that now belonged to both him and Zayne - regardless of how many times Rafayel protested and told him to sit somewhere else.
Rafayel took out his phone from his bag and started playing one of his games.
“What was your order again, Zayne?”, Thomas asked aloud.
Before he could reply, someone else beat him to it:
“A caramelized brown sugar with fresh milk and as many pearls as you can add. Large. Oh, and a piece of strawberry cream cake too.” Rafayel said without even looking up from his phone.
Everyone was surprised, albeit Rafayel didn’t seem to realize. Yvonne was giggling behind her hand, trying to hide her reaction unsuccessfully. Zayne was embarrassed, but no shame could overpower the strong feeling such an inconsequential action provoked him. His ears were so red, and his stomach felt like it was about to burst from the amount of butterflies inside it.
To distract himself, he pulled out his workbook and started doing his homework.
After some time, their milk teas were ready and Thomas alongside Yvonne started handing them out.
Rafayel looked up to receive it and got a glimpse from the corner of his eye of Zayne dutifully working hard on his schoolwork. He was the only person he had ever seen pull out his work in any place with no care, and it used to annoy him, thinking that it was meant to show off. Now, after getting to know him better, it endeared him.
To be truthful, Rafayel was getting used to the top student’s presence. He’d go so far as to say they were becoming friends, and the idea didn’t really repulse Rafayel as much as it once did. The time he spent with him was pleasant, and he had a dry sense of humor that he enjoyed.
Whenever they went to the arcade, he’d try to get Zayne some of the plushies that reminded him of the top student - the seal and the astronaut penguin being the prime choices. Yes, he tried, with all his might but most of the time he couldn’t get anything. He’d sulk and blame his terrible luck on everything but himself until he managed to get at least one, after the tenth attempt.
Zayne would be there beside him, watching him with a smile on his face. No one could blame him, Rafayel was too cute, especially whenever he got excited over finally winning him something. These rare plushies that his classmate got him were like treasures to him - worth more than gold.
Most of the time, Rafayel even forgot the reason why he didn’t want anything to do with this guy in the first place.
Though it was moments like these, that reminded him:
As he scrolled through his phone, he received multiple We Chat notifications one after another, all coming from the same person. Zayne had liked five of his posts, some of them even a few years old. He hadn’t even realized when his deskmate stopped his work and took out his phone from his bag.
Every single day, Zayne continued to surprise him more and more. He was sitting there, right beside Rafayel with his head bent, focused on his phone as he slurped happily on his drink. Anyone who saw him might think he was concentrating on watching a lecture, reading a book perhaps, like all the smart kids tend to do. But no, he was stalking Rafayel, unabashedly, with his characteristic nonchalance. This guy had no shame.
During one of their self study sessions, Rafayel - motivated by Zayne’s inability to procrastinate - tried to actually work on his homework early, instead of waiting until the last moment like always.
But after successfully completing some of the exercises he got stuck in a succession of problems, and no matter how many times he looked at his notes and tried to remember the teacher's explanation, he couldn't get either of them. He ruffled his hair with his hand in frustration, messing it up and making it look like a bird’s nest.
He glanced toward his deskmate’s place and noticed he was already looking at him, smiling at his ardent struggle.
Rafayel frowned and asked him if he was having fun, watching him suffer.
Zayne nodded, making Rafayel huff out a breath in exasperation.
“Do you need help?”
“No, I don't”, he sulked as he tried to cover his workbook with his arms.
“Hmm, suit yourself”, he mumbled. Zayne pretended that he believed him and instead of helping him set out to clear his desk, having finished all his work some while ago.
Out of nowhere, the bell rang - signaling the end of the school day. Rafayel resigned himself to finishing the rest of the problems at home, just like he tried to avoid.
Once at home, after a fresh shower and enjoying a hearty seafood meal, the artist was ready to tackle his schoolwork. As he was about to search for tutorials online in order to finish these questions, his phone buzzed. Zayne had sent him four videos, each of them explaining in great detail all of the problems he had trouble with today.
From the angle they were filmed he could see his desk, how bare and neat it was. Except for some of the plushies Rafayel had won for him peeking out from the corner of it. The younger had thought that he’d throw them out, having no need for such unnecessary things. It made him happy to see that he was wrong.
He texted him a quick thank you and right away, he got a reply. “Always.”, it read. He sent a little snowman sticker too, and a warm smile illuminated Rafayel’s features at the adorable gesture.
Afterwards, they started texting more and more. Zayne would send him videos of himself explaining different subjects everyday at nine pm sharp. Sometimes, he would ‘accidentally’ send him videos of his cat nuzzling his hand and even playing with him.
