Once Upon a Time [private]

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

February was a chilly month, bearing the last of what winter is able to throw at the world before the season melts into spring. A miserable 25° clung to the air, but citizens still frequented the Lorsette streets with the comfort of absent wind chill. A young teen, Maxi, couldn't bear the sheer cold of the day. Short stature, slim body and delicate sun-deprived flesh. The cold preyed upon him, breaching the thick and petite flannel that hugged him to no avail. Fortunately his hat, gloves, ear-muffs and scarf were able to perform their job efficiently. Quickly, the young adult sought refuge in the city library with a purpose in mind.

The safe haven of knowledge welcomed him with open arms, which embraced him lovingly with a warmth which burned his cheeks brighter than they already were. Hat off, and gloves tucked into it. Scarf wrapped around it, and earmuffs pinching it altogether. Sweet organization. Maxi shrugged off his flannel delicately, placing his winter armor into the hood and hung it up on the third last open slot of the coatrack. The soft blue sweater he wore contradicted his detest for the frosty season, but complimented the equally colored pants.

Looking towards the front desk, one of the librarians had taken notice of me and he looked away quickly. This action immediately didn't sit well with him, and so he returned his attention to them briefly to give them a smile of acknowledgement. "I don't want to be rude... it's just weird seeing someone so often," he thought to himself anxiously. The librarian undoubtedly recognized his face from the countless times he has visited this library and spent hours upon hours seeking the enlightenment, comfort or feelings that the library's vast collection provided. Not a single book was banned from it's roster, liberally accepting all types of literature into it's infinitive rows of shelves. It's what allured the young blue-haired boy into making this rich domain a second home.

A tug on Maxi's heart urged him forward eagerly, a sudden instinct sinking into his brain. For some reason, a sudden sensation throbbed deep within him as of late. The new month introduced to him a new craving for something that'd play a serenade on his heart. There was a indescribable urgency in his wish to touch up on the romantics, and in order to do that he needed an idea of how to produce a heartfelt plot. The young writer's famished heart beckoned him to the romance section, perusing the linear lines of text-etched spines. The selection was so overwhelmingly extensive that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to settle with merely one if he were to take his time. "I might as well just pick a random one... but these are usually so cringy... why am I taking such an interest in this mushy crap?" he wondered disconcertedly. It unsettled him that he was straying out of his comfort zone, consisting of drama and tragedy, for a sensitive genre that has no personal experience or understanding of. It was a miracle that he had attracted praise for the romantic subplot in his own published book.

Maxi's hovering finger had descended, picking a book at random. Dramatically, he had gulped. His finger tipped the book over, and captured it in his palm. Flipping it over, the story bore a beautiful illustration of two hands clasped together in a tight-knit form he could already interpret as a theme of union. The title read, Strings Attached, and a twist of the wrist offered him a safe synopsis of the story. With every word he soaked in, his heart seemed to leap at every mental iteration of them like a drumbeat. A story about two men who found themselves in a one night stand, and despite the awkward circumstances, can't seem to pull apart; however, one of them is supposed to be heterosexual.

"Dr-... drama... my heart aches at just the idea of this suspense... then the romance on top of all of this...!" The blue-haired writer's face heated up so much that he thought his face were melting, and he momentarily caressed his forehead to ensure it were still there. The story foreshadowed a dramatic ride, one of his two favorite genres to both read and write. Yet, aside from the drama, the romantic aspect interested him far more than it should. It felt as if his heart wanted to reach out and touch the book on it's own.

Suddenly, he detected another presence entering the aisle. Maxi froze up nervously, afraid that they may have been peeking into his colorful mind. To his dismay, they continued his way and showed no sign of halting, and he jerked away from them suddenly when they had attempted to move past him. "S-... so sorry..." he stammered beneath his breath, and out of embarrassment he had hurried out from the depths of the dusty maze. He wondered if they had noticed how mesmerized he had been by the book in his hand. The awkward imagery of himself in his head made him want to curl up under a table, anxiety trying to commence an assault on his relatively good mood.

A few deep breaths out in the empty openness, and he had continued back towards the entrance only to take a left turn and enter the coffee shop. Inside, there were only a couple patrons whom spaced themselves away from each other and sat by their lonesome. Their eyes were deeply engaged to their own stories, and so would Maxi himself. Tension built up in the male's chest as he sauntered up to the front counter, he had already been digging in his pocket for his wallet when the clerk smiled and confirmed a peppermint latte for him. A sigh fled his pursed lips, relief chilling the fiery tenseness down like ice on a black eye. Perks of being a recognizable regular.

The exchange of funds for delicacy was made, and before anything else, the author had made sure to add additional whole milk to the latte. Then, he had sat down cross-legged at a table in the corner of the cafe, next to a massive one-way glass window that gave him a good perspective of the outside world. "Much more beautiful when you're inside and not outside in the cold..." he thought to himself idly, before turning his attention down to the book laid out before him. Every part of him demanded he flip open the cover and begin his journey into another universe, and just as he had done so, he was startled by a sharp pain in his chest that nearly threw him forward. For a moment he had thought a panic attack ailed him in that instant, only to find no such thing would happen out of the blue.

A searing seismic wave ached throughout his body. It was unlike anything he had experienced before, and so his eyes looked around warily as if expecting to find some sort of culprit wishing pain on all within their reach only to find that he was alone in that department. The only detail of interest was a newcomer who just entered the cafe, and seemed to be awkwardly paused in place. For fear of being caught sticking his eyes where they shouldn't be, he sheepishly looked down at the book and closed his eyes. "Deep breaths," he coaxed himself. The methods his therapist insisted on weren't slowing his heartbeat at all. At this rate, he feared he was soon due for a heart attack. It felt as though his cheeks were still awfully flushed, and adopting and unhealthily high temperature. Worse of all, his anxiety found this vulnerability to be all too tempting to crave in and begin its conquest. "Dammit... what's wrong with me... maybe I should call my mom."

[Dexter Adams]

972 WORDS

@characternamehere

BY MINNIE OF GS

YOU KEEP A LOT TO YOURSELF,

In a slow crawl the cold day passed by, gradually ticking closer to noon. As time drifted pass, the hour dawned nearer to when Dexter's uncle would arrive for the usual business conversation. Thus, without much thought towards the cold temperature outside, the introvert dawned his usual black coat and slipped out the door. A quick farewell was given to his grandparents, who had insisted against their grandson venturing outside of the house for the day, but the complaint came to deaf ears. Being familiarized with the common conversation actions, the redhead was already aware he would get fetched and driven to emotional distress should he not escape while given the chance. A stern hatred had grown over his uncle attempting to push him towards company business with knowledge that the young man had yet to complete his grieving.

Grief over the death of his parents still fogged his vision, making the world appear a touch darker. Upon leaving the house, frigid winter air embraced him which caused a bout of shivering. Immediately, his bare hands were shoved into the warm depths of his pockets. There was not a second thought as Dexter marched forward to temporarily vacate his home to avoid any outbursts. A decent amount of time was spent walking, his yellow eyes noticing the nasty looks that people who recognized him for his formerly felonious behavior. Those expressions never bothered the redhead anymore since years had been spent adjusting, but the occasion countenance of pity always remained a reminder to his loss. The introvert's gaze remained locked onto the bland, grey sidewalk to avoid witnessing those flashes of pity that crossed the faces of other individuals.

