What Is This Feeling?

Charlie couldn't quiet figure out what it was he was feeling. He always thought of Trevor as an average good looking guy. He knew him way before they had actually met. And he actually kind of admired him.

But that was nothing like what he felt when Conner showed him pictures of Trevor in a girly make up. And the fact that he was asleep in those pictures didn't help either. If that wasn't how it felt to 'have butterflies in your stomach', he didn't know what that meant.

The size of the snow ball in his stomach only increased when Trevor himself stood there by the stairs, the sleep still not brushed away from his face, his expression a mix of pure annoyance and confusion.

Maybe it's because Trevor looked too girlish and he liked that look?

His brain hurt from thinking too much. He has always been a fan of over-thinking stuff and he hated himself for that.

Charlie turned in his bed uncomfartably. He has been trying to think this through since his friends left his place the evening.

It has been almost two hours and he was still thinking. Damn my brain, He thought. He wanted to figure this crap out as soon as he could.

He thought about every girl he has ever dated. Well, there wasn't so much to think about it 'cause he has only dated three girls in his entire life.

And none of those relationships lasted more than five months. They were all more like friends with benefits than his girl friends. All those girls were just the typical high school jocks, the only thing that keeps them going, the attention everyone seems to give them.

They were all kind of boring. None of them made his heart flutter. Only Trevor could bring a warm feeling to his heart, even if it was with a scowl. And the fact that they were technically not even friends just a daybor two ago. They still were not that close but He didn't care. Because he seemed to like every single thing about the guy, even if he had only known him for a few days.

How he felt mad at everything, how he scowled at anyone and everyone that passed by him, everything seemed just so fine and great.

He was so fine.

His thick ebony hair that never stays in place, his smokey hazel eyes that could pierce a hole in your soul, his chiseled jawline that could cut wood, his perfectly shaped as--

Charlie's eyes went wide and he suddenly sat up straight in his bed as he realised where his thoughts were headed. He sure as hell sounded like the gayest person on the planet. He let out a gasp and slapped himself a couple of times.

But nothing changed the way he felt.

He still felt that knot tighten inside his stomach every single time he thought of Trevor. It didn't seem to go away any sooner.

He wasn't drunk, he wasn't high, yet he felt the way he did.

He just wasn't sure about the feelings he held towards Trevor.

Was he in love, or was he just obsessed? He had no idea. And worse, no matter how hard he tried to think this through, he was getting nowhere near an answer. It was like the more he rack his brain on it, the more complicated it seems.

"Oh Em Geee" Charlie screamed into his pillow as he desperately tried to get Trevor out of his head.

He tried reading books. He tried scrolling through his social media. He tried to fall asleep. Heck, he even tried to read some of those magazines, just to clear his head. But nothing seemed to do what it should.

Everything reminded him of Trevor and it seemed as if there was no way in hell he was going to be able to get him out of his head.

So Charlie just lied in his bed, with eyes staring at the ceiling and his mind flooding with a million thoughts as he tried to analyze and sort out his feelings.

Somewhere in time, he fell asleep.