Question: when did you finally figure out your sexuality? And what exactly is it, if I may ask.

Answer: I just want to know because I'm still having problems with figuring out mine.

(Please do not play the song until you're told to in the chapter for added effect. I hope you enjoy Khalid's POV ;))

Chapter 45 - A Pansexual Spouse.

Khalid

"This is the third time I'm eating cereal today, Khalid. We need some real food in this flat," Chris complained, bouncing onto his bed with his bowl of cereal in hand.

We'd replaced the bunk bed with two full beds, placed at each person's corner in the room, and I have never been happier about making a decision. I was tired of sleeping under Chris, especially since he never stayed quiet up there. Always rolling or bouncing for whatever reason. 

"Yeah, okay," I replied dryly, idly swiping and matching candies on my phone. 

After taking a while to study me, Chris began. "Are you sure you're still not ready to talk to Oliver?"

"What should I say to him?" I mumbled back, not taking my eyes away from my phone. 

"I don't know, your true feelings?" He replied bitingly, stating the obvious. But I didn't care to pay attention to him, I wasn't ready. 

"And what are those?" I asked nonchalantly, sounding as detached as I've been these past few weeks. 

"Don't you dare give me that," he shot back with a stern voice, making me look up from my phone and stare right at him.

Staring back at him with empty eyes, contrasting to his that bore so much concern in them, his mouth was stuffed with cereal. He'd nagged me with his supernatural powers and got me to stop drinking. For now, at least. I didn't trust myself in two, three more days. Ironically, drinking was the only way I could keep a clear head. 

"You know exactly what you're feeling, I don't," he concluded with a mouth full of food, taking another spoonful even though there wasn't much space left in his mouth. 

He always defenestrated his manners whenever he was in the room, alone with me. I couldn't blame him though, I did too.

"And what if I don't?" I asked him, placing my phone on my chest. 

"I think you do. You're just scared to think about it or accept whatever it is, and, believe me, I'm not judging you. I'm aware that it can be scary the first time," he gestured with his spoon as he spoke. 

Chris had been my closest friend for as long as I could remember what friendship truly meant, he'd been my closest relative, as well, so he knew almost everything about me. If not everything. The little things he wasn't aware of were definitely a pile of irrelevant rubbish. 

He also knew that I was pansexual and this was the first time I was ever having an encounter with a guy. I mean, I've spent more time than necessary admiring a few guys but Oliver was the first to ever kiss me. He was the first to ever show me what it truly felt like to be with a guy even before he kissed me. He was the first to ever make me feel something for a guy.

To say I was scared of this was an understatement. Just like Chris said, I was terrified to think about the possibility that for the first time I was genuinely attracted to a boy. To make matters worse, a very attractive one with more boys than necessary trailing behind him and asking for his hand in a committed relationship or otherwise. There were so many people with all kinds of motives these days. 

Right after my first relationship with this Christian girl who supported polyandry, I've not been able to take the whole concept of being in a relationship seriously anymore. It all just comes off as a joke to me. This one, however, wasn't looking like a joke and it seemed no amount of alcohol could turn it into a joke. 

Amongst everything, what confused me the most was the uncertainty of the reason why Olly would kiss me a week after willingly kissing some boy in front of the gate. My insecurities had gotten the best of me and I panicked. I was scared of being thrown into a love triangle, I wouldn't be able to survive that. I'm way too possessive with my friends, let alone someone I'm fully committed to. 

"No, I don't," I babbled after bringing myself out of my thoughts, taking my eyes back to my phone. 

"There's no denying this, shaqiq (brother). You were just lost in thought seconds ago. I think you do know exactly what you're feeling. You're just scared to admit it," Chris finished, expecting a reply from me but I just remained silent. "Are you sure he has not sent you a text since then?" He brought himself to ask another question so I would speak. 

"No, he hasn't," I lied for what felt like the hundredth time. I'm not too sure that he believed me anyway because whenever I answered he would do his skeptical blink thing and contort his facial features into an immense doubtful expression. I kept lying anyway, because I couldn't admit the truth. 

If I told Chris that Oliver had been sending me countless messages since that day, he would force me to reply and I wasn't ready to. I also wasn't ready to read the messages in full. The previews from the top of my screen were already heart wrenching enough. I had to turn off my WhatsApp notifications just for that reason. 

