I did as I was told, and sat at the bar, eating the sandwich that he had lovingly prepared for me. He had gone back to the lounge, leaving me in here to eat. Admittedly, I didn't want to eat anything at all, but for once I humoured him. I put a hand to my cheek as I ate, I could still feel his hand on my skin. I didn't understand why I was feeling the way that I was, I had never experienced it before. I didn't know what love was, and I certainly didn't know what lust was. I packed my cheeks out with bread, trying to make eating more exciting.

After finishing it, I put my empty plate in the sink, leaving it there as a gift for Laurie. I ventured back to the lounge, sitting in the chair that I had called my mother from. He was lounging on the couch, looking up at the television. I had no idea what show he was watching, but I knew that it was of no interest to me. I still watched children's television, I got no satisfaction from the quiz shows and the news that were marketed to adults. Laurie's eyes were fixated on the screen, and it seemed to me that he hadn't noticed that I was here. His torso was twisted into a comfortable position, his arm dangling down onto the floor. His hand was balled into a fist, and I couldn't help but notice how youthful he looked. He was very attractive, his blonde hair nearly covering his face as he continued to watch the news, making a sniffling noise every now and again. I felt the butterflies that were living in my stomach flutter more and more, as I watched his chest rise and fall. I bit my bottom lip, trying to watch the screen along with him. I wasn't particularly listening to the words – they were talking about the murder of a fashion designer that I didn't bother listening.

"Who's Gianni Ver-sach-ee?" I asked, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. I heard Laurie sigh.

"It's pronounced Ver-sach-eh, William. And he was a fashion designer until he was shot dead yesterday." He said with a sigh, lying on his back, staring up at me from an upside-down position. I rolled my eyes, trying my hardest not to let a smirk break out across my face. "Do not, roll your eyes at Versace." He said with a scowl, I bit my lip to stop myself from annoying him further.

"And what would you know about fashion, Laurie. You wear the same white shirt and pants every day." I joked with a sly smile, watching the lines appear on his forehead. He rolled over onto his stomach, using his fist to balance, staring at me with that cute frown.

"Those shirts cost a lot of money. They're designer, the pants too. I'm meant to be your teacher during the week, aren't I? That's why I dress smart." He said, justifying himself, he sat up. He sat on the edge of the couch, looking at me with his head cocked to the side, probably confused as to why I had no idea who Versace was. I was a very sheltered boy, with very little outlook on the wider world. I wore the same cheap clothes almost every day, as I had little reason to look presentable. "I also happen to like wearing the same clothes. Is that a problem?" He asked, standing up. He slowly walked towards me, standing in front of me. He grabbed my arm, hoisting me up, using his thumb and index finger to keep my chin up. I looked into his warm eyes, noticing the dark circles enveloping them. I scowled at his blank expression, as he lightly chewed in his bottom lip

"I don't think so." I said, as he squeezed my cheeks, I frowned at him, confused as to why he felt the need to touch me. Admittedly, the feeling in my stomach was back, and after growing accustomed to it, I quite liked it. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't understand. He let go of my cheeks, brushing my fringe out of my eyes, using his thumb to keep me looking up into his eyes.

"I'm glad that we don't have a problem. That would make the rest of the month that we'll spend alone together very, very problematic," he began, he used his thumb to trace the outline of my lips, "It's getting late." He said quietly, the feeling in my stomach grew stronger.

"I'm not tired, Laurie. Really I'm not." I protested, trying not to pout at him. He chuckled, before letting out a sigh, ruffling my dark hair. His touch was almost intoxicating, I found my eyes almost rolling into the back of my head. I closed my eyes, my body going numb as he held me there in that room. He knew exactly what he was doing, the way he was making me feel, and probably how wrong it was. I certainly didn't care, as I felt something that I had never felt before.

"Are you sure about that William?" He asked, as a yawn escaped from behind my lips. He let go of me, taking a small step backwards, folding his arms across his bare torso.

I looked down at the ground, nodding, letting out another yawn. He shrugged his shoulders, before retreating back to his couch. I fought every impulse in my being to go and lie next to him, to have him hold me in his arms as I drifted off to sleep. I shuddered, knowing that that thought was completely inappropriate, and also completely impossible. I stood for a moment, rubbing my eyes, before perching on the edge of my armchair. I wasn't about to allow him to win, so I sat back, resting my chin in the palm of my hand, looking up at the television. The images of the Versace man flashed on and off the screen, and I slowly found my eyelids drooping. I fought with them, managing to last a little while longer.

I knew that I had fallen asleep. I didn't remember anything much after that point. It wasn't until I felt my arm slip, that I woke up. Opening my eyes, I felt myself moving, I darted my eyes from side to side, looking up. I saw his blonde hair, and I felt the warmth of his skin against my arms. I heard his soft breathing, it remained that way as he scaled the stairs. The sounds from the television grew quieter and quieter as he climbed higher, grunting as he went. I opened my mouth to speak, but was met with the sounds of silence.

"Time... is it?" I croaked, rubbing my eyes.

"Way past your bedtime." He whispered, his grip on me tightening as he reached the top of the stairs. He stopped for a moment, looking down at me. The warmth from his eyes had returned, and a much sleepier version of the butterfly feeling filled my stomach. My eyes were half-open, but I could still see the love in his face – however blank his expression was. His lips were tightly clamped shut, but his breathing had regulated. He looked down at me momentarily, before continuing on his way to my room. I scowled up at him, wishing that he would've just left me in my armchair.

"And, you were snoring. You were getting louder than the television at one point." He said with a sly smile, the grooves in my forehead grew deeper, he chuckled.

He used his back to open my door, heading towards my bed, gently laying me down. I folded my arms across my body, he copied me, standing one-hundred yards away from me. After switching on a lamp so that we could see each other better, he cocked his head to the side, as if he was about to ask a question, before ultimately deciding against it. I could see the bottom of his tattoo, sticking out from underneath his arms. The other little tattoos looked as though they were fading in the lamplight; I could barely make out what any of them were. We stared at each other for a while, just revelling in the silence that we shared. "I do not snore." I said, looking up at the ceiling, listening to him laugh. It was an attractive laugh, one that I could probably listen to for the rest of my life. Well, he was my stepfather after all, and I would most likely hear him laugh for the rest of his.

"I was joking. You just sat there with your head in your hand, so I moved you. Like I said, it's way past your bedtime." He reiterated, I rolled my eyes, stretching my arms above my head.

He pulled a face, before saying goodnight; he seemed reluctant to leave my room. After he closed the door, I clambered off the bed, peeling my clothes off. I didn't like to sleep with them on, especially with it being well into the Summer months. My mind kept flickering to thoughts of him, especially the way that he looked at me. Chewing on my tongue, I switched off the light, hoping that I would get up on time. I didn't want to disappoint Laurie.
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Day Five: A song that makes you want to dance - Not Nineteen Forever by The Courteeners

A.N
Alrighty my boys, here's a chapter for you. All I'm gonna say is that the next few chapters are gonna be spicy so enjoy.

ALSO can we fucking talk about Childish Gambino's song This Is America?? I'm sorry but it's well and truly iconic and from a film student's perspective the music video- it is a work of pure art!!! The attention to detail in everything and the fact that the background isn't focussed on when Gambabeo is dancing to distract you AHHHHHHH love it. Iconic. Proud of him.

Anyway, lemme know what you think of the chapter I'd love to know <3