Rafayel would tell him without fail to put that malicious beast away and complain about how clearly he could see the evil in its eyes, yet anytime he didn’t update him on her adventures for a day he’d ask if she had already gotten tired of Zayne and finally ran away, just like all the treacherous creatures of its species are programmed to do, until Zayne sent another picture or video of her again.
Rafayel would ‘accidentally’ send some of Reddie - his fish - too. It created a back and forth between them, with them now messaging every single day.
Occasionally, he would also send some of the art pieces he was working on, a few of his sketches including Zayne’s beast, only drawing her since he could tell it made his deskmate happy. Lately though, the source of his inspiration had been a particular person; however, those were meant only for his very own eyes to see.
If anyone had told the Rafayel of months ago that he’d be eagerly awaiting everyday to talk to Zayne - the quiet and prim top student of their class who confessed his love for him - despite already seeing him and talking to him in class eight hours a day, he’d think they were smoking crack.
And yet, it was true.
The karaoke room for Thomas’ birthday party was bursting with people. His best friend was a social butterfly, so it wasn’t really a surprise.
He didn’t know most of the people there, only recognizing the people from his class and some others he had seen in passing, like the blonde haired dude that was in the basketball team with Thomas. He was sitting next to a girl, one Rafayel was very much acquainted with. He used to have a crush on her throughout all of middle school and freshman year, until she got with her boyfriend. He thinks his name was Xavier, or something like that. The girl and him were still friends, though they weren’t as close as they used to be. Different classes, friends and schedules made them drift apart slowly.
When she caught sight of him from across the room she waved at him, shouting his name with a dazzling smile on her face. Rafayel waved back, and realized belatedly that even as he stared at her, he didn’t feel anything anymore. Before, whenever she spared him even the most minuscule attention his heart would hammer fast in his chest and his palms would sweat nervously. Now, he was just happy to see one of his friends again. He didn’t realize when he stopped having feelings for her, but the thought didn’t provoke anguish like he once thought, only indifference.
Her boyfriend didn’t seem to share that happiness though. Rafayel noticed how the captain of the basketball’s team expression contorted into a frown and then changed back so fast once she went back to talking to him. It almost gave him whiplash.
He couldn’t linger on that visual for long however, since the person coming into the room was hoarding everyone’s attention.
“Zayne, you came!”. Thomas yelled into the mic he was using to sing, making everyone wince at the loud sound. He cringed and lowered the mic, apologizing to everyone.
“Come, sit down, sit down.” He was signing to the empty space on the couch by Rafayel’s left. He looked to where Thomas gestured, his face illuminating as he saw who was there.
Rafayel smiled at him, genuinely glad to see him - until he caught himself and masked his expression to an apathetic one. The artist had been thinking, and he realized that his friendly actions could’ve been giving Zayne the wrong impression; giving him hope for something that could never be. So from now on, he’ll maintain his distance with him. They could still be friends, but he won’t be as amiable as before.
He made space and allowed him to sit beside him, yet anytime Zayne tried to start a conversation he’d respond dryly and pretend to focus on the game on his phone.
Zayne’s face fell. They had been doing so well, with Rafayel finally accepting him - even if it was just as friends. Did he do something wrong?
In the middle of the room there was a group consisting of Yvonne, Greyson and Simone playing kitty cards. They were drinking alcohol as a penalty for losing, and with the way things were going it seemed like Greyson was very much on his way to getting shitfaced pretty soon. They invited the birthday boy to join them and he immediately gave the karaoke mic to some white haired guy that was waiting next to him and went to sit down with them, not wanting to miss the chance of getting blackout drunk on such a special day.
As they were preparing to play the next round, Simone - who was sitting close by Zayne - asked him if he wanted to play. He accepted right away.
They played a few rounds, with Zayne winning the first few ones, until he eventually lost. All of them were cheering, as they finally managed to defeat him when it seemed impossible. Thomas passed him a shot, but it was intercepted by Yvonne.
“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. You can just do a dare”, Yvonne reassured him.
“It’s fine”. He took the glass from her hand and downed it.
Even though Rafayel was trying to appear like he was fully submerged in his game, the truth was that he was still paying the utmost attention to Zayne. Him deciding to play such a game surprised him, not taking him for someone who was willing to drink so leisurely, while underage too.
The group continued playing, and after a few minutes Rafayel decided to check up on Zayne. The first thing he noticed when he brought his gaze back up was the basketball team’s captain trying to snatch the microphone away from the red eyed dude that kept hoarding the karaoke machine for four songs straight. Mentally, he cheered for the captain. He was sure his ears were starting to bleed a little from all that offkey ‘singing’.
