~Max~
Yeah, that did just happen, and I am still having a difficult time dealing with the truth of it. It is just so relieving to me; not once did I think this was going to happen. If that was all a dream, I want it to occur in my brain every single time I fall asleep. From what we planned on, we were going to go swimming in the pool, but plans can change instantly, and they certainly did. I feel myself starting to wake up. My eyes begin to reveal where I am located, in Gray's arms, in his bed, in our room. He is really warm, his body is radiating a lot of heat at the moment. I slowly take myself out of his bed and go check the the thermostat over by the door. It is eighty-two degrees, is this a joke?

How could it possibly get that hot in here? I turn the air on, setting the temperature to drop down to seventy-one degrees Fahrenheit. I turn my head back around to check on Gray, he has not moved since I left him alone in his bed, which is extremely comfortable. I step as quietly as I can back over to the bed, afraid I will wake him with one step in the wrong place where a creek in the floor might lie.

Somehow, I manage to make it back into Gray's bed without waking him. My eyes become distracted by his full lips at rest. I have gotten to feel those multiple times. Each kiss he made me feel was bliss at its finest. I have not ever felt such a connection between myself and another person. It is more than sparks, more than electricity, more than fireworks. Is it love?

I could be wrong, but it does not feel like I am wrong. When I am around him, there is something there that is not with anyone else in my life. I feel him inhale a breath and turn his body to face me.

"Hey, you," He grins.

"Hey, you sleep good?" I ask.

"Like a log, you?"

"Same," I mirror his smile at me.

He's glowing right now, glowing of joy. I hope to see more of that, I hope I can continue to cause more of that. We share sentences back and forth for a good forty-five minutes or so. I begin to crave a snack of some sort during the time of talking with my new boyfriend.

"I need a snack," I announce to Gray.

Gray stretches his arms in front of him when he sits up, his fingers lock together in the process, "Me too, let's go see what we have."

As we step out the door to our bedroom in the empty house, we feel a sudden change of a higher temperature by a few degrees. Mr. Fawser usually keeps the house cool by letting the cool air insulate the air inside the house; it makes the walls cold to lean on. I think about what I'm in the mood to eat. Gray is ahead of me and already searching the refrigerator with curious and on-the-lookout eyes. From what I can see when I appear beside Gray, there is a few things I could eat. I could just wait until Tara and Will return home, but my stomach is telling me that isn't the best choice since I have not had anything to eat in a couple hours.

"Anything look good?" Gray asks.

"We can make sandwiches," I suggest when I spot a few ziplock bags of deli meat like turkey, roast beef, and ham.

"Sounds good," Gray takes out the fresh Italian bread from the bakery over near Mrs. Fawser's work; she goes and picks up a new loaf every week after work, it's amazing to say the least.

I've had it as toast and it's beyond delicious. Gray takes out the mayonnaise since I don't like any other condiments on my sandwich like mustard or anything.

"You don't have to do everything," I let Gray know that I can be of help.

"No it's alright, I'll make them. What kind do you want?"

"Roast beef, please," I respond.

"Cheese? There's cheddar, American, provolone, and colby jack," I watch my boyfriend rummage through the small drawer of cheeses in the fridge.

"Colby jack is good," I say.

He takes the colby jack and cheddar cheese sandwich slices out from the drawer and sets them on the marble countertop. As Gray makes our sandwiches, I think about the song I wrote for him. I feel like it might need tweaking; just in some areas with the chord notes on my guitar and the flow of the lyrics. I will sort it out.

Hopefully, I can be fully satisfied with it, then be able to play the final piece for Gray. He has really become such an important part of my life in such a small span of time. My boyfriend evenly puts everything on two slices of bread and places them together without having anything fall out. I know it will be good. Gray slides my plate over to me.

"Thank you,"

"Welcome," Gray responds, taking a seat beside me at the small bar. Sure enough, this sandwich is really good. My taste buds compliment it nicely with each bite. He begins to prepare his own sandwich. He sits on the barstool next to me once he's finished making his sandwich. Very recent events that have occurred in my life recently have gotten my head to do some work in the thinking area, thinking about where to go from here and where I will go from here in this present time. From the day I knew making decisions for myself was an option and a must, I took it seriously. I took it so seriously I would write down goals. I would write down bucket lists. I would write down future plans. I would write down schedules. It all had to make sense ay some point, and it did. Life is no picnic. Decisions require constructive thought in order to make it to the top. Things can get in the way of the constructive thought process, and it can damage the mind long or short term. With my life, I know I need to keep a steady open mind. If I do not, tens of things could end up spiraling out of control.

There is cases where decisions are not a part of the situation and certain things just happen on their own. When I met Gray, I had no intentions of getting together with him. Did I think he was attractive? Yes. Did I expect him to find me attractive? No, of course not. I am not self-centered like that. I did not prepare myself for anything major to happen like this. Not every single thing in life has to be planned out in a notebook or on a calendar. If that was how the world population lived, there would be no room to breathe or do anything fun. Having no fun in life would make life wasteful, would it not?

