"No, he isn't," he found himself saying.
He slumped down to his bed, running his fingers through his hair as his heart rate rose. He knew deep down what this feeling was, what he'd been feeling for a while now. He was too stubborn to open his eyes and see it for what it was.
And how could he?
He's kind to me now, but what if he finds out the truth? My identity and my feelings? No matter what kind of glass it is, there will always be a bottom right?
So, there's no point in admitting or even entertaining these feelings. They will fade, or go away with time. Things need to be fed in order for them to grow right? So all I need to do is avoid feeding them. Simple. Problem solved.
"Besides, we are complete opposites! Our signs aren't even compatible." He muttered to himself.
~*~