For a few moments, Dexter was clueless for the location as he walked along. Although, there was some mysterious force pulling him towards thoughts of the library; almost like an invisible thread was being tugged towards that destination. Gradually, he found himself unconsciously winding up in front of the library's stairway to the familiar glass doors. With a shrug, Dexter trudged up the steps and through the friendly wooden and glass doors. Upon entry, the warm library air provided an amiable embrace of welcoming. There was swiftness taken in unzipping the coat and shrugging it off his shoulders to hang it onto the coat rack. The introvert's pale hand reached into the jacket's pocket in order to fetch his phone and transfer it to the pocket of his red sweater. Forgetting his phone was a recipe for disaster since missing a single 'are you alright?' text message from his grandparents would cause an outright manhunt.

A glance was taken towards the librarian who offered a plastic smile, probably caused by forced employee to customer benevolence. Quickly, Dexter merely walked away and entered the endless maze of shelved books all standing dignified in their assigned section. There was always the automatic pass through the horror section to scope out possible reads for future literary endeavors, although, the introvert had a book title in mind. His grandparents had constantly harassed him with the recommendation with presumptions towards him liking it despite Dexter's own horror preference. A book titled Beneath the Thread which his grandparents had peculiarly come to adore. Thus, the redhead was forced to search through the shelves before crossing the dramas and finding the title written across the book's spine.

The book was fluently plucked from the shelf, allowing Dexter to analyze it after pushing up the yellow and black glasses that framed his eyes. Only a moment was taken towards debating to read this or his favorite genre, but ultimately the drama reigned victorious impart from mild interest and the requirement to banish the constant stress of his grandparents insistent recommending. A soft sigh escaped the redhead's lips as he retreated from the corridors of literature with the single book tucked safely beneath his arm. He weaved his way through the maze, reaching his new destination of the cafe kept inside the library walls. Although, a strange vibe seemed to transcend over him with each step taken closer to the often quiet sanction the cafe.

Several times his heart seemed to beat faster, almost as though aware of a fact unbeknownst to his mind. A pause was taken, Dexter gazing at himself before taking the back of his hand gently towards his forehead. There was concerned over possibly growing sick, but there appeared to be nothing wrong. A few moments were taken to ponder what possibly caused his heart to flutter in excitement. After soothing himself, Dexter continued forward where he noticed the blue-haired man in the corner instantly. Upon noticing him, his heart rate escalated immensely and his thoughts immediately muddled; it was enough to make the redhead wonder if he was having a heart attack or perhaps some extreme fainting spell. After a few deep breaths, the introvert narrowly managed to calm himself and focus on walking towards the front counter to purchase a hot chocolate which was something he adored.

Afterwards, his gaze trailed back towards the boy with curiosity lighting in his eyes. Unlike with a majority of people, the introvert found himself craving the concept of a conversation with the stranger. There was an essence about him that made the young man alluring. The redhead admittedly found him attractive, although, he would be hesitant to state it vocally. For a few moments, Dexter gathered up some courage before approaching the stranger.

"Uh... hey, can I sit with you?," Dexter asked.

There was prayer that the mysterious man would agree to the concept. After the peculiar heart flutter that occurred upon seeing him, the introvert desired to investigate more and discover perhaps why this man radiated these vibes. Especially since, it was a rare occasion for Dexter to crave a conversation with somebody who was a complete stranger.

- - because it's difficult to find people who understand.

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

    Lightheadedness began to pulsate his weak mind, setting an off-putting atmosphere for him. It was beginning to scare him, and for that reason he had drawn out his phone from his pocket and began to deftly glide his thumb across the touch-screen so fluidly you'd think he had a phone in the womb. Just as his finger had hovered over the contact, typically read as "Mom", the corner of his eye had detected a beautiful shade of red growing larger. It was closing distance on him, and he had looked up from his phone to scrutinize the male who stood over his table. The second his eyes had rested upon him, within such close proximity of him, his hand had jerkily reacted to the sharpest thump of his heart and shielded it. Afterwards, his pulse had slowly began to degrade to normal levels. The aching that terrorized him was no longer.
    Maxi was startled by a torrent of anxiety, stirred by the acknowledgement of his behavior in front of the stranger. Meekly, he perked up and held his hands close to his chest as if they were about to drive a spear into his core. "S-Sorry!" he apologized guiltily. "I just... had a chest pain is all, uh... of course! Feel free, I mean, if you're still in-terested." Maxi's hand gestured to the seat across from him, permitting him to take the seat while his other hand had deposited his device back into his pocket. The male didn't want to show disrespect by having his phone out during an engagement of interaction.
    A nervous smile dressed Maxi's face, hoping to provide a greater comfort. Maxi reached out and delicately wrapped in thin fingers around his latte, bringing it to his lips and sipping with care for it's scolding temperature. The beverage heated his innards, cozying up to his nerves and tucking them into ease. A delightfully warm sigh of relief ejected from his soft lips, glossed in a protective oil. 
    Silence ensued, and it was breaking away the ground beneath and offering foreboding edge. "I need to say something... What do I say?" Maxi's mind panically sifted through a plethora of ideas, deducting them two by two. However, he had prematurely made his decision. "So... er... what's your name— i-if you don't mind me asking, I mean..." he began nervously, hoping to be the conversation starter between them. It was best to extinguish the potentiality of awkwardness before it actually occurred. Unfortunately, he could already feel the effects of his terribly botched starter.
    Not soon afterwards had it occurred to him that it was always more polite to introduce yourself rather than demand a name first. This way, it would be ascertained a proper, formal and trustworthy exchange. Quickly, he had corrected himself. "My... er, excuse my stuttering, just a bit anxious. My name's Maxi," he introduced, before cursing himself mentally for his terrible social skills. It was blatantly obvious what poor ability he had to communicate, since he even had maximal difficulty retaining eye contact. As if the other man's cup was a magnet, his bright blue orbs were inclined to feast upon it for themselves.
    Compared to other scenarios in which he had to make contact with another living being, this one showed him much more tediousness. The young author identified a genuine wishfulness within that begged for him to painfully invest effort into the stranger. What provoked such a peculiar desire was unbeknownst to him, yet he allowed himself to submit to it's demanding spell. Therefore, his poor performance frustrated him, because it was threatening this peculiar newborn aspiration.
    "Maybe it's because he's... not half-bad looking... attractive even..." he unconsciously thought, before realization had hit him in the head. Squeezing his legs together physically, humiliation had wrenched his insides. "Where did that come from?! I'm such a creep... I never think that way. Maybe I really am getting sick. Oh, I hope I don't get this guy sick..." he began to let his anxiety get a firm grip of him, causing his one leg beneath the table to restlessly bounce up and down in rapid succession. Now would be a wonderful time to flee home and hide away in shame, but this phantom instinct was intent on keeping him here. 
    

