Chapter 3: 
(A/N: I'm writing this while listening to my playlist of almost all SHINee songs and walking to school. Sorry I haven't updated in forever, as you can see, because of exams this is the only time I can actually write! While walking to school. I'm literally risking getting run over because I think you guys deserve an update after waiting so long. Anyway, enough rambling...) 

I took a minute to steady my breathing, I was still quite breathless from his lustful .. Wait was it a lust filled or a passionate kiss? Well he said he's liked me for some time, I suppose that would mean it was passionate but... I could feel the lust, see it burning behind his eyes. He was staring at me, I wondered for how long so I decided to open my mouth and spit something out, whatever was there.. 
My response left him confused. 

"I like you too but... I'm inexperienced...." I breathed out sitting stock still, staring across the small room, focusing my gaze upon a cherry blossom tree just outside his window. Anything to keep from looking him directly in the eye while I attempted to calm my erratically beating heart. I then turned to him suddenly with all the confidence I could rouse awake and spit out forcefully "and I can't believe you think so little of me to just pounce on me! I mean do I look like I give it up for the first guy that smiles at me? And to think we are supposed to be Bestfriends! I mean you could have confessed or given me chocolates or a letter or better yet shyly announced your love for me in the cheesiest way known to man: a love song on the radio dedicated to me or some ! I mean MY GOD HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN A SINGLE DRAMA IN YOUR LIFE?" My blood was boiling now, all that is going through my head is how rude he is and now I'm starting to see red and I think I might just punch him. "No, don't answer that I know you have but is that really how low you think of me!?" I shouted the last part as my rage slowly crept up my neck colouring me an impressive shade or crimson. 

After my little outburst I instantly regretted it because the look on my best friend's face was that of deep remorse and sadness. In a quite, barely audible voice, with tears threatening to spill, the blonde male asked "Why are you shouting at me?" Then the soft sobbing began and my heart ached.
The reaction wasn't even delayed. Even in the current situation, I was there for him, like I'd always been. We both knew the others emotional state, I came from a strict home that didn't help me form great emotional stability and him from a broken home where his unstable mother was the only parental figure he had in his life. That does something to a child. 
I instantly fell to my knees in front of him, his hair back with one of my hands and holding both of his in my other, cooing out my words at the boy who had his chin buried in his chest to avoid looking at me.
"Aw, baby, honey, darling no, don't cry. I'm sorry, no. I didn't mean to shout at you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" it took a few minutes but Key hesitantly lifted his head, sniffling slightly. 
"lets just talk about this in the morning, my head still hurts and I'm tired." 
"Alright sweetie. I'll talk to you in the morning..." reluctantly and incredibly slowly I got off the floor and to my feet, still staring down at the trembling boy. I thought I'd never get to see the vulnerable side of Key very often. The side that's not all confidence and self-assurance. But since we'd become closer, practically the only loving family each other had; we'd learned what made the other really vulnerable. And this time I really felt at loss on how to comfort him.  On a level of my subconscious I knew why I'd upset him. Key had distanced him self from everyone, women more so than anyone. People at Holt even suspected he was gay but the rumours never got too serious, Key was too much of a smooth talker for that. Joking and flirting with some guys then turning in mock disgust that made everyone burst out laughing. I was the only person that knew who he was behind closed doors even remotely, his mother wasn't much of a talker, wasn't much of a listener either. After Key's father left she became a recluse, in a vegetive state of living that tore her son apart. It was emotional neglect but not physical. No, Key's mother only stayed sane enough to look after her 10 year old son back then in an attempt to convince herself she didn't blame her little boy for his father leaving, for the whispered chants of "I can do this" and "I can't remain in this family" when her love distanced himself and eventually disappeared forever. One night my best friend even told me how he had taped a picture of his father to a chair he had in his room and how he'd talk to it as if his father were still with them. He'd ask about advice he knew only a father could give like how to throw a punch and how to impress a girl. He imagined that they'd talk, that it was a two way conversation and not what it was in reality. A heart breaking scene of a boy on the verge of being damaged for the rest of his life. A scene that had me crying silently next to him in sadness and sympathy, feeling cold and empty and lifeless. Maybe,that night while we were talking, that's why Key made us sit with our backs to the radiator below his window huddled together for enough heat but with a cool breeze to calm our blushed cheeks. That's the thing about sadness it leaves you feeling cold and heavy as if your bones had been filled with led and ice water ran through your veins. 
That chair, those conversations he'd had with his father that... damaged him but also helped him cope with life in a way. He became a conversationalist, those ones who you don't have to try so hard to engage, they help steer topics of discussion and they come off as amicable people because they are but also because they don't want you to see any other side of them. They prefer to stay hidden. I could say that about myself as well an that's why I'd recognised something of myself in him. 

And I knew why I upset him, I was becoming just another female in his life who had hurt him, had shouted at him and blamed him for his probably senseless or harmless actions. I wasn't going to do that to him, let him think of me that way. I didn't want to hurt him.

As I turned to leave a hand caught my wrist and I looked back to find key gazing up at me with glistening wet eyes that wordlessly said 'don't go' and I understood. I gently sat next to him on the bed, shouldered out of my jacket and threw it somewhere on the floor. I toed off my shoes and key did the same, the he pulled me down and threw the covers over us. Hugging my back and burying his head in my neck.

I was suddenly reminded of the sonnet that I had most recently learned to recite. The literal meaning of the words were quite relevant, I knew the boy laying next to me had a certain distaste for analysing poems, so as I allowed Key to hold me tight and pressed his chest to my back, I recited the sonnet in hopes that he'd take the words at face value. 

He hummed as I began "Thine eyes I love and they as pitying me" tightening his arm around my waist.
"Knowing thy heart torments me with despair 
have put on black as loving mourners be 
looking with pretty ruth upon my pain" 
I felt his finger tips trailing my arm in an languid manner "And truly not the morning sun of heaven better becomes the grey cheeks of the East 
nor that full start that ushers in evening 
doth half that glory to the sober West" I felt his breathing slow and his heart beat that I felt on my back reduced its pace too.
"As those two mourning eyes become thy face 
o'let it then as well beseem thy heart to mourn for me
since mourning doth thee grace and suit thy pity like in every part 
Then will I swear beauty herself is black and all thy foul that thy complexion lack" 

I shifted to settle a little more comfortably to fall asleep beside him when I felt him shake as if he was having a horizontal tantrum. Then I felt the guttural groan from deep within his chest. His means of communication was a series of non verbal utterances of which I had to decode. This particular sound meant 'repeat'. 
So I turned to face him, his grip on my waist only momentarily lessening, and I began the poem again as I let my finger tips lightly draw invisible designs on his neck.

"Thine eyes I love and they as pitying me..." until eventually I fell into a deep sleep too.

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oh, the angst hit this chapter hard. I really want to more for this fic. Feedback would really help.