DAMIR
It was strange at first, seeing Eli warm up to me. For the longest time, he'd been distant, keeping to himself, not really letting me in. But after that night, that night when he'd gotten drunk and spilled all those things to me it was like something changed. It wasn't obvious at first. He still maintained his usual demeanor, but there was this subtle shift in how he acted around me. He started sticking around more, following me from room to room, talking about things that weren't important, just to keep the conversation going. And I found myself welcoming it. The silence between us that once existed started to fade.
He wasn't the same Eli I'd first met. He'd grown, not just physically, but emotionally. And for reasons I couldn't fully explain, it drew me in. It was the little things at first the way he would linger by my side a little longer, the way his eyes would stay on me just a little too long before quickly looking away, like he was trying to hide something. His once nonchalant attitude began to shift, and I couldn't ignore the way he seemed to crave my attention more than before.
I noticed it more in how he would fidget whenever I handed him a gift, those damn trendy, flashy things I bought him every time I came over. He wasn't indifferent anymore. No, now he would smile, hold it a little closer, like he appreciated it in a way that went beyond just liking the item. It was like he was trying to get something else from me, something I wasn't sure I was ready to give. But I couldn't figure it out. I told myself it was just Eli being a teenager, looking for approval, looking for affection. He had been through a lot. Maybe he was just reaching out, in whatever way he could.
But damn it, as the days passed, I couldn't deny that there was something there. Something I didn't want to acknowledge.
There was a change in him how he looked at me, how he acted around me. I couldn't ignore it anymore. And what killed me was that, despite how close he seemed to get, I still saw him as my best friend's son. He was still that kid who had been thrust into a world that was too big for him. I was supposed to be there to guide him, to protect him, not to… feel something I shouldn't feel.
But it wasn't just that. It was also the way he started to present himself. His style had shifted. The once boyish, somewhat androgynous appearance had evolved into something more daring, more bold. Eli was becoming even more stunning as he grew. And I hated the way my thoughts began to wander to places they shouldn't go. He was still so young. He was my best friend's son. That line in my mind was a clear one, and I had no intention of crossing it.
But Eli's features… those delicate, feminine features of his, were becoming impossible to ignore. It was as if he was becoming more aware of the effect he had on people, and I could see it in the way he carried himself. The way he dressed now, the way his hair fell around his face, those soft eyes of his that seemed to look right through me it all made my control slip just a little.
He'd started wearing clothes that clung to his body more, shirts that accentuated his slender form. The crop tops, the tight jeans each outfit seemed to highlight every inch of him, and I could feel the pressure building in my chest. I tried to ignore it, tried to remind myself that this was just Eli growing up. But damn it, every time he walked into the room, it was like I had to force myself to look away. The temptation to pay attention to him, to really notice him in a way that I shouldn't, was overwhelming.
And then there were the moments when he would catch my gaze, hold it for just a second longer than normal, his lips curving into that soft smile of his. My stomach would twist in knots. I hated it. I hated how he made me feel like this, like my control was slipping away. I couldn't let him see me like that, couldn't let him know how he was affecting me.
I refused to let myself see him in any other way than my best friend's son. That was the line I had drawn, and I wasn't about to cross it. I didn't care how attractive he was becoming, how his presence seemed to fill up the room. He was still Eli, and he was still far too young.
Even though my body screamed at me to reach out, to pull him closer, I knew better. I would never act on these feelings. Eli was a kid, and I was supposed to be the protector, the one who guided him through this strange world, not the one who wanted to hold him in ways I shouldn't. No matter how much my heart ached when he would look at me, no matter how badly I wanted to pull him closer, I couldn't.
But damn it, every time he came close, every time he brushed past me, I couldn't help but wonder if he knew what he was doing to me. He was getting older, more confident, and his presence was starting to affect me in ways that made me question my own integrity. He would brush against me as if it was nothing, but my body would react as though it was everything. And then he'd pull away, acting like nothing had happened, and I'd feel like a fool for thinking it meant anything.
So, I did my best to keep my distance, to remind myself of the line I had drawn. But Eli was getting harder and harder to ignore. His warmth, his energy, it was like a magnet, pulling me closer, testing my resolve. And I hated it. I hated how much I wanted him, and how much I was terrified of crossing that line.
I was his father's best friend , not his lover. That's how I had to see him, no matter how much it hurt to admit it. I had to keep reminding myself of that. But damn it, the way he was growing, the way he was becoming more and more beautiful with every passing day, made it harder and harder to keep my hands to myself.
And as much as I told myself I would never cross that line, there was a part of me, deep down, that knew I was already too far gone.