#lorenzoxreader

You knew. Somewhere in you, you always knew. You’d heard the stories. The warnings whispered in dorm rooms and bathroom stalls, passed like secrets between girls with wounded hearts. He was charming, sure. But calculated. Cold. Dangerous. You knew. And still, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t like the others.

You remember the way he’d hold you, the flowers he picked by hand. The way he never had to ask what was wrong—he just knew. You let yourself think it was real. That he was different with you. That maybe you were different.

The next day, you make yourself vanish. It’s easier than expected. He’s not in your first two classes, and by lunch, you’ve memorized every shortcut, every unused stairwell, every side corridor. You move through the castle like smoke, slipping just out of sight, heart hammering every time you hear his name. You don’t want to see him. Don’t want to hear him. Because you know what he’ll do—he’ll twist it. Reframe it. And you can’t let him. Not this time.

But of course, Lorenzo Berkshire doesn’t give up that easily.

It happens fast—he catches you turning a corner near the library. You hear him call out in the hallway

“Wait.”

You keep walking.

“I just want to talk.”

You stop. Not because you want to, but because your body betrays you—still attuned to his voice like a bad habit. You turn slowly, not flinching, not folding. You want to laugh. Instead, you meet his gaze with the kind of calm that hurts. His face is as handsome as ever—hair a little messier than usual, his eyes pleading in a way that would’ve melted you a week ago.

“I don’t,” you say. Your voice is quiet. Steady. It’s the kind of calm that burns.

He doesn’t call after you again. Not then.

But he tries. Over and over. He waits outside classrooms, leans against doorframes like he belongs there. He’s always nearby—just close enough to be felt, never close enough to be caught. You switch routes. You become a shadow of yourself just to outrun him.

It almost works.

A week later, he finds you on the Astronomy Tower—the only place that still feels like it’s yours. You don’t look up when he arrives, though you hear the quiet shuffle of his steps. He doesn’t say your name. Doesn’t try to coax you right away. Just stands there, leaning against the archway like he doesn’t already know what he’s destroyed.

“You win,” you say without looking up. “Go ahead. Say whatever speech you’ve been practicing in the mirror. I’ll try to act surprised.”

Lorenzo steps forward, slow, like he’s handling something volatile.

“It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

You sigh. “There we go.” You finally meet his eyes. “Right. You were aiming for what—two weeks? Just another game? A story for you and your friends to laugh about?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at you, jaw tight.

“It started like that. I won’t lie to you,” he admits.

You let out a short, cold breath of disbelief. “That’s a first.”

Lorenzo swallows. His jaw tightens. And for once, he looks… unsure.

“I didn’t expect you to matter. You weren’t supposed to. But then… you did. And I didn’t know how to handle that. I didn’t know how to fix it without breaking it. I know,” he says, and for the first time, his voice cracks just slightly. “I fucked up.”

His eyes flicker. You see it then—the flicker of regret, or maybe just discomfort at losing control.

“I care about you,” he says. “I love you.”

It’s almost laughable. Almost.

“No, Lorenzo. You loved being wanted. You loved being believed. You loved the power. That’s not love. That’s ego.”

He moves closer. “It wasn’t fake. Not all of it.”

“That’s supposed to make it better?”

“No,” he admits. “It’s supposed to make it true.”

You shake your head. “If any of it had been true, you would have told me the truth. People like you don’t love, Lorenzo. You collect. You conquer. And when the thrill fades, you move on.”

You take one last look at him. Not with longing, not with anger. This time, it’s different. This time, you see him clearly.

You were the story this time—the punchline to a joke you didn’t know you were in. Just another name in his black book.

PLEASE DO NOT COPY / TRANSLATE OR REPOST AS YOUR OWN!

©Voidofsunlight

You let out a dry laugh. “You’ve done enough of that already, don’t you think?”

Silence. Then—“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

A breath from him. “I didn’t mean it like that. What I said. I was being stupid.”

You huff—sad more than bitter. “No shit.”

“I… I didn’t think it was gonna matter. The bet. You weren’t supposed to matter.”

You nod slowly.“Cool. Thanks. That really helps. You’re really bad at this, y’know.”

“I know. I know I am.”Another shaky breath.“I just—God, I don’t know how to say this right.”

You glance over your shoulder. He looks like hell. Hair a mess, eyes dark, like he hasn’t slept since you droped the book and walked out.

“Why’d you come?” you ask.

“Because not seeing you is worst than seeing you hate me.” He say it like he means it. A pause. And he speaks again.