"Then you should text him!" Chris scolded, barbarically spraying milk from his mouth. He didn't even care that he was currently eating like some impatient Viking who was also a pirate. "Look, Khalid, if you both don't clear this thing up and start talking again, things will never go back to how they used to be in Lighthouse. The shopping, the gathering, the party, all of that will cease to exist because of this. I don't know if you've noticed, but Yadiri and Jess always send me the stink eye whenever they see me. It's like they just want to murder me, and I'm not even you!" He continued yelling. 

Of course I'd noticed that his best friends wanted my head on a spike, and that was why I tried my very best to avoid them. I only drove to school when I was absolutely sure that they'd left, scared to bump into them in the garage or on my way down. Because of this, Chris had stopped riding to school with me; I was always late.

"You're right, I've not noticed," I lied again, distrait and fed up with everything. 

"As much as I doubt that, I'm too tired to continue arguing with you," he dismissed the topic and took another spoonful of cereal. "All I'm just saying is," he started, mumbling his words before swallowing, then he continued. "All I'm saying is Olly has been a complete mess recently. He's been skipping school, and he never skips school," he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember if Olly had actually ever skipped school. But even I could tell that he would never, not intentionally. Not if something wasn't seriously wrong with him. Oliver had such a grim determination for his studies. "If Olly turns into an actual goth I'll have you to blame. He already has enough gothic qualities," he mumbled the last few words. 

I was greatly aware that Olly had emotional problems, unexplainable emotional problems. And I always tried my best to cheer him up on his days. Sometimes he would just turn off and go sad for the rest of the day and that always bothered me. I hated seeing him like that. The worst I'd seen him was on the first day we went to the lake and I'd made a promise I wasn't even sure I could keep anymore. 

He'd told me that he had a case of aquaphobia, and I'd blindly— in the heat of the moment— promised to get him back into the water once again. I'd also caught him a few times just sitting in the balcony with teary eyes, but that was around the first few weeks of resumption. I assumed being in the university for the first time was the reason behind his sadness, but it seemed there was a whole lot more. It hurt me so much to know that I was the reason behind this his new wave of sadness. 

My thoughts mixing up with each other, and my words getting lost in the mess, I remained silent. Unable to say anything else to Chris. 

"Text him, please. Promise me that you'll text him," Chris continued to persuade me. 

"I-I don't know, Chris. I can't promise you that. But I can promise you that I'll think about it," I sighed, failing the same level of Candy Crush Saga for the sixth time today. I had absolutely no idea why I was still wasting my time playing, I just couldn't get myself to click out of the game. 

"Well, at least that's something," he sighed, taking the last spoons from his bowl. 

He got up and walked to the kitchen to clean up his plate. Returning to the room, he opened the fridge and groaned out loud. 

"Just look at this, we have absolutely nothing in our fridge!" He crowed, gesturing at our empty fridge before grabbing a bottle of water and roughly slamming it shut. 

"Careful, you don't want to spoil the fridge. There's no money for that, especially since we want to get a new television," I warned him. 

"Oh, bless Allah, you're finally interested in something. Oh wait," he feigned a serious face and bit his index finger. "You only care because without a TV you can't play your FIFA20 on your PS4 which you love so much," he stated plainly and plopped down on his bed. 

"Akhrus," I muttered blankly, still swiping on my phone. 

"Hey! Don't tell me to shut up," he half chided sticking his index finger at me. I just snorted

"Adhhab w yumaris aljins mae sadiqatik, Shiarli," I snorted. 

"You're really asking for it, Khalid. And no, we've not had sex before, thanks for your suggestion," he sang quite eerily with a fake wide grin. "Oh, and quick question, is Alex into you?" 

My eyebrows squeezed together and my gaze hardened. "Hell no! Why would you ask me that?!" 

"Sorry, but I've been noticing some really weird behaviour from him… and you, even. It's like you support him purposely," he defended his question, making me feel even more disgusted with myself. 

"Goodness me, and that's why you think that way?" I grimaced, disappointed by his assumption. 

"What else am I supposed to think, shaqiq? " He shrugged, taking the bottle back to his mouth. 

Choosing to pay no attention to his insensible assumptions, I sighed, "There's nothing going on between us. The boy is straight, just highly jealous. You know, he's just like Nasir; he only talks a lot because if he doesn't, nobody will pay attention to him. Nobody will recognise that he's even there," I let out a weak chuckle. 

"Stupid excuse," Chris spat, clicking his tongue. 

