Running BloodlessMature

A story I wrote back in high school back in 2006/2007.
It tells the story of Dave, living a somewhat quiet life until someone from his past returns who threatens to crush everything.

He looked as if he was asleep. I could see his head and shoulder above the tub's rim. His hand and leg both hung over it, blood dripping from his toes and fingertips. I move across the black-and-white checkered floor towards him. I leaned over the tub, the water's color was a deep crimson, tainted with blood. I looked around for the bloodiest part on his body. He had slit his wrists...

I rose my head off my desk, tears in my eyes. My senses were in overdrive. I could detect the roaring of the air conditioner, the early morning rays, and birds chirping a little more clearer. I turned my head to find myself at my computer, my anime slideshow across the screen. I was brought back to reality when groans and moans emanated from my bed. There lay the boy from my dream, actually asleep. And alive. He rolled over, his hands and legs spread across the bed, his face and naked torso illuminated by the morning rays above him. The rest of his body was covered by sheet, his feet sticking out at the edge of the bed. I gave a mental chuckle at the sight of the black polish I had painted on his toes as he slept. I was so immersed that I didn't hear him calling my name.

"Are you amazed at my feet?" A groggy voice said.

"I am. You should be too." I couldn't help but grin as he sat up from the bed, a confused look on his face.

His eyes were open so wide I could see the white parts from the other side of the room. I laughed at the sound of his gasps and screams.

"I'm gonna get you back for that Dave." He said as he was wiping his toes with a cotton ball, a bottle of nail polish remover in his other hand.

I snicker and glance at him from my computer as I type,still working on the same story that fatigued me into an unexpected slumber the night before.

"So what does Ken do today?" I hear him say, talking about my story's protagonist.

"He waits til his lover is asleep and paints his toenails," I say jokingly.

He laughs a little with a another dab at his toe. "All done. Hey Dave, you've been working on that all morning. You gonna rest?" He walks over to me, his head perched on my shoulder.

" I did," I say, "I watched that movie with you last night, remember?"

"No, I don't remember." He said as he moved back to the bed, pulling his black shirt over his head, "I mean I remember last night, just not watching the movie." He looked back at me, a carnal look on his face.

I looked away, blushing. I'd remembered last night in all its entirety, there was a reason why that boy had to give a little more effort than usual to find his clothes this June morning. I wanted to repeat the actions of last night when he walked over to me, our lips devouring each other. As our lips parted, he bit his lip, wanting more. I gave him a smirk. We were deeply considering to repeat what we did last night when the alarm clock gave a shriek. It was nine a.m.

"Crap!" he said as he looked around frantically for his clothes, "I gotta get to practice." He gave a quiet yelp as he found his pants under a pile of books. He threw them on, along with his socks and shoes, and grabbed his bag. He ran over to me, giving me a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

I heard the door open and close as he left. I heard his voice greet another person and a knock came to my door.

I was on what seemed to be a happy high as I walked to my door. Last night could not have been better. I opened the door to find my best friend Miranda standing at the door apparently surprised at the sight of me.

"Hey!" I say, "Come on in."

I hear a hesitant "Hey" as she closes the door coming in after me. I turn to her, concerned.

"What's wrong?"

Her eyes seemed fixated on my lower body. I ask again, and she looks up at me, a grin on her face.

"I just have one question," she said, "Where are your clothes?"

I give her a mystified look and look down at myself. A half a second later, I was dashing up the stairs back into my room and slamming the door behind me, Miranda's hysterical laughter echoing through my ears. My happy high was gone, and so were my clothes.

The End

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