Page 10

Liam

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 25TH

Liam looked up at the sound of soft snoring coming from the bed next to him. He pushed his glasses up his nose, squinting away from the harsh light of the laptop.

Jonah had fallen asleep reading. His most recent borrowed book was propped open against his chest, his head tilted back against the headboard. Liam didn’t dare put a name to the feeling in his chest at the sight of him, warm and comfortable enough to sleep in Liam’s borrowed sweatshirt, when, only recently, it had been a challenge to convince Jonah to fall asleep in his presence at all.

Some selfish part of him thought, or maybe just hoped, that it was a sign of trust. That Jonah finally felt safe with him. Whatever the reason, Liam was glad for it.

He reached over and flicked off the small light that hung over Jonah’s bed, watching the darkness fall over his sleeping face. Then he adjusted his laptop back into position on his legs, ready to buckle down again and crank out the rest of his English Lit paper, but he found his eyes pulling almost magnetically back across the room.

After a moment of deliberation, Liam set his computer off to the side, his knees and ankles cracking as he unfolded them. Carefully, quietly, he crossed the gap between the beds, hesitating before gently pulling the book away from his chest. Slender fingers that just barely poked out of the sleeves of the sweatshirt fell lightly against his chest. Liam dog-eared the page he’d left off on, setting the book on the nightstand.

He considered him for a moment, standing back with his hands on his hips. Jonah’s lips were parted just enough for a light whistle to escape with each steady exhale, the muscles in his face completely at ease for what had to have been the first time since Liam met him.

There wasn’t much he could do to adjust his position without risking waking him, no matter how stiff his posture looked propped against the headboard, but he could try to make him as comfortable as possible. Watching for any signs of stirring, Liam pulled the edge of the thick white comforter up as far as it would go, laying it gently over the place where Jonah’s fingers rested against his sternum. Liam’s hands lingered for just an extra moment before he pulled back.

He crawled back into his own bed and propped the laptop back onto his knees, checking the word count at the bottom of the window. He was still a thousand words short on his essay, and he could feel his eyelids drooping, but there was something else pulling at him .

Between the burnout of work and school, it had been months since Liam felt inspired enough to start a new project. But something about that moment—about watching Jonah sleep in the half-light of the room—lit a spark.

Liam closed his laptop and tossed it aside, reaching instead for the sketchpad in his backpack. Grabbing the first pencil he could find, Liam began to draw.