"You don't seem to like him much," I observed, fixing my gaze on my phone. 

"No, I do not. And I probably never will. Unlike Nasir who's my cousin, I've only known Alex for a few months. I find it very difficult to tolerate him," he confessed, utterly unapologetic. 

"He doesn't get along with Olly," I pointed out.

"One more reason why I dislike him. He can never get along with good people, and I like to think I'm a good person," he proclaimed, a proud smile tugging at his lips and making his eyes shimmer. 

"Keep telling yourself that, shaqiq," a ghostly, quick smile appeared on my face just before the darkness within absorbed its light. 

"We're going grocery shopping tomorrow after school, Khalid. I need to eat real food. This face will not remain handsome and my beautiful cinnamon complexion won't stay so bright if I don't have the right nutrients in my system," Chris informed me before dunking the now empty bottle into the trashcan at the end of the room. 

"Pick that up," I ordered. He woefully missed the trash can. I wonder why he always kept trying when he consistently missed. Out of ten throws, he would only get one and a half.

"I know," he groaned, crawling out of his bed. "Did you hear what I said about grocery shopping tomorrow? You're driving."

"Yeah, sure, I heard you. No problem," I agreed. 

To an extent, Chris was right; I was being a complete coward by avoiding this. Even more so, I was being inconsiderate; despite knowing everything Olly was going through because of this, I chose to remain silent. Just because I was scared of being vulnerable to heartbreak. 

The rest of my day was spent on some app which made me even more depressed than the real world managed to. At least it helped direct my sadness somewhere else. It directed it to the fact that I'd been playing the same level of Candy Crush Saga for days now, and passing the level was nowhere in my near future. 

Just like Chris did, I stuffed my face with cereal as dinner because, truly, that was the only food we had in this flat. Turning on my WhatsApp notifications once again, I instantly received messages from Oliver and from the preview, it looked like he was giving up on me. That was the one thing I actually dreaded the most; him giving up and finding someone else. 

Swallowing hard, I brought myself to open WhatsApp right after I stopped getting notifications, shakily clicking on his chat box. Seeing that he had already gone offline, I felt a little bit relieved because I wasn't ready to talk with him about this yet, and texting wasn't really the ideal way to apologise. 

Reading the first few messages he sent right after I cravenly ran away from him— who was surprisingly audacious enough to want to talk about it and sort things out— tears began stinging at my eyes. Thoroughly taken aback by this because I was nothing close to being a cryer. I was mostly strong and always did a good job bottling up my emotions, but these words of his effortlessly brought tears to my eyes and no matter how much I tried to stop myself, they just came streaming down. 

Luckily, I was a silent cryer and Chris was already asleep so he couldn't hear me cry, as it should be. Chris never has to be aware that I shed actual tears. Scrolling down, the texts seemed to be an unending chapter of words that pierced through me like a sharp, pointy end of a poison coated spear. I couldn't take it any longer. I skipped right down to the end and typed. 

Me
Please let's talk about this tomorrow, don't give up on me just yet. Our friendship is far from over. I won't let it end like this.

I waited for the text to deliver and for him to come online, excited, like he usually was but that never happened. None of that ever happened— the text never delivered and he never came online. If not for the fact that I could still see his profile picture and his last seen, I would've concluded that he'd blocked me. But I still could, so I reinforced my hope with that. 

I went straight to bed with a huge hole in my chest and my heart thudding frantically against my ribcage. 

After lectures the next day, Chris and I refreshed and got ready to quickly drive to the supermarket and get our necessities. I came back a lot earlier than Chris because I skipped my last lecture. I just couldn't make it through the whole class. My attention wasn't even with me so it was a vile waste of my time. 

We made our way to the elevator and clicked for it to open, but it seemed someone was coming up so we had to wait. The second the elevator doors slid open and my eyes relayed the information of what it was seeing to my brain, my expression fell to a blank, deadpan mess. 

Olly was holding the hands of the same boy I'd seen him kissing some time ago. And I'd checked my phone some minutes ago, he hadn't even checked my messages! I know I didn't have the right to be angry because I'd been ignoring him, but I was angry. I was furious. I had to press my lips into a hard line just to stop myself from cursing at the boy he was with. 

Tightening my jaws, I walked into the elevator the second the boy gleefully pulled him out. It took everything in me to not punch him in the face and to not scream at Oliver for all these mixed signals. He was confusing me, a lot, and it wasn't fair! He was making it difficult for me to slowly admit my feelings for him. 

