Tender Hearts Only Get Torn Apart

So, I’ve put up two chapters today. Some reviews would be nice.
Rising tension in this chapter. Maybe we’ll get to some boy lovin’ soon. ;D

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[Jason’s POV]

“Alex.”

He’s still looking at me like I just fell out of the sky, which to his credit is what seemingly happened. One second he’s standing on the sidewalk, not doing any harm, the next he’s laying here on the hard damp concrete with a lapful of little old me.

I’m still blushing, my face incredibly hot with the fresh wave of blood and the humidity around me. He looks absolutely gorgeous, startled caramel eyes with those womanly eyelashes framing them, his eyes coated in a thick layer of what appears to be smudged eyeliner, and I notice from this close that his eyelashes are actually dark brown. A pink tongue darts out to wet his lips and I scramble off of him quickly, not wanting to embarrass myself any further by poking a hole through my pants. Instead, I reach a hand down to help him up. He doesn’t take it, but instead lifts himself up with a slight grunt of effort and starts brushing his tight red skinny jeans off.

Good god he must think I’m crazy by now.

I’m still blushing when I decide to open my big mouth, digging a grave with my tongue. I seem to be good at it.

“U-um, if you don’t mind my asking, why exactly were you standing in the middle of the walkway?” I manage to stutter it all out without a blood vessel bursting, even though I feel on the verge of passing out. It’s pretty hard to stand face to face with someone who denied giving you the time of day not even twenty four hours ago, I quickly came to realize.

And now he’s looking at me like I’m insane. It’s got to be over ninety degrees out but he’s wearing a tiny Metro Station hoodie and two large belts around his hips, along with those killer pant of his. He pulls a small bottle out of seemingly nowhere and squirts a bit of the contents into his hands. The smell of antiseptic wafts heavily over to me and I cough, but he’s just smearing it into the flesh of his hands as if it doesn’t smell like it’ll burn them off to the bone. Which it does. Smell that way I mean.

To tell the truth, this isn’t exactly how I pictured meeting him again. I figured we’d bump shoulders at a local venue, or spot each other in a small record store. Nothing too big, or nearly as embarrassing as this. But at least I get to see him again.

That same chipped nail job is still present from yesterday, lime green with flecks of fleshy pink showing through. Those slender fingers reach up and push his shoulder-length wavy hair behind his ear, and I recognize it as a gesture of irritation. He’s glaring at the sidewalk now and takes three steps backwards before glancing back into the dusty, abandoned window of Phil’s hobby shop.

“I came looking for a sketchbook for my brother. But I can’t seem to find my way around…” Alex turns to me, his bangs falling back into his eyes. He doesn’t bother to push the hair back this time. His gaze is softer by just a bit, and he offers up a shy smile.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask for your assistance again,” he jokes with a twist of his dark pink lips. “Does this town have an art supplies shop, or is it lacking in that department too?”

My jaw is hanging loose by now, I just know it. He has a brother? He needs my help? What?

Mentally I smack myself, getting my thoughts together. This may be the guy of my dreams talking to me finally, but just standing there like a fish out of water isn’t going to help him at all. I think about all of the stores in town and realize that I’ve never seen so much as a colored pencil anywhere other than Wal-mart… or Jillian’s. I swear he somehow manages to stock that small market with everything except for clothing. Even then he sometimes has large bins of old donated shirts for fifty cents, which most people buy just to buy. And I really can’t help but feel my heart swell inside my chest at my good luck, because this means Alex will be headed right in the same direction as me.

“Actually…” I stop and grin, stepping around him to continue walking. “We’re not ‘lacking in that department’. Jillian sells brushes and a rainbow of paints and sketchbooks of all sizes at his place. I was just headed there. It’s only about five minutes’ walk away.” I motion for him to follow me.

Alex stands there a moment before following me quickly, a look of mistrust on his face. In a way it kind of hurts that he thinks I may be leading him into a dark alley to rape him, but I get over it quickly and turn back around to face my path, the other male sliding up beside me. Actually, I realize that he was probably right to mistrust me. My plan hadn’t been that far off when I’d first bumped into him.

“So, uhm..” I cough, trying to clear my throat. “You uh, like Metro Station?”

Alex looks up at me again like I’m stupid or crazy or both. Then a look of understanding alights his face, and he smiles widely. “Oh, no. This is my brother’s. I couldn’t find mine… I‘m more of an Anti-flag guy.” He plays with one of his belts for a moment, trailing of as I stare at him in shock. Jeez, how could a guy be any more perfect? He likes comics, skinny jeans, AND my favorite band?!

