#lsu

Splayed out on Bella's bed, she rests her chin on your shoulder, practically lying on top of you while she props the camera up with one hand, holding it so both of you are in view. Lives with Bella are insane, as most anything to do with her (in a good way), but today, you decided to keep it more casual, even with the chat going crazy.

"Yeah, we're dating," She mumbles, answering one of their questions. Comments are rolling by faster than you can even read, but she manages to pick out a few. "No, we don't live together."

You give her a look, scrunching your eyebrows together. "We basically do, though."

She smiles, looking up at you. "You basically live with me,"

"Exactly, so together,"

user983: bella that's still together bro

user102: u transfering???

user031: hey! can you say hi to chloe for me??

Moving your hand, you rub her back, gently stroking while she continues to lie on you.

"Yes, she smells most of the time,"

Pulling your hand back, you softly slap her head, a glare thrown in her direction.

"Hey!-"

"That wasn't even a question!"

She rubs the top of her head before scrolling back through the comments. "No, it was, I swear,"

Rolling your eyes, you just shake your head, smiling. "Sure,"

"Yes, I'm a munch,"

You're absolutely dumbfounded at her remark, and you look towards her with an open mouth. "Bella. This is TMI. You're sharing all our secrets, bro."

that’s when you know you’re not getting her tonight.

the walk to the parking lot is silent. the kind that presses against your ears until you want to scream just to break it. cicadas buzz. someone laughs across the lot. the world keeps functioning like nothing is wrong.

you unlock the car and toss your bag in harder than necessary.

grace slides into the driver’s seat, shuts the door, stares straight ahead. hands on the wheel. breathing measured. controlled.

you wait a beat.

“are you gonna talk to me,” you say, finally.

she exhales through her nose. “can we not do this right now?” your chest tightens. “we’re already doing it.” she starts the engine. “i had a long practice.”

“so did i,” you snap. then softer, because you hate how sharp you sound. “i was there. the whole time.”

that’s when she looks at you. really looks. eyes dark. tired. guarded.

“that’s the problem,” she says. “you’re always there.”

you blink. “what does that even mean?”

“it means i don’t have space,” she says, voice rising despite herself. “i don’t get to mess up without it becoming a thing. i don’t get to be quiet without you asking what’s wrong.”

“because something is always wrong,” you say. “you shut me out like i’m—”

“like you’re what?” she cuts in. you laugh once, sharp and broken. “like i’m optional.”

that does it.

she slams her hand against the steering wheel. “that’s not fair.”

“then tell me why it feels like this,” you say, tears already burning. “tell me why i feel like i’m begging for scraps of you between film sessions and lifts and interviews.”

she shakes her head. “you know what i’m carrying right now.”

“and where am i supposed to fit in?” your voice cracks. “am i just something you come back to when basketball lets you breathe?”

silence. thick. deadly. that’s when you lose it.

you push the door open and get out, the night air hitting you like a wall. you slam the door, spin around, tears spilling freely now.

“say something,” you yell, hands shaking. “say you don’t want me to walk away.” grace gets out too, slower. controlled. like she’s still on the court.

“don’t make this dramatic,” she says.

that hurts worse than anything.

“dramatic?” you laugh through tears. “i’m crying in a parking lot because the person i love won’t fight for me.”

“i am fighting,” she says, voice tight. “just not like this.”

“then how?” you demand. “because from where i’m standing, you’re choosing silence. again.” she doesn’t answer.

you stare at her, waiting. hoping. your heart practically begging her to close the distance, grab your wrist, say don’t go. she doesn’t. her jaw tightens. “i can’t chase you every time things get hard.”

something in you breaks clean.

“i didn’t ask you to chase me,” you whisper. “i asked you to choose me.” she gets back in the car. the door closes softly. final. the engine turns over.

you stand there, frozen, watching her pull away. watching the taillights disappear. watching her not look back.

your legs give out a little once she’s gone.

you start walking. fast at first. like maybe distance will make it hurt less. tears stream freely now, unchecked, your chest aching with every breath.

