The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

*Gwyn’s POV*

Knocking at the door! Shit!

I was suddenly terrified and full of doubts, a thousand derisive words from my past filling my mind. But I made myself stand and go to the door anyway. Whatever happened, I had already been to the bottom. Andy could bring me no lower. At least I hoped so.

I steeled myself and opened the door. There was Andy, holding a massive quantity of long-stemmed, burgundy roses. As soon as he saw me, his eyes shown brightly, and he radiated joy. "Gwyn! It's you! Please, can I come in?" I nodded and took a few steps back so he could come in. Jesus, he was so fucking fine! I resorted to looking at the floor, embarrassed beyond words.

As I went to shut the door, he took a step towards me, showing me the flowers. "I
brought you these, to apologize." He paused, trying to look me in the eye, but I
couldn't stand to meet his gaze for very long. Being confident in myself seemed completely impossible. "Uh, you haven't said anything. Are you angry with me?"

That snapped me out of my funk a little. "No, no! I'm really sorry, Andy… No, I'm
not mad. Well, not extremely mad, anyways. I mean, I'm not happy that you put my shit all over your Twitter, but I'm also, er, flattered. Let's go sit down and we can… talk, ok?"

Andy nodded, and I gestured for him to hand me the assload of roses. He passed them to me, and I realized that, the whole time he had been carrying them around, they must have been pricking the shit out of him, because I got poked just during the transfer. I glanced quickly at his arms, and the insides were bumpy and covered with teeny scabs from repeated thorn intrusion. Crazy fucker!

As I was trying to settle all the roses in my left arm, so I would be able to put them
away with my right, Andy walked up to me, close, and stroked my cheek, letting his hand linger, and then ran it through my hair.

I was dumbfounded, and my chest and stomach burned with mixed emotions. I felt his gaze settle, and I was too scared to look him in the eye. He leaned towards me, and I panicked and turned my head to the side; I felt his lips graze my jaw. "Andy, why don't we talk, ok? I'll just put these away? They are beautiful, thank you."

I looked up at him, and I saw hurt in his eyes as he said, "Of course, that sounds
great. Um, do you want a hand?"

He was still standing right next to me. I could feel the warmth coming off of his body, there was so little space between us. I could smell him. I tried and failed not to look at him.Fucking damn it, now was not the time, I needed to be able to concentrate! His lips were slightly parted, his right hand was still tangled in my hair...

"Andy, uh, just go, go sit over there for a minute." I pointed expectantly.

I definitely needed the time it would take to hang all the roses to dry to try and get my head back on straight. But Andy just kept looking at me, blue eyes scorching. Goddammit-fucking-shit! "Do it now, motherfucker!" We both laughed, and I watched briefly as his fine ass went and sat on my couch, before going and fetching out the string and some scissors.

Notes

another QOTD:
Part A) do you have any body modifications (piercings, tattoos, implants, cuttings done with artistic intention, NOT just self-harm, or other form of body art), or do you plan on any? please note- it is not a competition, more does not equal better. i know all of mine have what some might call spiritual or energetic significance. :O)

Part B) does your job/ will your job 'when you grow up' limit your ability to use body modification as a way to express yourself/manifest the way you feel inside on the outside?

for my part, o won't go into detail, but i have 14 piercings right now. everything needs to be either below the collar, removable, or can be disguised. all tattoos are easily hidden by a very short-sleeved shirt or short skirt. it has to do with my career choice. i have similar issues with my hair style, etc. it's oppressive, but it's also kind of humbling to be forced to walk around, sacrificing the things that would otherwise maybe have helped me feel more like myself, more self-confident, etc. anyways...

credit where credit is due, for the idea of QOTD: to ChanceBVB, please check out her story, it is actually great, much better written than mine!
My Heart of Ebony

on another note: rest in peace, BB King. you are a legend.