Oh. That wasn't creepy or anything.
His neighbor was spying on him. Hanale waded to shore clutching a giant rainbow over-sized inner tube, splashing water noisily with each step. He'd been testing it out before Kylar arrived, in case it sprang an unexpected leak or something. (Definitely, definitely not because he couldn't wait to use it. No.)
A movement in the periphery of his vision caught his attention and he noticed the dark-haired young man who moved in several weeks ago suddenly disappear inside. But earlier he definitely had been leaning over the railing of his upper balcony, looking at Hanale splashing around. This wasn't the first time, either. Once or twice while lounging on the wide front porch, Hanale saw him peeking out. He even waved once but the guy vanished like smoke.
Too bad. He was pretty cute. Probably painfully shy since Hanale had never seen him actually step foot off of his property. Rumor had it he was Spanish-exotic. But! Since he was so horribly shy and Hanale was expecting a special guest, he was out of the picture. Smiling to himself and shaking his head, he dragged the inner tube up onto firm ground so that it wouldn't float off into the lake and headed inside to dry off and change before Kylar arrived.
He went about making himself presentable with low-simmering excitement bubbling inside. It'd been a while since he'd dated and those first-date fluttering butterflies were all over. Hopefully Kylar was as cute and funny and charming as he was over the phone. Hard to tell with people; some were painfully boring over the phone but magnetic in person. Others, the opposite. Rare to find someone interesting in both worlds.
Splashing a conservative amount of cologne on, Hanale examined himself in the full-length bathroom mirror. Hm. Good. Hair was crisp and well-maintained, nails not filthy (important!) and his blue button-up had tiny red polka-dots on it for interest, but not to be flashy. Dark slim-cut jeans and casual Italian loafers completed the look—douchebag lakefront property-owning party boy.
Nah! His friends joked about that but really he wasn't an asshole. He hoped. His parties never got the police called down! Hanale was polite to the neighbors! He had to be good—he was tied to a literal angel! Ah... he was nervous now, and justifying his appearance. Hanale turned on his heels as he heard a car pull up and forced himself to saunter outside, where he waved slowly but grinned in an obviously pleased way to the car rolling up the driveway.
His neighbor was spying on him. Hanale waded to shore clutching a giant rainbow over-sized inner tube, splashing water noisily with each step. He'd been testing it out before Kylar arrived, in case it sprang an unexpected leak or something. (Definitely, definitely not because he couldn't wait to use it. No.)
A movement in the periphery of his vision caught his attention and he noticed the dark-haired young man who moved in several weeks ago suddenly disappear inside. But earlier he definitely had been leaning over the railing of his upper balcony, looking at Hanale splashing around. This wasn't the first time, either. Once or twice while lounging on the wide front porch, Hanale saw him peeking out. He even waved once but the guy vanished like smoke.
Too bad. He was pretty cute. Probably painfully shy since Hanale had never seen him actually step foot off of his property. Rumor had it he was Spanish-exotic. But! Since he was so horribly shy and Hanale was expecting a special guest, he was out of the picture. Smiling to himself and shaking his head, he dragged the inner tube up onto firm ground so that it wouldn't float off into the lake and headed inside to dry off and change before Kylar arrived.
He went about making himself presentable with low-simmering excitement bubbling inside. It'd been a while since he'd dated and those first-date fluttering butterflies were all over. Hopefully Kylar was as cute and funny and charming as he was over the phone. Hard to tell with people; some were painfully boring over the phone but magnetic in person. Others, the opposite. Rare to find someone interesting in both worlds.
Splashing a conservative amount of cologne on, Hanale examined himself in the full-length bathroom mirror. Hm. Good. Hair was crisp and well-maintained, nails not filthy (important!) and his blue button-up had tiny red polka-dots on it for interest, but not to be flashy. Dark slim-cut jeans and casual Italian loafers completed the look—douchebag lakefront property-owning party boy.
Nah! His friends joked about that but really he wasn't an asshole. He hoped. His parties never got the police called down! Hanale was polite to the neighbors! He had to be good—he was tied to a literal angel! Ah... he was nervous now, and justifying his appearance. Hanale turned on his heels as he heard a car pull up and forced himself to saunter outside, where he waved slowly but grinned in an obviously pleased way to the car rolling up the driveway.