The second thing was how hammered Zayne already was after drinking just one small glass. His face was red, and his movements were lethargic. He seemed like he’d pass out anytime soon.
He had lost another round, and so he needed to drink. Before he could, Rafayel took his glass and drank it for him. “I’ll play”. He snatched Zayne’s cards from his hands and made him sit back on the couch.
It took a few seconds for the black haired boy to understand what was going on, his gaze and mind hazy. When he did, he closed his eyes and fell asleep right away.
After an hour or so, Rafayel decided that it was enough; he needed to take Zayne home. He said goodbye to everybody, woke up the top student and then grabbed him with some difficulty.
Even though Zayne had only drank a little, he was fully drunk. His face was red, matching the color of his ears. He was sleepy too, muttering nonsense to himself. Since he couldn't even stand on his feet without staggering, Rafayel had to support him, gripping him by the shoulders with one arm.
Once they were out on the street, he wanted to get him in a taxi and put him on his way home, but when he was about to ask for his address, his deskmate passed out again. He was heavy, bigger than Rafayel and it almost brought them both down to the floor.
Rafayel went into the first store he found and made the older boy sit down at one of the tables while he went to the counter to buy some water to sober him up.
He grabbed Zayne's head, patted him on the cheeks until he could tell he was conscious and made him drink the water bottle. He was still sleepy, and after Rafayel finished aiding him he fell back asleep with his head on the younger’s shoulder.
Minutes passed; Zayne slightly opened his eyes and looked at him intently. He wasn't wearing his usual glasses, so it was the first time Rafayel saw his eyes properly this close. They were beautiful - Zayne was beautiful. Kind of absurd, how long it had taken him to realize such an obvious truth.
The sight before him made his heart constrict in his chest, leaving him breathless. He noticed Zayne’s blushing face, his heavy eyes languidly blinking, his eyelashes - how long they were and the way they fanned his cheeks everytime he closed them. His gaze went lower, until he was met with Zayne’s pink, parted lips. At that moment, Rafayel had an idea; a very dumb idea.
It seemed like Zayne shared his very same thought, for he was slowly inching closer to him, eyes glued to his mouth.
Before anything could happen, the smell of alcohol hit him in the face, bringing him back to his senses. With his hand on his chest, he pushed Zayne back and created some distance between them. Zayne was drunk, it wasn't right.
The artist realized, with some apprehension, that if it wasn't because of his deskmate’s intoxicated state, he would’ve kissed him.
Rafayel, the self proclaimed straight boy, would’ve gladly let himself be kissed, by another boy. A boy that happened to be his classmate, the one he had swore to himself many times before he’d never like.
He wasn’t sure what was more mortifying: the fact that he might actually like boys, or that he didn't mind it.
During the weekend, Rafayel had ignored every single message Zayne had sent him. In fact, he ignored everyone. He spent the entire two days rotting on his bed, rehashing everything in his mind.
The revelation that he probably was, in fact, attracted to his own gender had turned his world into its axis. His mind was in an even worse state than when Zayne had confessed to him.
He didn’t want to like Zayne, he just wanted everything to go back the way it had been before.
Monday morning came and Rafayel looked like death itself. He had dark circles under his eyes and was paler than usual. As was expected, all of his friends were worried. He didn’t communicate with any of them for two days straight and when they finally saw him again he looked like shit and refused to talk.
He spent the entire day sleeping between classes. Not even once did he raise his head, no matter what his teachers said to him.
Zayne tried to nudge him awake so they could speak multiple times, but it was fruitless. Everytime he did, Rafayel would hide deeper into the cocoon he made of his arms.
The only reason he had even gone to school that day was because Talia had come back. Seeing the state he was in she wanted to talk to him, but Rafayel had no energy for it, preferring to avoid his aunt because he knew that if she managed to trap him for more than thirty seconds - staring at him with all the understanding and kindness in the world pouring out from her eyes - he’d spill everything, and he couldn’t handle that right now.
When it was time for lunch, he refused to go out and continued to pretend he was sleeping. Some time later, he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching and sensed someone leaving something on top of his desk. They hesitantly stood there for a moment before hurriedly going back down again.
Rafayel raised his head and opened his eyes to see what they brought once they left. It was a sandwich and a juice box, next to some macarons. He smiled weakly, for the first time since friday.
Once it was time to go back home, he waited until everyone else left before he also could leave. He checked that the coast was clear and stood up, stretching his limbs as he took his backpack and made his way to the door.
Sadly for him, his plans of peacefully returning home and then continuing to sleep the rest of the day were ruined by a familiar mop of black hair blocking the only exit.
“We need to talk”. Zayne sounded deeply serious - a hint of anger mixing with the concern in his voice. He grabbed the shorter boy by the wrist and dragged him to the rooftop of their school. This was not a conversation that others could be privy to.
