"My hair has gotten longer." He said, running a hand through the chocolate-colored locks, his eyes piercing straight at the mirror.
was it weird... that he didn't seem to mind it?
Nah, 'course not, lots of dudes had longer hair. It wasn't even that long, really. It was just enough to be put into a mini ponytail, while the rest laid on the back on his neck, touching his shoulders.
why was it sending a flutter into his chest?
Because it looked good on him. It.. suited him. That's all.
Now that his hair was longer, people would sometimes refer to him as a girl.
"Miss?" They would say. But, the moment he turned around, they immediately corrected themselves. Which wasn't a bad thing, obviously it wasn't a bad thing. He was a boy afterall.
so how come he felt that flutter in his chest yet again, that swiftly went away the instant they realized what he really was?
Ralph didn't hate being a boy. ... Most days, that is. Sometimes he hated being anything, really. He would rather wear that red hoodie he’s been wearing since he was a child, and just be refered to as nothing at all.
“How did you know?” Ralph asked suddenly, gazing out ahead.
Henry looked over at Ralph, his eyes squinting softly at the boy sat next to him, “Know what?”
Ralph looked down at the ground, as his hands gravitated together, starting to fidget. “Well… you know…”
Henry leaned closer into the other, a teasing yet light-hearted smirk on his face, “I can’t know unless you tell me, dude.”
Ralph flinched slightly, his breath shaky as he tried to organized his thoughts. “I- How did you know you were a boy?” He mutterd out, his eyes averting away.
Henry leaned away at that sudden question, his hands holding tightly to the grass underneath him. He looked up at the sky, and then back at Ralph, seeing his eyes closed by now, arms crossed his chest. “I just knew. Probably since I gained consiousness. It felt wrong to ever be a girl.”
After saying that, he tilted his head, trying to think of a reason as to why Ralph would even ask such a thing. But, of course, he would never know without asking him. So, he did. "Why are you asking anyways?"
The boy beside him tensed up at that question, his hands also moving towards the grass to ground him, at least somewhat. "I-" He started, shutting his mouth, than opening it again countless times. "No reason." He then mumbled softly.
Right after saying that, Henry started snickering, before stopping himself right afterwards, "When somebody asks that, it's never for 'no reason'," He said while making air quotes. His hand slowly approched the other's, looking at him with all the pure understanding he could muster up, "You can tell me, I won't judge."
