under the blankets;

He’s all curled up in a ball under the blankets, as he secures the pillow in his arms, and then he watches the rain; how it attempts to wash out the mist of the window, and how it makes his body welcome sleep with an adorable yawn. The rain trickles down, and tiny echoes of raindrops on the ground resonating in the room that lulls him more to sleep.

He peers outside, vision looking past the window; the dripping of millions of raindrops never stops, nor has the plan to do so, but it gives him the feeling of contentment and comfort under the thickness of those warm sheets that keeps him away from the icy cold weather.

The feeling of satisfaction drifts him to another series of thoughts; about his life, how he lives, thoughts that are all about him, and his man.

He thinks about the old times, when they’re still in high school – and apparently the best of friends – none of a day shared without a naughty smile, or a hilarious prank pulled up on one of their friends; when they were still bony, and dressed with oversized cotton clothes with a cap on their heads. Those were the light days, when they can’t think of anything aside from fun and being these airheads everyone will love.

He reminisces college, when they thought they were about to separate once high school ended and they still think that they can’t manage to go on a day without each other; all those swollen eyes, damped faces, clogged noses, tears falling like the famous Niagara – they were all worth it after all (and kind of something to laugh at) once they saw each other outside their houses on the first day, going on the same path to their designated universities which turns out to be just both the same. College was all about the confusions and denials, and the fearing of rejection merged with acceptance and drunken love fantasies.

The rain continues just as how he keeps on recalling the small arguments, how their insecurities used to swallow their soul that almost lead to something not good, the cold nights and bloodshot eyes. But then, after all, there are those sheepish smiles, the fluttering butterflies, the stares of affection and chaste kisses, the lingering and burning touches, the attachment he has with his beloved.

And he thinks that maybe, those are just a couple of those million reasons why he should hold on and stay on pushing his love for the man he declares as his, somewhere deeper in his heart.

“Do you also think about us?” He snuggles more on the blanket and asks with the small puffs of wind sweeping his whisper away.

Silence is all he’ll ever get, but then there are those warm arms wrapping tighter on his waist and he knows that his man’s words are somewhere between ‘I do, too.’