[Dexter Adams]

751 WORDS

@characternamehere

BY MINNIE OF GS

YOU KEEP A LOT TO YOURSELF,

Gazing upon this handsome blue-haired was causing Dexter's heart to flutter more. When the stranger glanced towards him, the redhead found himself noticing the beauty of his face. Gaining the chance to stare caused the introvert's heart to skip a beat, as though jovial over the concept of resting his eyes on this man. The sudden heart irregularity made Dexter suck in a sharp breath, holding it for a few moments before slowly releasing it. Palpitations in the redhead's heart rate began increasing as he bashfully glance away and slow his breathing in order to sooth the sudden agitation. These peculiarities had never occurred in the bespectacled male which generated concern over his health status. The safety of his bedroom perhaps would have been the better choice of scenery given these strange symptoms.

Accompanying the thought of his bedroom bore the reminder of his sudden social craving towards this attractive stranger. Should the decision had arrived to remain hidden in those solitary walls of his room, this opportunity would have been lost. The desire for socialization was a rarity and Dexter craved the concept immensely with the stranger. When the guilty apology alongside the mentioning of chest pain was spoken, the introvert's heart ached over the idea. Dexter's yellow eyes softened as he began despising the notion of the stranger being in pain which brought forth a peculiar desire to assist in any manner he could. On another note, the shy mannerisms and awkward social conduct was oddly charming. Silently, the redhead strolled over to the gestured seat and stationed himself, placing the book flat on the table and the ceramic mug filled with hot chocolate to his right. A momentary pause settled until finally Dexter realized that inquiring about this unknown man's health would be an act of benevolence; it also transformed into a sudden requirement.

"Uhh, you are okay though, right? Like... do you need a doctor?" Dexter questioned quietly, concern marking his tone.

The countenance of the redhead's face remained neutral, hints of anxiousness touching his facial features. There was a slight twitching to his lips, almost as though he desired to create a grin, but found himself unable. Eye contact was averted as Dexter debated how to interact with the attractive man who sparked the social yearning. Although, the concept of speaking brought a dryness to his mouth from the nervous emotions. In a slow motion, the introvert's hand wrapped around the smooth ceramic handle of his stark white mug. The warmth of the liquid contained inside was noticed when the cup was gently lifted, his opposing hand assisting by pressing against the side adjacent to the handle. The radiating heat acted as a soothing remedy to the slightest hints of cold that remained in his pale hands. A tiny sip was taken from the cup, the sweet taste of hot chocolate flowing over his tongue and increased his addiction to the substance.

There was a silence between himself and the stranger, the occasion soft voiced conversation and quiet page turns of fellow cafe occupants filling the void. It caused the redhead to mentally chastise himself for failing in the department of social interaction. Learning to maintain a steady conversation under the pressure of nerves was another topic he should have analyzed from his extrovert parents. The timid request for names was brought to the table by his bashful companion who hastily added his own which was Maxi. A slight soothing developed in the redhead when the blue-haired man informed him of the nervousness he felt; the comfort of not being trapped in these emotions alone. Slowly, Dexter's mug met the table as his yellow eyes flitted back towards his company.

"Dexter," he stated simply. A quiet, nervous laugh escaped the redhead's lips. "Don't worry... I'm nervous too. I... uhh... don't socialize much..."

The admittance towards his introverted ways caused a mild embarrassment to settle in Dexter. On several occasions the redhead got informed that his withdrawn social behaviors were a flaw despite the extensive amount of time that could be given towards personal thoughts and in depth study of his character. Once again, Dexter found his eyes trailing away from the gorgeous man occupying the adjacent side of the table, instead resting on the literary piece he had chosen. This instance was causing the former criminal to pray for something to grant him social ability. While he remained station in his seat, his heart continued fluttering and the endless abyss of nervous emotions plagued his mind.

- - because it's difficult to find people who understand.

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

    

For a stranger to express the courtesy of caring for another’s well-being was phenomenal. The redhead could have easily disregarded his apology and his statement altogether yet had the consideration to confirm his stable health. "A-Ah! No, no... I'm alright, I assure you," he insisted. Maxi’s mind began picking out traits in this man, whose mere presence seemed to be the music fueling his tap-dancing heart, and so far everything about the male; even his very existence stoked the flame beneath the beat. It was so incredibly biased, but for what— he did not know. It was almost instinctual. The breaths he took were shaky; he couldn't decide whether this was a symptom of this sudden condition that's taken grasp of his body or whether it was the pestilence that tormented even the most hidden depths of his nerves. Nothing was safe from it, and it seemed as though this specific ailment had rendered him fully vulnerable... and bore the fruits of feelings he had failed to fathom in his life.

For a moment, Maxi feared that the male had declined to return his name. It was a temporary suppressant of the building tension to finally be returned "Dexter", a completion of the trade. It was name that he would certainly learn quickly because of the memorably extraordinary circumstances in which it enlightened him. A quiet nod of acknowledgement approved of him, and his dainty keyboard-worn fingers wrapped around his plastic cup again and treated his lips to another kiss of warm sweetness. "It's er... a pleasure to meet you Dexter!" he responded, leaving mere silence after that. The empty air between them was already choking him, even if it had only been about fifteen seconds. "I wonder what he's thinking of me right now... I hope I didn't leave a negative impression already," he worried mentally. At least he could find equal ground with them in the spoken idea that they're also bad at social interaction... surely not as terrible as him though.

Quickly, his bright orbs skimmed the male and everything around him; excluding his head, being unable to give eye contact without triggering his anxiety further. "Something to talk about, something to talk about... come on! Why can't I be good at these things? It almost feels like my life depends on this..." The boy's heart was fluttering, giving him a floaty feeling. The sensation was unpleasant because to him it suggested possibility of omen; as did all of the mystery or unknown in his life. Little did he know, that the true meaning behind this feeling was that he longed to make further contact with the stranger and find assurance that he can make something significant of it.

"...! That's...!" Bewildered eyes feasted with interest upon Dexter's own book he had picked out. The color, the illustration, the spine itself with the title "Beneath the Thread" elegantly calligraphed across it. The author's entitled signature rested at the bottom of the cover, and it was one most familiar to him yet likely his least favored writer. Maxi Bellclaire, it read. To find his one published and successful piece in the possession of someone he didn't know somehow inspired the fears within him. "He'll... certainly be terribly disappointed with my work... it's an amateur's diary," he pessimistically thought, brows furrowed with concern. A sudden command from his subconscious told him to bolt; to run out and hide himself away. Another command, commissioned from the deepest depths of his heart- a depth he could never in his life reach on his own- suppressed this command aggressively. Instead, it provided an idea for a way to relate.

A cleanly cut and filed nail flicked a weak index finger towards the tome, and he followed up shortly after. "P-Pardon my nosiness but... I can't help but take notice of the book you have there. Are you a fan of drama?" Maxi gulped, timidly fixing his eyes on the story in question. The young writer's mind was insisting that he had made a crucial mistake bringing up a subject on his own work; that it was terribly egotistic to even use it as a catalyst for possible conversation. Meanwhile his heart, the winning contender in this war for decisiveness, attempted to console him into believing it was the right way to go... for the benefit of it's own agenda, of course.

Lowering his head down, cheeks now a soft pink, he twiddled his thumbs and continued. "So-sorry for the odd question... I happen to love drama myself. I appeal to the tragedies. N-Not that I'm saying they're a good thing! I mean—" Shaking his head, he drew a breath and released a sigh in a poor attempt to reduce his slight panic. "I'm.. not good with words. I enjoy writing more than I do communicating verbally," he confessed shamefully.


