The roomate thing was going amazing.
They cooked. He cleaned. Grocery shopping was on his shoulder because he didn't want them to carry the heavy bags, and they did the laundry, shirts drying together, sleeves touching, like their hands whenever they would watch something on TV while cuddling on the couch.
Just two friends living together.
Sometimes, when the movie night turned longer than expected, their head lolling onto his shoulder or chest, them asleep soundly, he would just lay there, still and quiet, letting them catch some rest. Insomnia was not welcome, not when he could easily remedy it, magic not necessary when he had the power of old comedies playing.
Sometimes, they would study together, stealing glances at their respective notes. He would end up with doodles on the notebook's margins, kitty faces, and hearts with cupid's arrows going through the middle. They would often find a note between the pages, a reminder to smile or drink some water, or text him back. Simple things friends did for each other.
They were best friends. They were content with that. He, was content with that.
So why was his hand shaking when he opened the door late at night, groggy and in his pyjama pants, looking at his best friend who had smudged glitter on their face, slightly tangled hair and few bruises on their neck that looked like hickeys?
"Sorry, I forgot my keys." he let them in, lockign the door as they stepped inside, wobbly on legs that danced for too long.
"How was it?" he could see, but the question was more out of being nice rather than the curiosity. Trying his best not to let his voice crack, he scratched at his neck, muffling a yawn.
"Good, actually. Can't believe I didn't want to go." oh he heard all of it, his ear being talked off as they complained.
It's too late. I will have to cancel my shift so I won't have enough cash by the end of the week. Exams are coming, I shouldn't be partying. You weren't invited, are you really sure I should go? Won't that be rude to you?
"There was a happy hour, and hey, there were so many nice people getting me drinks. The bartender was a nice guy too, he complimented my shirt." the one he helped them pick out one shopping spree ago. It matched their style and it looked good indeed. He told them that too, on so many occasions.
"That really sounds great." he couldn't stop eyeing their neck as they slumped down onto the couch, shoes kicked off and legs placed on the arm rest, back popping with a nasty sound.
They were just friends. He had no right to be jealous, even if he wanted to be. The whole world seemed to notice what he saw in them, the pretty eyes, cunning smile and charming face that melted his frustration the moment it turned to him, all flushed and teasing his senses that tingled.
"And there was..." they started waving their hands, pointing at the neck. He would listen to every gossip they would share, talk shit with them for hours. But he wouldn't stand listening to them talking about someone who manages to do that, while he was asleep in his own bed, unaware.
Best friend. He was just their best friend and that had to be enough.
"You can tell me that tomorrow, okay? You sure must be tired." half smile offered, he had to calm himself somehow. Sitting by them, they shifted around, immediately cuddling up to him, arms wrapping around his torso, head back to the spot it rested so perfectly on. Faint smell of booze lingering, masked with their perfume, they almost smelled so divine–
"I wish you could have gone with me." they hummed, voice muffled as they pushed closer, nose pressing against the freshly healed tattoo on his chest.
"Maybe next time." he would love that, actually. There was a new club opening soon, he could take them there. Get some drinks, dance a little, spend some time together that he wanted to have with them.
"Of course. Now, let's get you out of those clothes and into bed." he would take care of everything. Pick them up, carry to the bathroom so they could wash their face and brush their teeth, bring them clean clothes to change into, lay them on the bed and leave a kiss on the forehead for better dreams.
Just as a good boyfriend would do. Right?
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Bestie is sooooo "Carmen" by Lana coded. They are effortlessly gorgeous, always turning heads, making friends so easily and getting drinks just because.
All while Blake stands beside them, cursing at the world for noticing the same things he deemed perfect in them, hands clenching whenever someone got too close to what he wanted to have for himself only.
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