There was absolutely no way I was going to put myself out there and get heartbroken by him. Despite the inevitability of that occurrence, I wasn't ready for my first boy heartbreak. 

Chris hastily greeted before joining me in the elevator.

"You didn't even talk to him!" He scolded, smacking my arm, but I just remained as stiff as a board. 

"He didn't even talk to me," I shot back, my voice coming out hard and cold. Even I was surprised by it. 

"He kissed you, Khalid. How obvious do you want him to be?!" Chris continued to rave. 

"I'm not asking for him to be obvious, Chris. I'm asking him to be plain and straightforward with me," I countered, walking right out of the elevator and leaving him behind. 

"How is he not being plain and straightforward?" He hastily shuffled up to me. 

"Well, you see, that boy he was just holding was the same boy I saw him kissing a week or so ago," I revealed with a nonchalant shrug, taking long strides and trying my very best to act unaffected but my mask was slowly slipping off. 

"What?" Chris blurted. Despite not looking at him, I could tell the look on his face at the moment. 

"You heard me right, Chris. I've just been acting clueless towards him because I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable around me. It was already obvious that he was into me, I wanted to take things slowly. But now, I don't even know what I'm doing," I huffed, opening my car and roughly getting in. 

"And that's exactly the problem," Chris yelled again, tapping on the window for me to open the passenger's seat. I didn't even realise that it wasn't open, I was so overcome by anger to pay attention to the little things around me. "Everyone is confused and yet no one wants to talk to anyone. No one wants to tell anyone anything. Good communication could easily fix this."

"About communication, I sent him a text to talk today, he still hasn't read it up till now," I stated, turning on the car and driving out. 

"Seriously? A text? After he'd brought himself to talk to you in person and you walked away from him?" Chris's lips curled into a disappointed frown. 

I hadn't told him about the time he'd come to my room and I'd gotten so scared I slammed the door in his face-- I still couldn't believe I did that. The current of the blood flow to my brain was too intense, I'd made the worst spontaneous decision. 

It's just, I was still trying to figure myself out by myself those few days, I didn't want to talk to him yet. I didn't want him or his words to influence whatever decision I concluded on. I wanted to choose what I truly wanted, not cajoled into anything that wouldn't last long because I wasn't ready for one offs. 

"Let's just forget about this," I sighed, driving out of the gate. 

"For now. Trust me, you'll never be at peace until you settle this," he mentioned and I stiffened. I stiffened because it was the truth. 

Chris and I had gotten everything we needed and even after promising him that I was done drinking, I got more alcohol. There really was no way I could go the next few weeks without it and he was aware of this. 

The succeeding week had been okay, with the aid of a few drinks here and there, until the night Shirley persuaded me to join the game she and Chris had been creating for half the day. I tried my best to avoid Shirley, but it wasn't anything personal. I loved that she was with Chris, I loved that my cousin had found her. But I didn't trust myself around her; I was sure to bombard her with so many questions about Oliver and Kevin, and if she knew anything about the guy Oliver was holding hands with. 

During the matriculation party, Olly and Kevin danced and shoved their drunk faces into each other's personal space, they looked like a frigging couple. More reasons to why I couldn't bare my emotions to Oliver, I was sure to get heartbroken. He just has too many people around him.

Anyway, I'd eventually agreed to participate in the game. Surely I knew Oliver was going to be there and I was hoping we wouldn't need to collide. Despite being in the room with the both of them while they prepared the game we were to play, I didn't know what kind of game they were planning. They were so discreet in their activities those two. 

Everything had been going smoothly until Alex decided to open his mouth and say one of those things that always bought him the attention he desired. I couldn't help my temper, I was already tipsy enough to lose my discipline, so I just lashed out on him and quickly walked away. 

My tolerance wasn't exactly gracious and my temper was a short fuse. If I'd stayed there any longer then I would dropped a punch on Alex's face. I avoided that by walking away from the mess I'd made.

* * * 

Alex was currently in my room playing on my PS4, and Chris kept sending death glares my way. Three games, four games and he didn't want to leave yet. Chris abandoned what he was pretending to be doing on his laptop and walked over to my bed. 

"The fuck is he still here for?" Chris whispered not so discreetly, narrowing his eyes at me. 

"Allah won't be happy with you cussing," I tried to change the topic, taking a swig from my bottle. The second I placed it back on the floor beside my bed, Chris snatched it away from me.  