    

[Dexter Adams]

854 WORDS

@characternamehere

BY MINNIE OF GS

YOU KEEP A LOT TO YOURSELF,

The bashful attitude that Maxi was displaying was causing Dexter's heart beat to skyrocket. Every single shy action taken by the adorable blue-haired man seemed divinely attractive, mesmerizing even. There was an anxious feeling as the redhead awaited for Maxi's answer towards the health-based inquiry which was peculiar given his lack of favoring towards social interaction. When the answer was given, holding that essence of shyness it caused a strange conflict of both sending his heart into palpitation, but easing his worried mind. It was difficult to comprehend the odd mixture of emotions, some even going lengths to contradict others. There was a desire for conversation, but the underlying yearning to remain silent to avoid making a fool of himself. Instead of openly stating the positively towards Maxi's health condition being stable, the redhead offered a friendly smile.

There was awkwardness possessed in the small grin, almost as though there was uncertainty in preforming the action. A mental debate was held over the concept of this being the correct action to take which made Dexter feel self-conscious. Was his smile perhaps possessing a peculiar edge? It felt like years since the last time the corners of his lips drew up into a grin and the redhead was concerned that somehow he was giving a meager performance. Instead of continuing the awkward smiling, the bespectacled introvert glanced away bashful. Those self-conscious emotions began consuming more shreds of confidence, insisting that he likely only made the situation horrible. The mere mentioning of it being a pleasure to meet him made Dexter's cheeks tint a slight pink in colour. The notion of Maxi being content with meeting him was incredible and caused his heart to flutter more.

"It's... uh... a pleasure to meet you too," Dexter responded awkwardly.

Immediately afterwards, the redheaded introvert found himself averting eye contact with concerns of becoming flustered or Maxi noticing and commenting on the blush that painted his cheeks. There were vivid scenes about disturbing his company when the redness of his cheeks were noticed; what if he scared him away? The idea made Dexter's heart skip a beat in terror at the thought and further the constant palpitations over the concept of the blue-haired beauty having negative thoughts about him. Eventually, those negative thoughts began absorbing the redhead's attention as he grew more concerned over being disliked by this particular individual. It was peculiar behavior for Dexter considering the opinions of others never truly bothered him and merely be forgotten. There was a linger wonder of what this man was emitting that caused these perplexing emotions to spark suddenly.

Being raveled in his own thoughts caused him to narrowly miss what Maxi's inquired about the reading material that accompanied the redhead. For a moment, Dexter's yellow eyes flitted towards the blue-haired man's face before bashfully locking onto the book sitting in front of him. His gaze trailed over the cover, mentally reading the title and the author's name that was etched on the book. Viewing the title again caused the redhead's eyes to widen since the man sitting across from him shared the authors first name. It caused Dexter to raise an eyebrow in wonder of whether or not they were connected, but felt too anxious to comment on the topic. Should they be the same person, the redhead did not desire to give the impression of a hardcore fan and lacked any plans to introduce this man to his grandparents should that be the case; or at least not for a while. His grandparents loved the story and based on their constant appraisal of the author, Dexter could already imagine how horribly that would end; they would be probable to scare the handsome man away.

As Maxi began anxiously explaining his enjoyment to drama, Dexter found it endearing and adorable. The immense shyness that his company possessed was charming and causing his heart to increase its fluttering. The desire to continue the conversation was skyrocketing, but being heavily introverted made the redhead concerned that he would not have the adequate amount of social prowess.

"It's fine... It's actually really creative. In fact, I find it a likable quality," Dexter responded quietly. "Besides, it's kind of cute in a way."

The redness of his cheeks immediately began to occupy the bridge of his nose at his accidental compliment. A moment of being trapped in those emotions of affection had caused a horrible slip-up. The redhead began staring into the light coloured liquid that occupied his cup, remaining silent. The quiet lingered, the bespectacled man knowing that the conversation had to be initiated again in hopes the comment would be forgotten in speech.

"Sorry... that was uncalled for," he murmured. "Anyways, not usual... I prefer horror myself, but my grandparents insisted I read it. I haven't really gotten into it myself though..."

The redhead was praying that the attempt to provide an answer towards the book related question would salvage the conversation, although, he feared he ruined it. Making eye contact was impossible as Dexter's eyes remained locked onto his own cup with wishes that it could provide him social advice.

- - because it's difficult to find people who understand.

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

    Maxi never saw himself receiving compliments. Usually, he dismissed compliments with a smiling guise of denial. Such small, courteous comments were a thing he didn't quite understand nor could ever take into consideration when thinking about himself, yet he still appreciated them nonetheless. It was made so suddenly that for a moment, the blue-haired male had merely smiled looked away, scratching his cheek. "A-Ahh... that's kind of you to say..." he said, only to fully access what had been said a moment after his response. All at once, feet to head, a stiff ripple of tension solidified his body to stone. "Wait a moment... what did he say?! Did he really...?!" This redheaded guy certainly did. Maxi could tell by the way the other's face had glowed beet red with astonishment over his own actions. Clearly it was meant to be unheard and unsaid, yet the writer couldn't repress his own flush-red indicator of his acknowledgement for their mistake.

    The apology that he mumbled out embarrassedly was incredibly pitiful, and it made Maxi want to stand up and insist it was completely fine in a sternly encouraging manner but he hadn't the gull nor the nerve or the indecency to be so forward. Instead he had shook his head to emphasize his excusal for their comment, cheeks toying with his blood so aggressively that he thought he'd pass out. The lightheadedness was cracking it's greatest shot at sinking him into the protective darkness. "I-I-.. it's fine...!" he tried to exclaim beneath the lightest breath he could, only for it to be converted into a squeak of which his paranoia easily caught and proceeded to mount upon and dig another flag in the name of shame. "He's pitiful... but I'm terribly pathetic... I want to hide so badly but his being compels me to remain; just the thought of leaving drives me mad with fear and I don't understand why!"

    A crooked, nearly broken smile of pure timidity etched his lips in such a stiffly uncomfortable way, he'd thought he'd get a mouth cramp at this rate. Not only was his leg bouncing now, but his finger was soundlessly drumming the side of the latte poised in his grasp. "H-Horror... you say?" he hesitated, still recovering from the earlier event. The author was trying to move on, yet it was so difficult to do so. A compliment seemed to mean far much more to him coming from Dexter than it had most others in the past. It gave him a mysteriously good feelings. "I'm... not that much of a fan of horror. I'd prefer the suspense part of that genre more," he commented.

    Maxi, using his free hand, scratched the back of his head nervously while dragging out another sip of his latte. Afterwards, he briefly jut out a finger in gesture to the book. "I do hope you enjoy that title though. It's not the best story, personally...I question what even earned it that little medal print on it," he bluntly stated with a confidence he hadn't expressed before, showing a firm stance in that regard. As your average writer in personality, he frowned upon his own work; however, above and beyond that he detested his own creations while admiring the works of others with both consideration and envy. Self-esteem was nonexistent to him, and instead he always saw it as egotism and self-conceitedness.

