"Athena, stop it!" Felix exclaimed as loud laughter filled the air, and I couldn't help but smile at the sound of his sweet laugh. He was constantly squirming due to my nimble fingers reaching out occasionally to tickle his neck or his ribs; Felix himself was extremely ticklish. "I don't want you to mess up my hair, so stop it!" he whined as he managed to avoid another tickle attack, raising to his feet to admire his reflection in the mirror that was hung onto the wall. To be honest, his appearance was pretty perfect to me; shampooed jet black hair pushed back into a quiff, which is a massive trend nowadays, his eyes a dark shade of brown, reminding me of dark chocolate, and some freckles were spread across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, which made him more innocent-looking. "Athena!" he grumbled, giving my shoulder a gentle shove and I quickly snapped out of my daydream about his flawless appearance. "Were you checking me out?" he playfully questioned and I hurriedly shook my head as a light blush crept onto my cheeks. Apparently, I was a bad liar, and I guess that was confirmed as he chuckled lightly. "You so were." he teased, before turning back to his mirror and crinkled up his nose. "Do I look okay? How's my hair? Does my shoes go with my outfit?" he bombarded me with questions suddenly, and I moved my head in a nod, standing up from the foot of his bed.
"Look Felix, he'll love you, whatever his name is." I reassured him, wrapping my arms around him from behind, putting my head on one of his shoulder blades as he was much taller than me. "Whatever his name is." I added with a quiet laugh and he chuckled slightly, turning around and pulling me into a tight embrace.
"His name's Aaron." Felix whispered quietly, nodding and he smiled proudly. Yes, Felix is gay, and I'm apparently supposed to be lesbian, going for girls, but I don't understand why I don't like girls. But I have to marry a girl someday, my mother said that it was the law. Marry a boy, I'll be in jail as quick as you can say 'a plucked chicken'. But Felix's so cute, adorable and so cuddly yet so attractive and sexy at the same time; why can't he love me the way I love him? Of course, it's illegal. Stupid country laws. Actually, it's the world's law; no country allows different sex marriage. "He's so cute, adorable and so cuddly yet so attractive and sexy at the same time." he blabbed on, and that was where he lost me. He spoke exactly what I thought, it was as if we were meant to be, I swear. A pang of pain was felt in my heart, and I forced a wry smile as I nodded, my gaze dropping to the floor. I wanted him to be happy, even if it isn't me making him happy. He was my best friend, after all. "What time is it?" he questioned as he pulled away from our tight embrace, leaving my arms feeling empty, and I took out my mobile phone, switching it on and showed him the screen. "Almost seven o'clock. Okay, thanks babe!" he grinned, kissing his cheek; in his point of view, it was just a friendly kiss, but in my point of view, it was a flirty kiss that made me blush furiously. Felix smiled before grabbing his wool-lined denim coat, pulling it on and he rushed out of his bedroom without even a quick goodbye. That was him though, that was Felix, and I didn't mind- well, not usually but this time, he was going on a date, not with me, and that hurt. Sitting down on his bed again, I glanced around his bedroom, smiling to myself at the ripped posters that was about to fall off the walls where paint were starting to peel off, the walls already were white-washed, the wooden wardrobe covered in photos, or memories as Felix would refer them to; mainly photos of us so I stood up again to take a closer look at them, grinning at the memories that a photo of Felix and I in the almost untolerable blazing hot sunshine of Madrid in Spain brought back. But some bad memories were soon brought back into my mind after a bit of looking at the photo. If you looked closer, you could see a big scar across Felix's left shoulder that occured by silly, clumsy old him tripping over basically nothing and his shoulder collided with a waterside slide. We spent hours and hours in the local hospital for a x-ray, luckily, he didn't break any bones in his shoulder, but they stitched his shoulder up, which resulted into almost having my bleedin' fingers broken by his tight grip as he held onto my hand as a Spanish speaking doctor closed the gaping wound, and I giggled quietly at the memory of Felix screaming in absolute agony, although it was not supposed to be funny. He made a big thing out of it afterwards, and I could remember him going to cocktail bars and saying; "Look at my shoulder, see that scar? Yeah, I deserve a cocktail on the house for being tough." and I used to scoff and tell the barmaid about how he did it and Felix would pick me up easily and move me to another bar, and it would occur over and over again until it was dark; every day until we got onto our flight home. Looking over at his desk that was full of scribbles and drawings by Felix, my lips curved upwards into a smile as I traced his several signatures where he would often try and make his signature perfect, which he was satifised with after what seemed like a hundred times. Taking a seat on his wooden chair, I picked up a pen and a page of paper from the pile he usually had sacked up on the far edge of the desk, and I began to absentmindedly write:
Sometimes, people can be so blind as to how we love. Let us love, no matter what our gender is. We didn't choose to be a female nor a male. When a girl is in love, you can see it in her smile. When a boy is in love, you can see it in his eyes. When a couple is in love with each other, you can see it in their passionate actions towards each other. We spend all of our time defending the ones we love, yet we have no idea if the feeling is mutual. What if the ones we protect doesn't love us like we love them? Most of the time, the person who you think would take a bullet for you, would be the one who shoots the bullet at you. Tearing animals apart isn't right, so why is tearing people apart okay? It is not, and never will be okay.
Sighing quietly, I stood up and scrunched up the piece of paper that I had just written on and threw it at the bin before leaving the room. Little did I know, the scrunched up piece of paper had bounced off the edge of the bin and landed onto the darkly coloured carpet.