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"You don't need to walk me to class," Vic chuckles as I open the door for him.

He leaves the room and I follow him out into the hallway.

"I want to spend time with you." I chirp.

"That's sweet." he smiles.

We begin walking down the hallway which is a little busy due to people heading off to their classes.

Vic reaches for my hand but the second his fingers touch mine, a surge of anxiety goes through me so I snap my hand away.

I look around frantically, to make sure that no one saw Vic try to grab my hand, but then I realize what just happened.

My boyfriend tried to hold my hand and I freaked out.

I take a breath to ease my anxiety and reassure myself that this is okay.

Although, I still can't bring myself to hold Vic's hand.

I decide to wrap my arms around his bicep instead. This way people will think I'm just helping the blind guy out.

I hate myself for that thought. It's so selfish. But it's the best I can do right now.

"You okay?" Vic asks me suddenly.

"Hmm?" I hum confused.

"I can feel how tense you are. Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asks confused.

"Nothing, I'm fine." I assure him.

"Are you sure, babe? You can tell me." Vic frowns.

"I am sure. You've got nothing to worry about."

He just nods seeming unconvinced.

I hate lying to him. I fucking hate it so much. But I can't tell him the truth. He would hate me.

We're silent the rest of the way to Vic's class as tension looms between us. Then when we arrive and it's time to say goodbye, I dodge Vic's kiss and give him an awkward half hug.

"I'll see you later." I tell him.

"Okay." he frowns, seeming confused and frustrated as he walks into his class.

I feel guilty and stupid. Why am I like this?

I begin walking back to my dorm, my head down even more than usual, until I hear my name.

"Hey Kell,"

I look up and see Brandon grinning as he practically skips towards me.

"Oh hey," I smile uncomfortably.

"I'm throwing a party later. You should totally come." he blurts out.

"Uh, I don't know. I have an assignment I need to prepare for." I shrug. It's true, but also going to my ex boyfriend's party is not something that sounds like fun to me.

"Oh please, Kell. There will be alcohol, and I want you to meet my new boyfriend, and you kind of owe me." he rambles.

"You have a new boyfriend?" I ask surprised.

"Yeah. His name is Dennis and he's cute and sweet and he doesn't just fucking abandon me." Brandon says condescendingly with a sickly sweet smile.

I shrink into myself, once again feeling horrible for hurting him.

"Anyway, tonight 8pm, hope you can make it. Ooh and bring that hot roommate of yours." he chirps then walks off.

I sigh defeated and head back to my dorm. I consider getting some schoolwork done but with the way I'm feeling right now, I doubt I'd even be able to concentrate.

I end up just crawling under the covers feeling sorry for myself until I fall asleep.

I wake up to Vic wrapping his arms around me.

"Hey," I mumble, sleepily moving into his arms.

"Hey baby, are you feeling okay?" he asks softly. "You were acting a little weird earlier and now you're sleeping in the middle of the afternoon.

I shrug and bury my face into his shirt.

"Just a bad day." I admit.

"You want to talk about it?" he questions, seeming worried.

"No." I mumble.

He sighs a little and kisses my forehead.

"Okay." he whispers.

I enjoy the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, but the longer I'm in his arms, I begin to curse the fact that I can't enjoy this feeling outside of these walls.

I feel imprisoned by these walls, confined by my own feelings of infatuation and adoration. How can this room be both my sanctuary and my jail cell?

Maybe going to Brandon's party is exactly what I need. I get to be out of this room and blissfully intoxicated.

"Hey, we got invited to a party later. Wanna go?" I ask Vic, blinking my eyes open.

He immediately looks unsure.

"Parties aren't really my thing." Vic says hesitantly.

"Oh, okay." I nod, feeling a little stupid.

"But hey, if it'll cheer you up, I'll tag along." he chirps.

"You don't have to." I mumble.

"I want to." he smiles, then he kisses my cheek.

I look up at him and as he smiles down at me.

"You're so sweet." I mumble.

"I try." he chuckles.

I trace his jaw with my fingertips, then move my hand over his stubbly cheek. Then I kiss him.

I hold his face in my palm, feeling his scratchy five-oclock shadow. I think about all those years ago when I used to kiss Alex and how her face was always so soft and smooth.

I remember the floral smell of her perfume, the cherry taste of her lip gloss, the makeup stains on my t-shirts, her tiny waist and petite hands.

I remember how unhappy I was, how confused and conflicted I was, how nauseous I felt when she touched me and I touched her. I recall the sick, disappointment that sunk to the bottom of my stomach like lead when I undressed and her felt nothing.

When I kiss Vic, it's nothing like that. I feel alive, I feel satisfied, I feel happy. I only wish I could feel that all the time with him.

I fear that eventually my insecurities are going to noticibly affect this relationship and that's the last thing I want.

He pulls away smiling and breathless, and I can't help but to peck his lips one last time.