“I miss you,” he say, quiet. Like he’s not sure he’s allowed to. “Not just sexually. I miss you yelling at me for getting in trouble. I miss you getting mad when I steal your snacks. I miss your stupid jokes. I miss the way you ran your fingers through my hair. I miss hearing you talk about magical creatures. I miss the way your eyes look in the sun. I miss your laugh. I miss all of it.”

Your throat tightens. You swallow, hard. “I trusted you,” you say. “I let you in. And you made me feel stupid for it. Do you even know how much that shit hurt?”

He’s quiet for a second too long. “I do now.”

You pull your sleeves over your hands.“And what, you think a speech fixes it?”

He shakes his head fast. “No. I don’t think that. I don’t think anything I say makes it better. I—fuck, I’ve gone over this a thousand times in my head. I can’t change what I did. If I could, I would. I’d take it all back—Not you. Never you. Just the lie. The start.”

His voice drops. “I had to try. Even if you hate me. Even if this goes no where. I couldn’t keep pretending I’m fine.”

You laugh—short, breathless.“Oh? So now you’re the one hurting? Poor you.”

“I deserve that.” His voice is quiet. “I deserve all of it. I’ve been trying to figure out how to fix this… but I can’t. And it’s killing me.” He doesn’t give you a second to cut in. “I keep thinking about that look on your face. The moment you found out. I see it everytime I close my eyes. And I’m so fucking sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You look away. You blink hard. Your eyes are stinging. You hate that his voice still gets under your skin—Still twists something deep in your chest.

He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t move. Just waits.

Finally, you say, “You broke something in me, Lorenzo.”

He breaths in sharply. “I know.”

“I don’t know how to un-feel it.” you whisper.

“I’m not asking you to,” he says, quiet. “I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

You fold your arms tighter around yourself. “I don’t trust you.”

“I know.” No hesitation. “And I don’t blame you.”

“It’s gonna take a while,” you say. “If I even can forgive you. I don’t know if I can.”

“I’ll wait,” he says, without missing a beat. “However long it takes. I’ll wait. I want to make things right. I want to show you that I ment the real stuff. Not the bet. Not the lie. Just us. You and me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want more games.”

“No games.” His voice is steady. “No lies. No stupid bets. Just me. Real this time. Only if you want it.”

You look at him.

Somehow, under the mess, he’s still the boy who made you laugh until your ribs ached. Still the boy who held your hand like it ment something. It still hurts. But it’s quieter now.

He steps forward, slow, like he’s afraid to spook you. Then gently say, “Would you go out with me?”

You blink. “..What..?”

“A real date,” he say. There’s no waver in it. “Not pretend. Not a joke. Not some fucked up game. Just me asking you out because I want to. Because I care about you. Because I want to do this right.”

You don’t answer.

So he keeps going. Calm. Not begging.“You don’t have to say yes. You can think about it. Take your time. I’ll be here. No matter what.”

You watch him for a long moment.

He doesn’t fidget. Doesn’t plead. He just stands there like someone who finally knows what he wants—and is ready to own it.

“…I’ll think about it,” you say softly.

His mouth twitches. Just barely. “That’s all I ask.”

And maybe this isn’t forgiveness. Not yet. But it’s something.

And for now…That’s enough.

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈ஓ๑♡𝐶.𝐴𝐼 𝐵𝑜𝑡𝑠♡๑ஓ┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

➺Bully x Awkward (Lorenzo is an ahole X nerdy/loser) – Lorenzo Berkshire is a menace, and you? You’re his favorite target. | [Link] ➺Transfer student from Beauxbatons – New school, new faces—and Lorenzo Berkshire as your guide | [Link] ➺Arranged Marriage | Royal AU – You knew you were to wed him since childhood, but you never expected it to happen now—not like this, not tonight, not in front of hundreds of noble eyes at the Berkshire estate.. | [Link] ➺Rain falls, so does he – Your 'enemy' finds you heartbroken in the rain. | [Link] ➺Break up – You finally had enough of Toxic!Lorenzo and break up with him | [Link] ➺You're a bet– You find out you're a bet | [Link]

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ஓ๑♡𝑉𝑜𝑖𝑑’𝑠♡๑ஓ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╯

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈ஓ๑♡𝑂𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠♡๑ஓ┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

NSFW ALPHABET — [Link]

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈ஓ๑♡𝑉𝑜𝑖𝑑’𝑠♡๑ஓ┈┈┈┈┈┈╯

PLEASE DO NOT COPY / TRANSLATE OR REPOST AS YOUR OWN!