"That's enough drinking for you today," he hissed. "Talk to Oliver."

"No, I won't. I'm fine. Please hand over my drink," I demanded, holding my hand out to him. 

"No," he refused, walked over to the fridge and irately threw it inside. 

Now, I could not easily get down from my bed and retrieve my drink, but I was too tired to move a limb. More so, I was not ready to get into an argument with Chris, but he looked girdled and eager for one. 

"Also, did you seriously tell this guy that Oliver kissed you?" Chris's facial expression contorted into a look of disgust as he gestured towards Alex. 

"No, I did not," I answered sharply, widening my eyes at him and motioning for him to speak more quietly so Alex won't hear, but he wasn't cut out for any of that pretence. 

"Then how on earth did he know?" He insisted, glaring down me. 

Opening my mouth to reply, I was cut short by Alex who answered for himself. 

"I overheard Khalid telling you on Sunday after the party," he paused the game and turned to us. 

"Oh, shoot, I forgot you're the third roommate we never asked for, always available," Chris shot back bitterly with a fake smile plastered on his face. 

"The thing is why on earth did he do it? I did tell him not to do anything he would regret," Alex ignored Chris and continued. He was probably used to his cold shoulder by now. 

It took me a while to fully register what Alex had said.

"What?" I snapped, my blood had already began to boil and Alex seemed to notice the sudden redness of my face. 

"I-I told him not to do anything he would regret," he stuttered slightly, blinking nervously. 

The words I intended to say were just stuck in my throat, and that was one of the reasons I used my fist instead in these kind of situations. However, thanks to the alcohol, I was too tipsy and tired to move a limb. Alex had his stars to thank for that. Chris was the first to talk. 

"Yo, but really, what is actually wrong with you?" He asked, his nose scrunched up, his eyebrows puckered, and his voice filled with disdain. 

"I wasn't talking to you," Alex bluntly brushed him aside, adamant and holding on to that cocky tone in his voice. 

"Oh, no shit, you're in my room, goddamn it," Chris growled back at him, folding his hands in front of his chest. 

Tensions were just rising between these two and I was just drunk on my bed, thinking and calculating how many times Chris has cussed recently and the amount of prayers he would need to say to ask for forgiveness. 

"I'm in Khalid's room," he emphasised my name, gesturing at me. "I'm here to see Khalid, not you."

"And I ask again, are you into my cousin or something?" Chris grimaced, shaking his head at the thought. 

"What? I-no! No, I'm not!" Alex rapidly defended himself, leaning up from the bean bag chair.

"Then what's your deal, really? Why would you tell Oliver such a thing? He doesn't even talk to you," Chris sassed with his last sentence. 

"He was looking at Khalid with dreamy eyes! I had to stop him! We all don't want that for him, do you?" He continued to defend his useless point which was totally uncalled for. 

"Oh, goodness, the way you reason boggles my mind," Chris groaned, rubbing his temples. "And you're just going to lie there silently like the drunkard you're gradually turning into?" Chris then remembered that I was actually in the same room with them.

I took a minute to breathe and get my temper under control because, contrasting to the blank deadpan on my face, my heart was battering my ribcage at a dangerous speed and I just wanted to lay my hands on Alex's neck. 

"Honestly, you make it difficult to like or support you," I said to Alex with a forced, bitter chuckle. 

"What do you mean?" His expression fell. He probably wasn't expecting this from me since I always seemed to defend him in cases like these. 

"I mean exactly what you understand, if you do have brains to comprehend human dealings," I shortly replied, surprising myself with my response. 

"Oh, it actually seems the alcohol has knock some sense into you," marvelled Chris, staring at me in disbelief. 

"No, I really don't understand anything, call it whatever you want. As a friend, I tried to protect you against some gay boy who was probably just lusting over you, and this is what you tell me?" Alex lamented, cocking his head to the side. 

Sighing, I sprawled out even wider on my bed. "Get out of my room, Alex," I ordered, not even sparing a glance at him.

"What?" I heard the defensive tone drop from his voice, baring it and making it so for us to hear it tremble with a fretfully. 

"As a friend now, I'm trying to save you from my hands which want to squeeze the life out of your neck. So, please, leave," I ordered again, paying no heed to the change in his voice.

Alex remained frozen on the bean bag chair, staring at me with shocked eyes, but I glared back at him with unfamiliar, dark ones. 