    Soon after, guilt beached onto him and he shifted his eyes out the window. "N-Not that I'm in any place to criticize any work of literature anyway... I merely... disagree with the attention it receives I guess. I'm not a critical person." Maxi's gut wrenched fearfully. "I'm an idiot... I need to choose my words more wisely... now I looked like an asshole... and it's my own book too." Not a breeze left his nostrils while he thought. A deep breath purged his lungs of the pressure, followed by more drags to return regulation to this function. "S-So... assuming you like to read... what's your favorite book?" The awkwardness of their exchange was digging into him. The young writer had no ideas in mind for what to socialize about nor how to dig a deeper understanding or bond with Dexter, who he believed had some desire of such in return if he had approached him so suddenly.





    

[Dexter Adams]

836 WORDS

@characternamehere

BY MINNIE OF GS

YOU KEEP A LOT TO YOURSELF,

After the accidentally and mild admittance of attraction by referring to the actions Maxi accomplished as cute was causing Dexter to feel incredibly nervous. Within his chest, his heart pounded, threatening to escape his rib cage or rupture from the anxious influence the blue-haired man brought. His cheeks hoarded blood, painting his face a deep red to symbolize his embarrassment. There was an immense heat accompanying the heart fluttering, a warmth that caused the redhead to believe his face a set ablaze in a fiery glory. His yellow eyes remained locked on the swirling hot chocolate, watching the steam rise from the ceramic piece. Constantly, his mind insisted that he had successfully messed up the entire interaction. Self-conscious thoughts absorbed him, insisting that the acquaintance was bound to be disgusted and leave. The very notion of Maxi leaving caused Dexter's heart to ache. This mysterious man in all his divine beauty and bashfulness made the craving for conversing intense, but only with him

Anybody else lacked the release of the strange vibes; those invisible strings that seemed to pull the introverted redhead towards Maxi. The comprehension of this social desire and swirling emotions seemed unattainable. Breathing was slowed in desperation to sooth his flustered emotions, but that seemed impossible when Maxi stated it was kind of him. Everything Dexter was feeling seemed the spike in an instant. A deeper red shaded his face, the heat intensified, his heart skyrocketed in rage, and the anxious emotions went wild over the concept of Maxi liking the compliment. There was mild hope sparking from the concept, although, the redhead did not have the courage to spare a glance at his companion. With his face still flushed, he opted to continue staring into the depths of his hot chocolate.

A small sip was taken from the cup with caution taken towards keeping his face hidden; he remained unprepared for gazing upon Maxi's beautiful face. The warm, sweet liquid enveloped his tongue and trailed down the back of his throat, soothing those nervous emotions to a small degree. He continued drinking, tilting his head to unintentionally witness the blush on the blue-haired man's face shortly accompanied by the bashful response. That was when the tickle entered his throat as Dexter began choking on his hot chocolate. The mug was slammed back on the table while the redhead took a moment to cough, the condition gradually improving.

"Sorry... went down... the wrong hole," Dexter narrowly choked out.

After a few minutes of coughing, the problem was resolved and once again he found his eyes averted. Choking on hot chocolate was rather unimpressive, causing Dexter to become terrified over any negative thoughts that Maxi could possibly possess. Instead of staring at his hot chocolate, his yellow eyes moved towards the book he had picked out. When the blue-haired man mentioned his dislike of horror, the bespectacled man merely nodded in response as his mind became occupied by thoughts of how pathetic he appeared when he had been choking. Although, his curiosity shortly returned when the man began to critique the book in a rather harsh manner only to insist against it by stating it to not be his place. A soft smile curved Dexter's lips as he offered a shrug.

"Whatever, everybody has an opinion. What is medal earning in some eyes may not be in others. Besides, yours is better than the squealing my grandparents give... They are practically obsessed with this book," Dexter sighed gently. "Honestly, I wouldn't doubt if they desired me to read it all because of the gay themes in it, almost like some sort of 'hey, we accept you' kind of deal. Anyways, why don't you think it deserves it?"

There was the slightest tint of pink painted across his cheeks at the indirect admittance towards his sexuality and the amount he spoke; the redhead was usually not a talker. Years ago his mother had accidentally informed numerous people in a blunt manner at a party when she insisted towards him dancing with a girl and perhaps dating. Ultimately, it ended with Dexter refusing and his intoxicated mother remembering and blurting it out in a loud voice. When shyly inquired about his favorite book, the redhead's blush deepened.

"Uhh... I don't necessarily have a favorite. Sure, I read a lot, but I find it difficult to pick one. The ones I really enjoy are those that bring something new, not those cliche filled pieces," Dexter answered. "What about you?"

Slowly, the redhead's gaze drifted towards Maxi's book in curiosity of what perhaps he enjoyed reading. When he noticed the romance genre book, Dexter lifted an eyebrow in surprise, although, did not question it. There was the temptation to perhaps pick up a romance or drama book in hopes of relating since strangely, the bespectacled man desired an extensive amount of time with Maxi. Relating to the blue-haired man and delving into the ventures of his chosen literature genre seemed like an excellent plan to create a bond.

- - because it's difficult to find people who understand.

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

    

    The sound of ceramic striking the surface of the table alerted him, springing his rear up from the seat and his knee up against the bottom of the table. The shock numbed him briefly, as he stared wide-eyed at the firstly terrifying view. That ghastly struggle for clear passage through his air waves was familiar to him... in a very cruel, reminding way. It sounded as if hands themselves were clasped around the other's throat for but a mere moment. "A-Are you alright?!" he exclaimed panically, just about raising himself to his feet before they had successfully plunged the fluids from the wrong tube. Even being aware that all was alright, Maxi remained unsettled. Surely his throat was burning up a hell storm having searing hot chocolate enter a area where it's not originally permitted; especially when that specific area isn't used to liquid contact in general.

    Maxi shook his head and leaned back in his chair in hopes of bringing his poor overworked heart back to peace. He was all too familiar, just as everyone else was, with the terrible feeling of drinking or eating something that went down the wrong pipe. Shaking his head, he commented, "I hate when that happens... it works me up just thinking about it happening again." His point was emphasized by a shudder. "I'm afraid of never coughing it out and suffocating..." he voiced his concern with a perturbed expression on his face. It felt as though a drought were already blowing a sandstorm through his throat, for he had unattractively cleared his throat and proceeded to cringe afterwards and the sound of himself doing so. Another sip of the sweet nectar helped alleviate this delusion.

    Maxi hadn't expected their lengthy response to his criticism towards his own book, and by the details their words carried he assumed they hadn't made the connection between the author's name and his. It was hard to believe he hadn't, since he could think of no other person who had the name Maxi. However, the likelihood of meeting the author of the story you were carrying face-to-face out of sheer coincidence was incredibly doubtful. He was appalled by the mentioning of Dexter's grandparents, who apparently bore a love for his book. Those bright orbs dilated with enlightenment, and a tilt of his head implied questioning disbelief. "I-Is that so? Do they really admire m-- this book that much?" he inquired in a much more higher tone than before, oozing the expression of his bashfulness.

