characters: fieo & lysander, emma.
word count: 830
other: lysander is a meanie.
lysander sat on a couch a metre away from me max. a girl sat in his lap— her names emma and she's gorgeous and funny and popular and wealthy. but most of all she's a girl, something i'm not. and i so desperately wish things were different and that i wasn't sitting on the floor of matteo's shitty house leaning in a couch with a weird stain on it wishing i was emma instead of fieo. they made out, he pulled her onto his lap in a delicate way that made my eyes water. he reached out a hand and dug it into my hair, intertwining it in my curls and pulling lightly. my heart feels like a rubber band that's been stretched thin, like the rubber of a racing car that's getting worn away against the hot pavement. i wanted to die and to stay where i was and to leave and never see him again.

hot tears graced my cheeks burning paths of shame into my skin. i got up as his hand returned to her chest and stomp out. i slam the door behind me and feel childish as i look into the mirror. how could i have fallen for the rouse that lysander westfall would like me back? how was i so foolish? so stupid? humiliation boiled in the depths of my stomach and anger clutches at my throat coaxing for me to scream. why was he so cruel? what happened for me to deserve this? it was a sick joke— a straight boy craving to explore who he really was. as soon as he realised i wouldn't have sex with him he lead me on purposely trying to fuck with me. and then he goes and kissed a girl?

the door was knocked on. i decided if it was lysander i'd punch him square in the nose. fuck him.

it was esper.
it was esper?

"fieo?" he said hesitantly.
i tried to not cry. i failed and leant into him, tears slipping down my face, sobs escaping from my mouth. it hurt. everything hurt.
"i wish i never met him." i whispered.
esper rubs my back whispering stuff and probably wishing he'd never come into the bathroom to retrieve me.

i wanted to die.

but i didn't.
~
lysander westfall was a dickhead. a dickhead who was subsequently shunned from my friendship group leaving it a lot less liked and a lot less whimsical. i was practically guarded disallowing any conversation between lysander and i. i was grieving in an odd way. i missed him in an odd way that left men hollow and full of painful regret.

but i could tell he was desperate. desperate to spit in my face, desperate to punch me for leaving him, desperate for the validation of having someone hopelessly in love with him. because for the first time— lysander wasn't liked he wasn't loveable and boyish. he was mean, cruel and villainous.

but he tried, craving whatever we once had had. at school, at church, anywhere i went he tried to talk again. i ignored him attempting to not surrender.

he came to my house and threw rocks at my windows calling my name.
"fieo!" i look out the window and squint.
"leave me alone, lysander." i yelled back.
he threw a rock, "i just want to talk."
i shook my head, "you don't get that lysander. i have my peace now."
i swallowed and pulled on a sweater and pulled on a pair of boots, climbing down the stairs and out the door. i cross my arms, it was cold, fucking cold.
"fieo." he whispered quietly. he stood metres away from me. i didn't know what to do with my hands.
"lysander." i whispered back.
he stepped forward, i didn't move. he reached an arm out to my arm. i flinched away.
"fieo— i'm... i'm sorry. i'm a dickhead."
i nodded, smiling, "you are."
"i just don't know what to do. i'm crazy for you in a way i've never experienced before. and i—i'm not gay. i just don't know what to do with myself because i've never felt this way."
my eyebrows furrowed, "so you... love me?"
lysander shook his head, "i don't know."
i walked forward. "you've fucked with me."
"i know i have." i looked at him closely, the street lights bouncing off his curls and bags under his eyes. he looked cold as his breath was visible in the air. his throat bobbed.
my eyes softened, he was scared, i'd never seen him scared.
i reached out, hand touching his cheek. he touches my sides right above my hips. i cupped his face my breath against his skin and goosebumps forming on my skin. i wanted to grip him and hold him tighter than anything else.

and he stayed. asleep in my bed, curled into my side, entangled in my mind. he didn't deserve forgiveness, his actions doesn't deserve to be forgotten but here i was.