It is all fun and games until someone gets punched. 

"You better leave, Alex, he means it," Chris warned then continued. "I think you should go to your room and reflect on your life. Reflect on why you don't have too many friends. Then teach yourself how to make friends, most especially, how to keep them. Also, you should teach yourself how to talk, when you're required to talk, the things you're permitted to say, and how to sometimes keep your opinions to yourself until someone asks for it," Chris advised, intending to sound mean and cold, but he couldn't help how genuinely concerned he sounded. 

It was one thing I really loved about Chris. He doesn't judge people too quickly and he always gives people, no matter how evil, the benefit of the doubt. He always believes there's room for change and improvement in a person. 

Nimbly, Alex got up from the bed, placed the gamepad on the TV set up, close to the PS4 console, and walked away. He still managed to look as unapologetic as ever despite the sad expression on his face. I wondered how someone could posses such powers, what exactly happened to him that turned him this way. 

That was the last time I saw/ heard from Alex for the rest of the week. I learnt, a few days later, that the very next day after Chris and I had rounded on him, he left school and travelled back to his state. I don't know if he left because of what Chris and I said to him, I did feel a bit guilty, but I didn't regret anything I said to him. And neither did Chris. 

Whether I wanted to accept it or not, Chris had actually been a better friend to him than I was because I just kept ignoring him and putting up with his attitude. Chris was the only one bold enough to consistently call him out for his unacceptable behaviour.

* * *

We were nearing the end of another week and Oliver hadn't read or even received my text, let alone replied to it. I wasn't one to keep sending text messages like a madman, so that little text was the only thing I'd left for him. 

Thursday and Friday were declared lecture free for all of us and I couldn't be happier. That meant more time to drink and less time to act or actually try being sober. Chris somewhat gave up trying to get me to stop drinking, he knew there was no stopping me. Not until this was settled. 

It was Friday now, Oliver's birthday was the next day. He'd told me about it the last time we were at the lake and it had since been stuck in my head, I couldn't forget the date. Staring at the bracelet he once gifted to me, I couldn't believe I was approaching this like a child. I couldn't believe that I was scared of a simple heartbreak; a natural phenomenon that was bound to happen to everyone at some point in their lives. 

I was scared of something that wasn't even guaranteed of happening. Even if it was, Olly was definitely worth it. He deserved to break my heart if it was meant to be. By the way, what I'd been feeling these past weeks were nothing short of a heartbreak, I was heartbroken. 

Shooting up from my bed with resolve, I picked up my keys and sprinted out, making sure to lock the door behind me since Chris was out on another date with his girlfriend. I raced down the hallway to the other hallway that led right to his room because I knew that if I didn't-- if I walked any slower-- I would lose my nerve. 

About to sprint past Jessica's door, it swung open and she stormed out, all dressed up, but looking seriously pissed with her face a dark shade of red and her eyes slightly swollen. If I hadn't reacted quickly, I would've bumped into her. 

"Oh, hey, Jess. What's up?" I asked, almost panting from my mini-race. 

"Fine," she replied dismissively, aggressively locking her door. 

I could tell she was far from fine. I could also tell that she was in a haste to leave. 

"You don't seem fine—" I began to babble my thoughts but she cut me right off. 

"Why don't you ask Oliver," she spat at me, swinging her head and throwing her wavy, brown hair all over the place. 

"Did something happen?" I continued to inquire, unable to decipher the severity of what was going on. 

"I don't know, go talk to him yourself," she made to ignore me and walk away but just couldn't bring herself to. "Oh, and, by the way, I hope you're happy now. Your silence has turned him into a stranger to everyone who thought they knew him, including me!" She ranted, sticking her index finger in my face, causing me to take a few steps back. 

I was fully aware that I wasn't exactly best friends with her these past few weeks, but the things she was saying to me, in my opinion, was totally uncalled for. 

"I was going to talk to him, his birthday is in a few—"

"Oh, it's still too early to talk to him, don't you think? You should ignore him and slam more doors in his face," she interrupted me again. 

"Jess, I'm really sorry for all that I did but Olly put me in a state of confusion. He—" before I could completely word my sentence, she held out a hand in the air and shut me up.

"Yeah, save that for him. He's the one who needs to hear it." This time, she spun around and began to walk away from me. "And to think I had a lot planned for his birthday," she mumbled to herself, but it was audible enough for me to hear. "And good luck with talking to him, he has turned into a barbaric madman," she called from above her shoulder, not turning around to spare one more glance at me. 