I stare back at the sidewalk, not knowing how to respond without sounding like an idiot.

My hands are shoved in my tight pockets, and I realize after playing with my pocket lint for all of ten seconds that it’s too silent. I don’t want it to stay that way, awkwardly quiet, so I try desperately to start up conversation. Regardless of how stupid I’ll sound.

“So… that coffee offer is still up.” I smile at him, a smarmy little grin.

Alex simply shakes his head disbelievingly and offers up another of his own small smiles, all tight-lipped and no teeth shown. From what I can tell, he’s pretty awkward socially. He doesn’t like to talk that much. (Maybe he’s one of those people that only open up after you know them really well…? I certainly hope that’s the case, because my attempts at conversation so far have sucked.)

“And my answer remains the same, Jason. You’re a good guy, but… no.” He laughs a bit at my persistence.

I see the blue and white sign that signals we’re almost to Jillian’s and let my shoulders slump. “It wouldn’t have to be a date…” I mumble, dejected.

A thin hand comes up to pat my head.

“At least tell me why you keep turning me down!” I protest. My own hand comes up to tug at my puffed up blue hair, and I huff. Both of us stop on the sidewalk, his hand on his hips and an eyebrow raised at me.

“It’s okay, you can tell me. It’s my hair isn’t it? The tattoos? The clothes? Am I too punk for you?” I’m frowning, wondering why he keeps turning me down. Honestly.

His eyes flit up to where I’m tugging gently at my bangs and he’s laughing softly before I can get too disappointed, because honestly what did I expect?

“No, Jason, it’s not your hair. And I actually think your tattoos are pretty cool.” As if to finalize his point, he slides a single slender finger down my bare shoulder, the bright ink startling against his pale skin. My skin feels like it’s on fire where he touches, and a shudder seeps through me from head to toe.

“Really?” I’m still doubtful. It must be the hair, it usually is. No one wants to be seen with a guy who has dark blue hair, especially when there are little white and light blue bits painstakingly dyed into the mass of it. Especially when It's flopped over and twisted and puffed into what could be a living creature on my head, messily perfect.Most people just glance at it and then look away.

“Then what is it?” I ask hesitantly.

Alex sighs. “It sounds so cliché… even in my mind.” He’s staring at the ground, refusing to meet my questioning gaze. “It really isn’t you, it’s me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

We’re silent for a while after that, me staring up at the fading sign that Jillian himself hung over the market when it first opened and Alex staring interestedly at his own feet.

I suddenly get a brilliant idea.

“You know. It really doesn’t have to be coffee. Or a date. I mean.” I stop and take a shuddering breath, and he’s got this intense look on his face that clues me in on the fact that he’s actually listening to me. “We could just be friends. Y’know?”

To be perfectly honest, I don’t know why I’m so into Alex. He’s just strange, and enigmatic, and gives off this vibe. He seems like he’d be a hell of a lot of fun if he’d just open up a little bit. It’s hard to explain even to myself, so I give up and just wait with baited breath for his answer.

Alex himself looks uncomfortable, standing on the sidewalk shifting from foot to foot. I suddenly feel bad for putting him in that position, with such a heavy question. I don’t even know much about him, and I must seem like a stalker. But if there’s any chance of being around him at all, even the slightest bit, I want to take it while I have the opportunity. I might never get another one.

Suddenly the automatic doors to the store whoosh open, disturbing our silence. Alex looks relieved when a bundle of cherry blonde hair and naked flesh flings at me in a rush. I can’t get a word in before I’m gasping for breath in an affectionate chokehold, Jillian’s arm wrapped tight around my neck while the other decides to ruin my already messy hair with a noogie.

“Jason, you little brat. It’s been a month! I told you to come back more often, motherfucker.” Jillian laughs and lets me go, which I thank every god above for since he’s shirtless and I was pressed directly into a mess of strong manly odor and residue. I wipe the sweat from my cheek and make exaggerated faces of disgust for Alex’s benefit, who by now is simply howling with laughter. Of course, he’s muffling it behind a hand, but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s enjoying himself.

Jillian pulls both of us into the busy store by our hands, chattering about some special on ice cream and cereal, some things that my mother would absolutely love, and I know that I’ll walk out of here without a penny to spare.

I pass a playfully irritated glance to Alex, who seems to be enjoying himself. He just sticks his tongue out at me and pays attention to Jillian.

I decide our conversation can wait until later.

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FUCKING REVIEW. It makes me mad that I’ve got over a hundred hits and not a single review on this story.