"What're you smiling about?" Gray noticed my smile I guess; I am not trying to hide it I suppose.

"What happened," I respond, still smiling but not directly at him.

"Oh yeah? It made you happy?"

"Definitely made my head spin, but yeah," I keep my eyes on my sandwich.

"Definitely made your eyes spin backward in your head after awhile,"

Well. He just threw that in there. I mean, he is not wrong. My body was in such a state of euphoria it was all I could have on my mind. Gray, Gray, and more Gray. This one specific person gave me these several specific feelings I cannot even put a word on to sum them all up. A spell has been cast upon my life. A good spell has been cast upon my life.

I clear my throat because I am taken aback by his statement of a genuine memory, "Mhm."

Gray finishes chewing one of the last bites to his sandwich, "Question."

"Ask."

"What were you thinking about during that time?" He asks boldly.

"I couldn't tell you everything because so much was going through my head," I sum up what I can for my roommate.

God, is that all he is anymore? Just my roommate? Or is he more? Much more? So many questions get the privilege to invade my headspace. For the record, I did not give any of these questions any official permission to get in there and jumble things around. No, he is my boyfriend. I wonder if people ever let so many questions get to their head. It seems like such a sensitive thing to let happen, and it is.

"Then just tell me a few things," Gray says.

What do I even begin with in my turn to talk in this conversation? I do not know what I am supposed to say. If I say something too honest or too bold, he may run off. Not literally, but he might run away from this connection we have going, although I believe once really special connections are made, then they cannot be broken as well as disrupted. This, what Gray and I have, seems to be one hell of a special connection. It does not feel worth losing. So maybe I should stick to simple and short.

"I mean, I thought about how it felt, obviously. I thought about if it were to happen again,"

"Do you want it to happen again?" Gray questions and I nod after a second or two.

"Do you want it to happen again?" I have to ask because I am genuinely curious to know.

"No doubt. Felt great, felt right," Gray answers.

"Right?" I repeat.

He places his plate in the giant kitchen sink, "Very."

Very. Very right. It felt very right to him. I can say the same, I can do that. There is time to do this. I could do it now. Right here, right now. Picking up on the vibes I was catching from him was a pretty easy game of chase. His mood is steady and content. His mind is at work like mine. Maybe I cannot read minds, but after that conversation I caught him dazing and staring into space. When everyone in the house sat down to dinner that night, we all had pleasant conversation as if nothing extraordinary happened in previous past hours. I wonder if Gray will tell his parents we had sex.

Woah, it is still so raw. It is so fresh and new in my mind that the feeling still lingers in some way. His face. His lips. His hands. His arms. His chest. His stomach. All of them, my weaknesses lined up from north to south. There is more of him and what he does that makes me blush or laugh like a damn idiot. It has not even been a full year; not even 365 days and this boy has made such a strong impact on my recently-hectic life. If my mom and dad were around, I know they would talk to me about it and give me the best advice they could because that is who they were. The parents of the world, of the universe, in my eyes.

They just always knew what to tell me and how to tell it. It was the same way with my sister, always knew what to say and how, remarkable. If such an event were to come about regarding parents, I would hand them every trophy and award possible. Julia and Garrett Revirro were the parents of the century. They were super parents. My mom and dad saved so many days for me and my sister and made each bad day an incredible one, even if it was just a little bit.

Dinner is over. Gray and I proceeded to buckle down and wash the dishes after scraping our small bits of leftover food into the garbage can. My task is to wash and rinse, Gray dries. The dish soap bubbles surround my hands a tad bit more each time I scrub down a plate, pot, or pan. Gray told me he was asked to do the dishes sometime yesterday but never got around to it. One pot ends up being scrubbed much too thoroughly all of a sudden because a fascinating distraction makes its way into my normal thought process. Fascinating distractions, actually, plural. My mind wanders off into this fantasy where my body is bare; nothing covering me up. Gray walks over to the bed, the place I am located at. He slowly gets on top of me. His lips sit there on his face, pink and a bit plump. They navigate themselves from my neck all the way down to my sensitive abdomen. Passionate pushes of his lips hit around the lower area of my body. I hold in my sounds as best I can, although Gray wants to hear them. He tells me to let it out, release what I am feeling inside. I try to do that as the pressure of his touch and the heat in my body rises. Everything feels so overwhelmingly sensational that all I can do is-

"Max,"

"Hm?" My head snaps in Gray's direction, the right.

"Are you okay?"

My body freezes and so does my ability to get a word out, let alone a few for a proper response. Telling him everything that just played in my brain will probably be crossing the line even though we crossed the line passed friends only.

"Yeah, sorry."