Everything she said to me was enough to make me change my mind, but I refused to. I'd dragged this too long and since he'd tried to settle this in a mature way at first and I'd shut him out, it was my turn to try to amend things. 

He wasn't too excited to see me because he wanted to shut the door in my face, but thanks to my quick reflexes, I stopped him before he could complete that action. However, then didn't seem like the right time at all. I met him in an already agitated state. He was probably mad for the same reason Jess was. 

And then he confessed to me and all that courage I'd mustered dissolved, and drained away from me, leaving my drunk, flustered self speechless and puzzled. I broke once again and cowered back into my shell. Why would he mention such string feelings if he didn't mean it, I wasn't ready for this. It usually took me a lot of time to develop feelings, but once I did, I loved too hard-- I always fell too deep. 

Unluckily for me, I'd already fallen too deep for Oliver, but he was kissing other guys and snuggling with his course mate, Kevin. If he turned out to be like Sylvia, my first Christian girlfriend who supported multiple partners relationship, my possessive self wouldn't be able to deal with it.

Being the idiot I was, I walked away… again. Trying my best to shut out the words he was practically wailing at me, I broke into tears even before I got to my room. I hadn't taken so much alcohol in one day before, I fell sick and puked my guts out five times the next morning before I could feel, in any way, okay to eat. 

Chris refused to say anything to me throughout, he just made breakfast, served me, and left my dirty self to wallow in the consequences of my own bad decisions. On Saturday, I noticed that the girls weren't around in the dorm and neither was Oliver, I really just want to cry and pour myself out to him but he wasn't available, not today and probably not ever. 

My entire Saturday and Sunday was spent in tears, actual tears. Khalid Obé, the boy who never cried even when he lost his father, was crying over some boy he'd accidentally and unknowingly fallen so deeply for. To say I was scared by this was an understatement. Either something was broken inside of me, or I was just beginning to figure myself out. 

It was Sunday evening and I hadn't had a shower, not yet. I only managed to brush my teeth and eat the takeaway Chris got me. The other times I'd stepped out of bed was to take a quick piss. I'd been playing all kinds of sad songs from my little Bluetooth speaker which I placed on my bedside table, and I'd also been drinking. 

Olly still hadn't replied to any of my messages, they hadn't even delivered. I was starting to believe that he'd actually blocked me but because of some WhatsApp glitch, I could still see his last, last seen and his profile picture. 

Chris refused to stay in the room with me because, apparently, "my mood was soiling the air."

(Play the song now.)

The door clicked and Chris stepped in, somewhat hastily. The chuckle he entered the room with muffled out the second he saw my miserable self laying miserably on my miserable bed which had to put up with my misery. 

"Lamahabat allah, Khalid! (For the love of God, Khalid!) Are you sure you're okay?" 

"Yeah," I muffle-groaned into my pillow, sending him a thumb's up sign.

I heard him take steps towards my bed, then the bottles lined on the floor there clinked and he seemed to pick up the one that still had an amount left in it. 

"There are six empty beer bottles, with this one, seven. I swear, if you take one more sip of alcohol I'll report you to baba," he threatened and I could feel his gaze on the back of my head which was facing him. 

"Go ahead, feel free. Tell uncle that your best cousin-- and roommate-- is bad influence on you," I mumbled back to him, sniffing. There wasn't much air inside this little space I buried my head into and I could feel myself suffocate. 

"What the hell? Don't you dare play the victim here," I could hear the displeasure in his voice. "And what even is this song that is playing, it's dejecting," he rolled me over and got my phone from underneath my stomach.

Laying on my back now, all thanks to him, I could finally get the appropriate amount of air into my lungs. 

"Vancouver Sleep Clinic, goodness gracious!" He exclaimed, placing a hand over his widely gaped mouth. I perked up, wondering why he suddenly exclaimed. 

"What is it? Is there a message from Olly?" I shot up from the bed, holding myself up with my hands which I managed to place firmly on the bed. Everything else blurred and mixed into incomprehensible rubbish. 

"You're listening to an artist who isn't Khalid," he gasped, and then I could see the smile in his eyes. 

"So that's just why you screamed?" I groaned and let myself fall back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with tears falling into my ears. 

"That's enough reason to scream, and shout, even. You know it's very serious when you step out of Khalid's sad songs to find even sadder songs," he continued to make jest of me. 