    A flow of hopefulness and, for once, pride attempted to irrigate through his heart. Maxi has received wholesomely positive reviews from critics and has also succumbed to the usually painful temptation to eye online reviews of his book, neglecting your usual close-minded bigots and traditional boot-lickers. Despite all the credit he was presented, never had his heart truly swelled with accomplishment and instead it wilted with self defeat at every turn. Now, receiving direct verbal evidence that his book was cherished by an audience, he couldn't help but feel his first feeling of actually having achieved something great. "T-That's... wonderful that they appreciate it, and I hope that you will feel the same. It's quote interesting that a couple of the older generation values a piece consisting of homosexual themes, I have to say." Maxi paused, firstly planning on ignoring the final question... but if he did that, he feared disrespecting Dexter. The man's handsome complexion compelled him to respond and serve him his greatest effort socially. "Ju-just... reasons. Please ignore what I said earlier, if you don't mind..." The way he requested it, he was almost begging him.

    Dexter's final question had actually urged Maxi's mental gears to begin grinding away desperately for an answer. A favorite book? What could possibly be his favorite book? Anxiety climbed in yet again bringing an omen of pressure. MAxi's never recalled branding a single text as his favorite among the world's treasures of knowledge and fantasy; and so it was then that he discerned the answer was right beneath his nose for the past thirty seconds he remained frozen. "... ah, ah... right!" An awkward pause ensued his quirky exclamation, burning his cheeks like a glowing electric-top stove. The horror of bursting out his train of thought ate at him, and out of embarrassment he shook his hands frantically. "I-I mean , I have no favorite! Er..."

    He briefly cleared his throat, dragging in a breath of air and attempted to continue as composed as he possibly could. "I couldn't possibly favor merely one out of all the amazing stories that exist... my heart would ache for even enjoying one more than the other!" he passionately insisted, and it was after that it had occurred to him just how outspoken he was on the matter. Maxi shrunk away against the back of his chair and looked down at his lap shamefully. "I'm such an idiot... I'm going to curl up and rot later..." he thought to himself, grabbing another drink of his latte. One wrongly timed breath had lead to him lurching forward hastily, coughing in a terrible fit. Similarly to his guest, he slammed the cup onto the table and turned away, coughing up and gasping. "Dear lord it's contagious..." he rasped, unclogging his pipe with a few more coughs.



    

[Dexter Adams]

782 WORDS

@characternamehere

BY MINNIE OF GS

YOU KEEP A LOT TO YOURSELF,

Narrowly, Dexter had managed to notice the clinking of the ceramic mugs as the table was bumped. The panicked tone and questioning of well-being made Maxi's concern obvious to the redhead, even during his struggle to unclog his airways. There was a pause once the taller introvert found freedom to breathe fully, gently touching his throat in response to the revelation. A soreness remained which was the result of hot beverage that had started the momentary restriction. After a few slow breaths, his yellow eyes gradually drifted over to Maxi, a minor guilt sparking over worrying the adorable man. The amount of concern was strangely touching, almost as though its worth increased because it arrived from the lips of the blue-haired beauty stationed across from him.

"I'm fine... sorry for worrying you," he spoke softly. "Are you okay? It sounded like you smacked into the table."

A few forced coughs were taken, Dexter covering his mouth during the attempt to clear his throat. Once the final droplets were cleared the action was ceased as comfort was found. The slight irritation had fled, which secured the redhead's voice and banished the minor tickling sensation. When he heard his bashful company explain his hatred towards choking, the bespectacled man's eyes locked onto him. Concerned marked Maxi's countenance, obviously over thoughts about the statement he made towards the concept of suffocating. The terror within the notion was sensible considering at times it could generate a paranoia in merely consuming food. Dexter's yellow eyes softening as he found himself capable of comprehending the fear; a rarity for him.

"It's definitely something that can get rid of your appetite. Sometimes makes it difficult to trust something a trivial like food," Dexter added. "... If it makes you feel better I wouldn't stand by and let that happen."

Shortly after the statement, the redhead's pale hands retreated from the warm mug, instead settling on his lap. They bumped into the pocket of his sweater, Dexter's phone prodding at them. There was only a moment of thought taken towards the device as the redhead pondered if his grandparents had texted him yet. Although, when he listened to Maxi's high-pitched voice and witnessed the enchantingly bashful expression written across his face, he ignored the device. The concerns over his grandparents texting him was quick to flee when gazing upon this wonderful man. Thoughts were locked on Maxi, the redheaded introvert wondering if the connection between the author's first name and this man were indeed connected. Attentiveness was taken towards listening to what his acquaintance was stating about the book, a gently smile forming on Dexter's face as the atmosphere shifted to a more lighthearted one.

"Yeah, I guess it is a wonderful thing. I just wish that they would calm down over it a bit. The fact they are enjoying it so much is great, but when they get to points of trying to bust into my room to check if I have read the book is a step too far," he responded. "I swear, there will be a tiny indent in my door from all the knocking they do."

Unexpectedly, the inquiry about Maxi's favourite book seemed to cause another bout of bashfulness. The thought-based speaking possessed an endearing quality to it, which already caused the redhead's cheeks to gain a tint of red. Those mental compliments about Maxi being adorable were starting to embarrass him tremendously. The option to avert his gaze was taken when his yellow eyes noticed the red painting Maxi's face. Dexter's eyes descended to stare at his hands, noticing the phone still tucked cozily into his pocket. Only a thought was taken towards checking his messages, but the manner of which Maxi stated that he did not hold a favourite was adorable. The passionate speech caused the redhead's heart to flutter immensely, his face turning a deep shade of red while the heat of his face increased. Speaking was difficult for the bespectacled man, his company's attractiveness making the concept appear impossible.

When the familiar sounds of ceramic slamming onto a wooden surface and sudden coughing caused Dexter to straighten, turning alert. Similar to what had occurred earlier, Maxi had began coughing on his own drink which immediately brought a concerned countenance to the redhead's face.

"You okay?" Dexter inquired in a worried tone.

The redhead was prepared to hastily rush towards Maxi's side should assistance be required. He rose from his chair, eyes locked onto the blue-haired man who had began coughing. There was a slight trembling as concern overtook Dexter as thoughts of their earlier conversing over the hatred of choking flashed through his mind as he feared for the bashful man's safety.

- - because it's difficult to find people who understand.

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

    


    The young writer had to spare a while of hacking his lungs and windpipes clear of the burning nectar before he could actually muster a feasible response. "I'm fine, I'm fine..." he managed reassuringly, giving one final grumble in his throat before timidly scanning the coffee shop. It was fortunate for him that one patron had departed at some point in the last fifteen minutes and that the other patron besides them had paid no heed to their his earliest antic. Still, humiliation burned his chest just as the cup's contents had stung his throat. Returning his attention to the redhead, he immediately noticed their uneasy posture and the expression splayed upon his face and rose his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "H-Honestly! I assure you I am quite alright!" he continued, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

    Maxi had taken a mental note of how alert the man had gotten upon witnessing him take a swig down the wrong pipe, just as they had done similarly not too long ago. It was almost comical, since they both showed an equal amount of concern for one another yet they were nonetheless strange to each other even if they had exchanged names. It was this empathy that gave him a poetically intimate sensation; such a beautifully depicted representation of humane kindness. Maxi recalls having written about this type of interaction as if it were mere fiction; fantasy, and yet low and behold, here they were out of coincidence. It seemed as though fate brought them together here; two individuals with so much shared in common in both enjoyments and personalities.  "I suddenly have the muse to write a romance..." he admitted to himself, looking out the window and cringing.