They reached the roof, and Zayne wasted no time:
“You’ve been ignoring me since Thomas’ party”
Rafayel stayed silent, staring at the ground. He hoped that it would burst open and drag him down so he wouldn’t have to talk about this.
“I’m sorry.”
Rafayel almost broke his neck from how fast he raised it at those words.
“If I did something to you while I was drunk…”, Zayne choked on his words and was unable to continue.
Rafayel shook his head. “What? what made you even think that?”
The artist - who seconds ago would not take his eyes off the ground in fear of what he might find - was trying desperately to make his deskmate look at him, while now it was Zayne’s turn to avoid his gaze in shame.
“That's the only explanation… i rem-”
“No”. Rafayel interrupted him and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
Zayne finally looked back up. “Then why?”
The artist was pacing up and down the roof, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He brushed his hair back from his face and closed his eyes, finding the determination to speak after what felt like an eternity.
“I’m scared, or I don't know what I feel. I don’t know what to think. I’m confused - you confuse me, Zayne.”
“Since friday, i’ve been thinking - it’s the only thing i could do; think. And, I'm tired. I’m so, so tired.”
The older boy couldn’t do anything else but bring him into his arms. Rafayel snuggled as close as he could, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, searching for comfort. Zayne gripped the back of his neck and caressed it gently.
They stood there for a while, seconds turning into minutes. The artist managed to calm down - as much as he could - and decided it was time to finally confess what had been gnawing at his insides for three days straight, maybe even longer:
“Zayne, i like you, alright?”, he mumbled on his shoulder.
The black haired boy stopped breathing. He had been dreaming of hearing those words for so long, and he couldn't believe it was truly happening.
“The entire weekend I tried to convince myself that I didn't, that I was just confused and my mind was playing tricks on me. But it’s not true.”
Rafayel tried to separate himself from him, but Zayne didn't let him. He only managed to get as few centimeters away, enough for them to be face to face.
“Zayne, I like you. I really, really like you. I’m not sure when I started to feel this way; the only thing I'm sure of is that I want to be with you. I want to be your boyfriend and spend all the time that I can with you. Will you let me?”
Rafayel’s gaze was pleading. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, but Zayne caught them before they could fall.
The older boy cupped his face and just watched him for a few seconds; and then, he just started laughing in his face.
It was the first time Rafayel had ever seen Zayne smile so wide; It was the first time he had ever seen him laugh so hard.
He was trying to commit the sight to memory, not knowing when he’ll ever be able to observe such a rare and fine visual again.
His viewing got obstructed by the older suddenly pressing both of their lips together in a soft and sweet kiss. If It could even be called a kiss, since it was mostly teeth. Two identical wide smiles breaking out in both of their faces as soon as their lips made contact.
They stood there, swaying together as they continued to hold each other as tight as they could.
“We should probably go”, Zayne murmured, trying to be the voice of reason. Though he made no move to let go of his new boyfriend.
‘Boyfriend’. Just the thought of the word made him smile and blush once again.
Rafayel pouted and burrowed deeper into his shoulder. “I don’t want to”.
Few minutes passed and Zayne resigned himself to be the responsible one out of the two. He tried to unstick himself from Rafayel with some difficulty, since the latter refused to let him go.
Finally escaping out of his tight embrace, they made their way out of the campus - hands interlaced.
There were still some students remaining in the school grounds. When Rafayel saw them, he let go of Zayne’s hand as if it was burning.
Rafayel stared at him, clearly frightened. He may accept the fact that he liked men now, but the possible harsh reaction everyone else would have at them still scared him.
On the contrary, Zayne paid it no heed. He grabbed his hand again, interlocking their fingers together tightly, scared that the shorter boy would run away in embarrassment after his bold action.
He didn't have anything to worry about though, because Rafayel couldn't run even if he tried to. He was stuck in place, mouth hung open and an intense flush spread all over his face. He couldn't believe Zayne held his hand just like that, in front of so many of their classmates, as if it was the most normal thing in the world; without a care for the gossip and judgement that would enthrall.
As they kept walking, more and more of the students started taking notice of them. Rafayel’s face mirrored his classmate's dumbfounded expressions. All the other kids making their way home stopped in their tracks and stared at them, turning around to mutter and take photos of the exciting sight before them.
Gossip traveled fast, and by tomorrow almost everyone at school would know about them - the pictures and videos spreading like wildfire.
And yet, Rafayel couldn't care less.
[thomasss shared a picture to the group chat]
thomasss: guys
thomasss: guys
thomasss: GUYS??????????
thomasss: ????????????