"You're a good kisser." I mumble.

"So are you." he beams. "I mean, I don't have anything to compare it to, but I really fucking love kissing you."

"Wanna make out?" I grin.

"Hell yeah." he chuckles.

I push my lips back to his and kiss him eagerly. He kisses me with the same eagerness, but it's not long before his hands fall to the back of my thighs, dangerously close to my ass.

Anxiety starts to build in my chest and I worry that I'm going to freak out so I push myself away from Vic.

"We should probably get ready for this party." I suggest, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Oh yeah, sure." Vic says half-heartedly.

He sits up then slides off the bed before going over to his drawers. He opens it and feels around but looks perplexed.

"What should I wear?" he sighs softly to himself.

I get of my bed and walk over to him. I hook my arms around his bicep and peer into the drawer, getting an idea.

"Can I pick your outfit?" I grin hopefully.

"Only if you make me look cute." he chuckles.

I start excitedly looking through his clothes.

"Is it possible for you to not look cute?" I tease nudging him gently.

"You sure you're not the blind one?" he snorts.

I stop what I'm doing and turn to him, taking his cheeks in my palms.

"Oh my gosh, babe, you are gorgeous. Trust me." I say sternly then I kiss him before I go back to what I was doing.

But as I'm looking through his clothes, another question arises in my mind.

"You went blind when you were sixteen, right?" I ask, and Vic responds with a clarifying hum. "So you haven't seen yourself since you were sixteen?"

"Nope." Vic chirps.

"Do you know what you look like?" I question confused.

"Sort of." he shrugs. "I have a vague idea. I've definitely changed a lot since I was sixteen. I grew my hair out, I started working out, I dress a little differently." he explains. "But I'm sure what I picture myself as is different than what I actually look like."

"You better be picturing yourself as a stud, because you're a fucking smoke show." I say matter-of-factly and Vic chuckles, his cheeks tinting pink.

He wraps his arms around my waist, just hugging me.

"I'm glad you think so." he murmurs. "I'm sorry I can't tell you that you look nice, or that your smile is pretty or whatever."

"Don't be sorry, babe. You tell me that I'm sweet, that I have a beautiful laugh, that I'm interesting. Those kind of compliments are better than the other ones in my opinion." I assure him, as I pick out a pair of dark ripped skinny jeans for him and place them on his bed.

He smiles and nods.

"But there are physical traits that I find really attractive." Vic chirps.

"Like what?" I ask interested.

"Height. I like that we're about the same height. I don't have to lean up of bend down to kiss you and we could totally fit into each other's clothes which is cute. I'm not a fan of beards or stubble. The thought of the scratchy feeling is off-putting," he murmurs, kissing my hairless cheek. "I like that your hair is longer because it's fun to play with. And I like your body type. I don't know why, I just find it really attractive."

His words comfort me in a way I didn't know I needed.

I pick out a nice denim jacket for Vic then start looking for something to go under it.

"I knew I was attracted to you the second I saw you. When did you know you were attracted to me?" I ask curiously.

"When you went for that walk and you couldn't get the door open." Vic chirps.

"Wait, really? I was a complete mess." I say confused and embarrassed.

"I leaned down to comfort you and you just threw yourself into my arms. And it just felt right, you know? Like you belonged there. And you were so vulnerable with me. I don't know, I just thought you were really cute." he explains almost coyly.

I'm left in awe at his words. He's so sweet. Why in the world is he dating me?

I don't know what to say so I just kiss his cheek softly and focus back on what I was doing.

I pull out a black tank and my jaw drops when I realize it has Queen's logo on it. 

"Oh my god, I'm in love with this Queen shirt." I gasp, looking over it in awe.

"You should wear it." Vic grins.

"Wait, really?" I beam at him.

"Yeah, it'll probably look better on you than it does on me." he chuckles.

I pull my shirt over my head and toss it on my bed before putting Vic's tank on. It smells like him, and somehow feels like him. I'm definitely keeping this, whether he likes it or not.

I then go back to fishing through Vic's clothes. I find a nice faded red button up shirt with little white palm trees on them and place it on the pile I've made, completing Vic's outfit for the night.

"Okay, I'm all done. Shirt is on top, then jacket, then jeans." I chirp, tapping the pile so he knows where his clothes are.

I get out of his way and sit on my bed watching him as he starts getting changed.

He pulls his shirt off and I admire his beautiful back and biceps as he folds it up. Then he shuffles out of his jeans and I just gawk at my sexy boyfriend in his grey boxer-briefs. I notice him smirk, making me realize he can probably feel me staring.

I quickly look away and focus my attention on the carpet as I try to catch my breath. I'm expecting a flood of nausea but it doesn't come.

I think back to a couple of weeks ago when I couldn't even look at him shirtless without feeling sick. Maybe this is progress, maybe I'm just really caught up in him. Whatever it is, I'm not complaining. I kind of like not hating myself.

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