    Romance wasn't a genre that he was very interested in since it was such a strange, foreign subject to him. Love and relationship in general was something unfeasible to him, incomprehensible and only somewhat so during February where Valentines Day lie in wait for the economic spike from the mass purchasing of Valentines favors. Now, his heart pounded against his lungs, pumping shaky breaths from him without the ability to regulate it. Shortness of breath, unsettled heart rate, lightheadedness. Maxi thought he'd have a heart attack, but slowly he was reducing the possibilities to something other than biological.

    For the sake of not leaving silence alone to encompass the atmosphere, he continued with a gesture of his own selection of a book. "So... have you read this book by any chance?" he asked Dexter, sure to add in a curious lift to his voice at the end. While he awaited a response, his soft fingertips idly caressed the appealingly texturized cover of the tome. "I was simply thinking... would you be interested in possibly being my reading partner?" "What are you thinking?!"  he scolded himself right afterwards, his stomach whirling violently with regret. It was a stupid proposal, and he couldn't believe he had the gonads to even make an offer that was not only trivial but also a matter requiring social dedication. Maxi would be lying if he told himself that he had not ever yearned to have someone to read a book with and discuss it in a long tangent. His heart was frolicking at the idea of having Dexter specifically as a partner, and it was disconcerting but irresistible.

    Embarrassed, he shrunk back in his chair and twiddled his thumbs nervously beneath the table, head tilted off towards the window and eyes observing the passerby through the one-way film. Anxiously, he continued. "I-If you.. ah... don't want to it's fine. I mean, after all we just met but... well I just thought it was a interesting idea," he rambled nervously. The blue-haired male felt as though his heart would burst from the pressure at any moment now... or at the very least he'd end up blacking out from the tension given by an offer. "... it doesn't have to be this bo-book either! We could uh... pick out one together." The way he worded that made him gulp, since it sounded so odd to him. It sounded too... close; too fond yet somehow so right at the same time. It was truly controversial, as was their very meeting.


    

[Dexter Adams]

653 WORDS

@characternamehere

BY MINNIE OF GS

YOU KEEP A LOT TO YOURSELF,

Concerns over Maxi's health seemed to erupt naturally from Dexter. The concept of the attractive man being in a position of misfortune caused heartaches. Beats were being skipped all as a result of his worry, his heart pounding against his ribs like a prisoner desiring freedom. There was a temptation sparking from the depths of his mind, a longing to hastily make his way around the table to assure the blue-haired man's safety, alas, he remained still. Self-conscious fears of appearing overly attached managing to drive away Maxi; that notion made the redhead's heartache worse. Even after Maxi grumbled that he was alright, Dexter continued feeling immensely concerned. He craved more reassurance towards the stranger's well-being, his fear over his acquaintance's possible ill-health making him desire an examination.

As he remained stationed in the chair, his legs subtly tremble. The worry he felt was obvious in his expression, remaining for a few moments even after the second insistence. There was plenty of effort placed into making his breath's more extensive, but his circulatory system begged for more oxygen. Eye contact returned to being averted as hints of heat and red returned to the redhead's face. An odd sensation remained in the air when Dexter was around Maxi which caused him to strive for closeness with the attractive man. It remained something that the bespectacled man could not explain with words. When the silence settled for a moment, the redhead found himself listened to the increased rhythm of his heart. Despite the attempts to sooth the rate, it would continue palpitating at times, although, it mostly occurred when he interacted with Maxi. Interacting with the blue-haired stranger contained a special feeling, something that caused his heart to beat immensely.

When the silence was broken, Dexter managed to glance towards his table companion to notice his gesture towards the book. The title was unfamiliar, but the cover made the romantic theme of the book obvious. The question that in the similar bashful manner as his other sentences caused the redhead's yellow eyes to flit back towards him. Hearing the following question caused heat to flare in Dexter's cheeks, the red painting itself across his face. Speechlessness was the only reaction that he could muster at first, finding the concept of reading with Maxi to be alluring. Notions of being able to sit close to the adorable stranger caused his heart to flutter and the idea attractive. Once again, those threads pulled him towards the idea, but anxiousness caused Dexter's words bated his words. Before an answer could be spoken, the redhead listened to Maxi nervously ramble which made his heart rate elevate. The rambling was endearing, especially with the socially awkward manner that the blue-hared man possessed.

"Um... that actually sounds nice..." Dexter began awkwardly. "Although... I have not read a romance book myself... I... uh... am really up for anything. We could even browse and see if there is anything else we may enjoy, that's if you don't mind. As said, if you want to read this one I wouldn't mind sitting through it with you."

An anxiousness settled over Dexter as his mind replayed the stutters and awkward pauses that has littered the beginning of his speech. Self-consciously, he thought about how Maxi may find his clumsy speaking unattractive, possibly going lengths to back out of the reading idea. Accompanying those thoughts was the immense feeling of heat rising in his face, making it clear that he blushing; would that make the interaction awkward? An awkward conversing could result in difficulties with creating a bond with Maxi, which caused Dexter's heart to skip a beat over the concept. A momentary prayer was sent, the redhead begging for social grace due to his immense feelings being generated hastily towards the man who remained a mere stranger. The explainable growth of emotions targeted at this beautiful blue-haired man expanded every second as an endless growth.

- - because it's difficult to find people who understand.

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

    


    Redness blossomed across the cheeks of the other male, as if roses had been put to sleep upon a magic botanist's fertilized bed. It was easy to formulate that his offer had cultivated this flustered garden on his features, and so a unbearably off-putting feeling had prompted him to lay back as if to push away from the table from sheer impulse. It was fortunate that his curiosity for the male's response and the idea of future contact between them had bound him in place with invisible chains. Maxi's eyes had no aim anymore, being enthralled by the all too tempting sight of the generic table which bordered both their tense vessels. Not a nerve had the energy at that moment to reward him with a glimpse of Dexter. It felt as though his innards were rolling about restlessly like the cubicle of a washing machine. 

    "I need to revise what I say far more before speaking..." he grieved regretfully. The emotionally-tormented teen waited like a criminal in trial, awaiting the final decision to be made against him. The handsome judge before him had finally answered, and he lifted his head up in shock that they had accepted his offer. However, he noticed the hesitation in the man's voice and body language. Clearly, it was as they explained. Romance was not of their interest, nor was it a common genre elected between groups of merely two for the awkwardly intimate experiences they'd share as they both progressed the story together. "Nice job making things awkward..." he sarcastically commented to himself.

    Hastily, he had nodded his head in agreement with them in order to win back their courage. "R-Right, right! So sorry!" he piped up quickly and apologetically, lowering his head in respect for Dexter and acknowledgement of his own mistake. "I-It's obviously more appropriate that we go pick out a different book entirely, together... and tis isn't a book suited for two people anyway I imagine! Haha... ha..." he insisted in a frantic tangent, smiling and laughing in a most nerve-wracked way. The signs of generalized anxiety he presented were so painfully clear that it could contagious induce unease on others.