He was most definitely expecting some kind of reply or reaction from me but I just ignored him and remained silent. 

Sighing, he sat down on my bed. Placing a compassionate hand on my thigh, he started. "You should talk to Oliver, shaqiq. Like, really talk to him. Just say everything on your mind no matter how vulnerable it might make you," he advised. 

"Well, I've been waiting for him to return to the dorm," I quavered, releasing the choking sob at the back of my throat. 

"Oh, that. He's back," Chris let out, idly scrolling through my phone with his other hand, unaware of how tense his statement just made me. "Goodness me, all these sad songs. What exactly are you trying to do to yourself?" 

"Don't joke with me," I warned him, my eyes scanning his face to find the lie. 

"Oh no, I'm not. I just saw him in the hallway right now. I saw Jess drive in then I ran to go meet him. He looks… happy," he searched his head for the right words, "He looks different. With his now silver hair and that somewhat genuine smile on his face."

"Silver hair?" I sputtered, wondering if Chris was actually being serious with me. 

"Oh, yeah, silver. And please don't call it white or else he'll just shove his intelligence in your face and you'll begin to rethink your life decisions to not study a page everyday," he rambled on and on. 

"Chris, what exactly are you driving at?" I called his attention back with a handful of annoyance. 

"What I'm driving at," he garbled my own words back at me, "Is that you should go talk to him and stop playing these sad songs. You're miserable. He's happy, or at least, finding happiness. You'll regret not talking to him sooner if you don't talk to him now!" He clamoured, retrieving his hand from my thigh. 

But he didn't need to. Before he could finish talking, I was already up and out of bed, dashing to fix my face. I could bare my emotions to Olly, but the last thing I could do was to let him see me cry. 

"You're going now?" Chris gabbled, shocked by my quickness. I remained silent, though. There was no use saying anything to him now, I intended to save my energy for Oliver. He needed to hear my voice more than anyone else.

"You're going now," he then noted himself, nodding his head. 

Pulling the door open with one aggressive swing, I made to jump out but Chris called me back. 

"Wait!"

"What is it?" I deadpanned, staring blankly at him. 

"Are you sure you're sober enough to talk to him?" He mocked and puckered his lips to stop himself from laughing out. 

"Tozz feek, (go away)," I groaned and banged the door shut behind me. 

Making my way straight to his room, I didn't even know what I was thinking. I just knocked once and tried to check if the door was open. Fortunately for me, it was, so I just let myself in. 

Concentrating on his face and the things I wanted to say was a bit of a struggle for me because he was only in boxer briefs. Nothing more, nothing less. His adorably little bulge, staring me in the face. 

Successfully looking past that and cutting straight to the chase, I soon realised that he was done waiting for me. He was done hoping for us, and nothing scared me more than that. All my attempts to get him to listen to me were futile, he just kept chanting the same words in the most disdainful manner. 

Running out of options, I took a hold of both of his arms, but that just made it worse. He swung his silver hair incessantly in my face. A few strands got into my right eye and it began to sting. Still drunk and a little pissed at the little squirming figure in front of me, I placed a hand on his back and pressed his less muscular figure against mine. my fingers grazed the waistband of his underwear and I felt myself slowly get aroused. 

That still did not get him to shut up so I used my last trump card. I titled his head up so he could look right up at me and I stole a kiss from him. For the first few seconds, it felt right as he slowly calmed and steadied under me. However, about ten seconds later, he pushed me off him and the scowl on his face made me regret letting this linger up till now. 

I felt like a total idiot, and at that point, even I hated myself just as much as I could tell he hated me. I asked for permission to speak one more time but he remained silent, probably still dazed by the kiss, but his scornful stare was prominent. 

Taking a breather, I opened my mouth and poured everything out to him. It wasn't a guarantee that he would just take me back but it was worth a shot. It was my only shot. 

* * *

AN: Okay, I know I promised that I was going to update back to back, I'm trying to. And yes, this book really is completed, but proofreading and editing has been a challenge for me. I'm not sure why, but I'm almost done editing the last chapters, so I just might post all eight of them at once after this. Look out for that!

Thoughts on Khalid's POV? Do you forgive him or do you still hate him? Does he still have to redeem himself? I would really love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, so leave a comment and feel free to start a conversation if you like.

If you enjoyed this chapter please leave a vote to support the book!

Till next time, Gemstones.
Love, DrillBurger.