✨💖Milo Manheim💖✨

It had been a couple of weeks since that first night.

Everything was great, You and Wally had been practically inseparable outside of school since then. He was always at your house after football practice, which you had started staying late at school to watch.

His mom had even invited you over for dinner a few times, the first of which, he had sat across the table from you, utterly mortified as his mother showed you a photo album full of all of his childhood pictures.

On Saturdays, it had become your routine to have him pick you up in the morning, you would go to the diner for breakfast, then go see a movie, then the arcade.

You’d never in your life admit it, but you were so anxious about being with him all the time.

It was a battle that you’d been fighting with yourself for years, and for some reason, being with Wally made it so much worse.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being around him, quite the opposite, actually, you looked forward to seeing him all day every day, to an extent that could be considered mildly concerning, it was just your own brain that got in the way of things.

Your mom had taken to calling your anxious thoughts your “ghosts”. Something about taking a step back and seeing your anxiety as a separate entity from yourself being beneficial. You didn’t really get it, but you had adopted the way of thinking anyway, if nothing else because you were hoping it would help.

It didn’t, but it stuck with you.

Your ghosts followed you everywhere, but they seemed to get much more active when Wally was around.

You weren’t quite sure why. Maybe it was because despite weeks of stolen kisses and wearing his jacket to school and his hand in your back pocket as he walked with you between classes, he still had yet to introduce you to a single one of his friends. Maybe it was because even though he complimented you every day, you still felt as if you fell short of what someone like him would want in a relationship. Maybe it was just because he was so painfully beautiful that your brain short-circuited every time he came around.

He had noticed a few times when all got to be too much and he always tried his best to comfort you.

He’d noticed a few of your dead giveaways. The way that your leg would bounce and wouldn’t stop and so he’d rest a hand on your knee and trace circles on your skin. He’d seen you absentmindedly scratch at the skin just under your collarbones and so he’d take your hand in his, place a kiss there and give your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping your entwined fingers to his side.

He knew your ghosts well even if you never talked about them.

Your usual weekend plans with Wally had been altered this weekend, which neither of you had been particularly happy about. The arcade was closed and there weren’t any movies that either of you were terribly interested in seeing, so the two of you had opted for a full movie day at your house, for which you both picked 2 movies.

He had picked Raging Bull and Rudy, which the two of you had watched together probably more than 10 times, but it was his favorite and you knew it made him happy so you let it slide.

You, on the other hand, had recently discovered that he had never seen a Jim Henson film. So you had picked The Dark Crystal and The labyrinth. (A/N: before y'all come at me, I know that movie was released in 1986 but I literally do not care, you can pry that film from my cold, dead hands)

He had showed up a bit earlier than you expected him to, movies, your favorite snacks and some coffee in hand. You smile, happy to see him and sit up in your bed, still in your pajamas, but neither of you cared much.

Wally slips his shoes off and takes his place next to you, leaning against your headboard as he hands you your half of the snacks and lays out the movies in front of you.

“What do you want to watch first? I’ve made you suffer through Rudy enough so we can save that one for last if you want.” He smiles as he talks.

“The Labyrinth first for sure. David Bowie’s in that one so I think if nothing else you’ll like the soundtrack.” You chuckle, not really expecting him to be into the fantasy movies that you’d picked but happy he was going along with it anyways.

He smiles wider “I was kinda hoping you’d pick that one, I’ve heard it's actually pretty good.”

You nod enthusiastically, “It’s fantastic.” He smiles, grabbing the movie and kissing your cheek before putting the VHS into the player and grabbing the remote from next to the TV.

It was times like this that you were so glad to have a TV in your room. As much as you loved your mom, you didn’t particularly want her around all day when Wally was here.

•~•~•~•

The day went by fast, though you only actually paid attention to three out of the four movies, Rudy being the last on your list and the two of you having watched it together so many times meant that it inevitably turned into background noise.

It wasn’t even 15 minutes into the movie by the time you ended up half naked and straddling him as he kissed your neck, coaxing the tiniest of moans from between your lips.

You were more than a little pissed off with the fact that you hadn’t been able to force your brain into shutting up. Even with his hands resting on your hips and his lips all over your neck, you couldn’t help but feel self conscious.

There was always that voice in your head.

The one that screamed about how your shoulders were hunched in a way that made you look like a boy.

Or how when you leaned down to kiss him your torso bent in a way that gave you tummy rolls.

You can feel your palms start to get sweaty and your breathing pick up as you notice every little flaw and insecurity that you’ve ever had.

Wally’s hands move up your waist and around your back to pull you closer. Your lips move against his, your mouth opening slightly to let his tongue slip past your lips.

You feel his hands slide down your lower back and spread out across your ass, coming to a stop at your thighs.

Your mind screams about how he must be able to feel how much thicker your thighs are than the other girls he’s dated.

Every single horrible thought you’ve had about yourself surfaces all at once in that moment and it’s all you can do to force yourself to ignore it, push through, and keep going.

The alternative is asking to stop and having to explain to him that you hate yourself and can’t understand why he’d ever want to look at you in this way let alone touch you. The thought of that alone is enough to make you a little nauseous.

Before you can even notice how glaringly obvious your borderline panic attack is becoming, Wally pulls away and his hands are gently resting on the sides of your face.

His brow is furrowed in concern as his eyes frantically scan your face. He swipes a thumb across your cheek and you realize that he’s wiping a stray tear you hadn’t even realized was falling.

You sigh heavily and move from his lap to the other side of the bed resting your back against the headboard. You put your head in your hands and manage to squeak out an “I’m sorry”

Wally doesn’t say anything. Just leans over and grabs his shirt, gently pulling it over your head and pulling you into his chest, tracing soothing circles on the bare skin of your arms.

You sit like that for a while until he finally speaks. “I’m not upset with you.” He pauses for a moment. “You don’t talk about it, but I’ve noticed the way you feel about your body. I see the way you scratch at your chest until it’s pink on days when you hardly let me touch you.”

You sigh, leaning your head back against the headboard and looking up at the ceiling. “It’s” you sigh again. “It’s not anything you’re doing, I just…” you pause, trying desperately to find the words. “Sometimes I look at the other girls you’ve dated and then I look at myself and I just…” you shrug and look down at yourself.

You’re honestly ashamed, saying it out loud. The two of you had spent almost every day together for 3 weeks now. You were inseparable and Wally adored you.

“Baby…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“I know it’s stupid, but I’ve tried everything and I can’t help it.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’ve always been like this. I wish I wasn’t but it’s just the way things are.”

Wally nods, he looks a little confused but seems like he’s trying his hardest to understand.

“I know it’s not gonna help much,” He kisses you on the forehead and keeps his form leaned into you as he speaks. “But, none of those girls have anything on you, baby.”

You roll your eyes, not really believing him, but he keeps talking.

“You’re smart and kind and funny and you don’t give a shit about being with me for popularity.” He chuckles. “You’re fucking goregous, yeah. It’s more than that though. I’ve never been with someone like you. And that makes you so much better than any of the other girls I’ve dated. At least in my eyes.”

You don’t say anything. You just nod and lean in closer to his chest, breathing deeply, calming yourself as much as you can.

You can’t help but think about the concept of your relationship with Wally getting serious. You catch yourself hoping that maybe this will last past your typical high school sweethearts.

You hadn’t realized until now, but you’d been slowly falling for Wally for months now. Since the two of you started hanging out, really.

God knows you’re not willing to say it out loud, but the way he took the parts of you that you hated the most and made you feel okay about them brought you to the realization that after 17 years of being an absolute nobody, you had fallen in love with someone.

Or at least you hoped that's what this was.