    The sound of a bell brought the young writer to attention, debuting the entrance of two blond-headed women who were dressed in only the most expensive clothes branded with the subliminal propaganda that created the fashion of today's society. While the thread that protected their body had been visually appealing, he doubted it proved to be armor qualified to defend against this year's wintry air; especially here in the Canadian snow globe. The sound of their heeled boots, undoubtedly the favorite toy to clear unsalted ice, was enough itself to begin replacing Maxi's anxiety with annoyance. When those red, oil-pampered lips parted, the library connected to the cafe might as well have been a club with how unnecessarily they amplified their voices. The most ghastly trait they shamelessly flaunted was their illiteracy. "Those irritating gossip-girl voices..." he mulled to himself resentfully. Maxi could never see himself having more hostile feelings than finding himself in the same room with females like this. All looks, no brains, and no dignity; and even carrying a gull to disturb a peaceful atmosphere with their war-horn like attitudes.

    The look Maxi fixed the backs of their heads was less than pleasant, and so he had averted his gaze to Dexter to release a sigh. At least they changed his tune about his clumsiness. In the next gulp, he finished his latte, wiped his lips with a napkin, and proposed, "Sh-shall we go pick out a book?" Maxi's expression attempted a sincere guise of composure and patience, but small fissures in its quality defeated its deceptive prowess. As if the other male had replied, he was already pushing himself up from his seat in eager readiness to depart.


    

[Dexter Adams]

688 WORDS

@characternamehere

BY MINNIE OF GS

YOU KEEP A LOT TO YOURSELF,

The fortunate in being provided the opportunity to spend a more extensive amount of time with the gorgeous blue-haired man was already causing Dexter's heart to skip beats. Books took several days which suggested the possibility of more meetings with Maxi, although, that was if the redhead's heart did not escape the prison that was his chest. Simply ever action his fellow introvert accomplished caused a series of palpitations to erupt in Dexter's chest. Being able to narrowly hold a conversation with the attractive man was already making him increasingly nervous, but perhaps going into depths on a literary piece would allow for smoother conversing. Spending time with Maxi was alluring despite the consistent nervousness Dexter felt in his presence, although, he was praying his anxious emotions would settle with the assistance of a book.

The hasty and apologetic response made the redhead wonder if perhaps he should have avoided questioning the book's genre. There was always a chance that Maxi enjoyed the romantic stories and the least Dexter could do was respect that and give the genre the opportunity to impress him. As the blue-haired man recovered, the redheaded introvert's cheeks kept maintaining the red colouring from the adorable bashfulness the man displayed. His eyes flitted towards the book when Maxi mentioned it being unsuitable for two people and found himself uncertain of the verdict due to his lacking in familiarity.

"Well... I... um... am not too sure about that. I mean, if you really want to read it, I will still read it with you..." Dexter responded in an awkward tone, shortly being proceeded by a nervous smile.

Eye contact was attempted again while he spoke as he tried to assist in Maxi's recovery towards the suggestion. Accidentally making the adorable stranger anxious because of his words caused Dexter to feel guilty. The reaction to his questioning of the genre was an unintentional side-effect that the redhead desired to man. His yellow eyes strove to remain locked on Maxi, but despite the trying, the bespectacled man found his gaze flitting away as his heart rate skyrocketed with each glance. Before more endeavors for the goal of eye contact could be created, a bell tolled. The gently ringing alerted the arrival of new cafe occupants who planned to enjoy the quiet scenery. When the redhead's eyes drifted towards the pair of blondes, his yellow eyes narrowed in annoyance since they did not appear to be regular library goers.

They wore pompous dresses that displayed their tanned skin and obvious wealth based on the material and general design of the clothing. Proper equipment for cold weather was forgotten, traded for the opportunity to demonstrate their higher class of wealth. Jewelry adorned their fingers, necks and wrists to further the image of grandiose. Each element of their style made it obvious that they believed the modern society's definition of beauty in woman; which was a topic Dexter lacked comprehension in. Heels were clicking obnoxiously on the floor, causing the redhead to roll his eyes at the ridiculous requirement to flaunt wealth. Then the voices caused Dexter to flinch as the valley girl voice reached his ears, sparking an irritated groan from the him.

The bespectacled man was not impressed by the display since as a rather wealthy individual himself, he did not require to flaunt it towards everybody. At the mentioning of leaving to find a different book, Dexter provided a nod of agreement.

"I don't care if we find a different book, I just don't want to hear those damned voices anymore. Heck, I would read anything to avoid hearing that, so go ahead and pick whatever you want," Dexter mumbled. "Let's find a different place to read while we're at it, I don't think I would be able to focus hearing those pompous gossipers."

The porcelain cup returned hesitantly to Dexter's lips for the final time, the redhead being hasty to finish the beverage before rising from his seat. The cup was left for the cleaning staff while the bespectacled man snatched the book he planned to read before moving around the table to wait for Maxi.

- - because it's difficult to find people who understand.

[Deleted]

Maxi Bellclaire

Once Upon a Time

    


    The groan from Dexter earned the raising of Maxi's eyebrows, displaying his surprise with the redhead's reaction. His lips quivered indecisively, before arching into a smile; one that presented appreciation and empathy. "Even a common distaste," he thought to himself with pleasure. The young writer found comfort in knowing that they both shared a similar disdain for the rich valley girl types; and of course, this wasn't correlated to their sexuality. It was merely both their tolerance levels for the typical attitude and behavior of today's youth. Certainly they both showed signs of being ahead of their generation in terms of maturity and decency. Being a indebted introvert resulted in such personality more often than not.

    Therefore, when the male had jumped up to his feet along with him, the words he eagerly voiced dripped with a frustration that Maxi could more than emphasize with. A chuckle pulsed his throat subtly, kept confined by the anxious energies that worried his amusement be perceived as mockery. "Same here," he replied a little too enthusiastically, adding a nervously self-conscious essence to his smile. "Sh-shall we go then?"

    With a nod of acknowledgement to him, he ushered him along to the archway between the library and the cafe, and lead him out to the heart of the library: the atrium, core to the great labyrinth of knowledge. Signs were the guidance which led those astray where they desired in this maze of infinite wisdom, and with open arms the young writer presented for him the plethora of choices before them. Genres and tags were even included for extra detail. For the sake of convenience, quite a few magical kiosks were projected by magical devices; intangible catalogues yet still able to be interacted with. A flashy but nonetheless impressive innovation; and much needed for the miraculously extensive selection the library provided.

    Walking up to the catalogue kiosk, he worked his fingers across the bright blue, transparent screen with a dainty finesse showing that his use of his fingers was masterful when it came to any activity that didn't require too much exertion. Utilizing this kiosk was no different to dealing with a magical holographic keyboard and any old laptop. Slowly, he swiped through the genres and commonly-used tags in intervals, allowing enough time for them both to examine the selection that'd fit on-screen at a time. "Any particular kind of story you think you'd enjoy sharing and discussing?" he asked him courteously, open to any potential story. Maxi didn't want to be picky when another person was kind enough to accept his odd proposal; and this being his first time ever making such an arrangement, he had not a clue what book could possibly work other than a psychological mystery or thriller.