“i hate this,” you whisper to yourself. “i hate that i love you like this.”

your phone buzzes. one of her teammates. then another. people who know you. who like you. who saw everything.

hey. you okay?

we’re still here.

don’t go home alone.

you stop under a streetlight, shoulders shaking, hands covering your face.

you wish it was grace texting. you wish it was her footsteps behind you. you wish she’d followed you anyway—even just to say goodbye better. but the sidewalk stays empty.

and you keep walking, carrying all the things she didn’t say with you. it doesn’t explode the next day. that’s the strangest part.

nothing dramatic happens. no confrontation. no announcement. just a subtle, unsettling shift—like the air pressure dropped and everyone feels it but no one knows why. you’re still around. that’s what they notice first.

you show up to practice like always, sitting on the same bench near the baseline, coffee gone cold in your hands. you still talk to the girls. still laugh at the right moments. still listen when flau’jae complains about a media obligation running long, or when mikaylah groans about conditioning like it personally wronged her.

but you don’t look at grace. and grace—who always looks for you without meaning to—doesn’t find you where you usually are.

she clocks it during warmups. not consciously. just a flicker of unease when she glances toward the bench and your eyes aren’t already on her. you’re looking at your phone. or the floor. or literally anywhere else.

“you good?” jada asks when grace misses an easy read in a drill. “yeah,” grace says automatically. she isn’t. it’s small things at first.

you don’t bring her water anymore. you don’t linger after practice. you don’t wait by the tunnel like you used to, leaning against the wall while she untapes her wrists.

kate notices when grace comes out of the locker room and pauses, scanning the hallway like she forgot something.

“you lose something?” kate jokes, light, trying to cut the tension. grace shakes her head. “nah.” but her voice sounds wrong.

at lunch, you sit with the team like always—but not next to grace. never next to grace. there’s a space where you used to be, and no one takes it. it’s like an unspoken rule. like everyone knows better.

mikaylah starts telling a story, animated, hands flying. flau’jae laughs loud, leans back in her chair. you smile when you’re supposed to. nod at the right beats.

but grace watches your face instead of listening. the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. she plays harder. everyone notices that.

grace is sharper in drills. louder. more aggressive on defense. she bodies up an extra second longer than necessary, takes contact she doesn’t need to, jaw tight like she’s chewing through something bitter.

“she’s on one today,” flau’jae mutters under her breath, wiping sweat from her forehead.

jada glances toward you without meaning to. then quickly away. “yeah.”

after practice, when most of the team heads toward the locker room, grace stays behind, putting up extra shots. the ball echoes through the gym—steady, angry, relentless.

you don’t wait. that’s new.

the real shift hits at the first home game after. you’re courtside. same seat. same posture. same everything. except grace doesn’t look for you during intros.

mikaylah notices immediately. her eyes flick from grace to you, then back again. “oh,” she murmurs, barely audible. the ball goes up.

grace plays like she’s possessed—locked in, ruthless, unflinching. she hits shots that shouldn’t fall. dives for loose balls like she’s trying to prove something to the floor itself.

but when the buzzer sounds and the crowd roars, she doesn’t smile.

she goes straight to the bench. straight past you. flau’jae’s head turns slowly. grace’s jaw tightens just a little. that’s when it clicks for them.

after the game, the locker room is quieter than usual. not sad—just tense. the music is lower. laughter thinner. someone finally says it, careful, like stepping on glass.

“are y’all…?” mikaylah starts, then stops. no one finishes the sentence.

you don’t either. you just shrug, small. controlled. “we’re good.”across the room, grace freezes.

for half a second—just half—it looks like she might turn around. say something. correct it. pull the truth out of the air and make it less heavy.

she doesn’t.

someone clears their throat. flau’jae turns the music up too loud. conversation stumbles forward without ever finding its footing again.

later, outside, kate walks beside you toward the parking lot, hands tucked into her hoodie sleeves.

“you know,” she says carefully, “you don’t have to protect her from us.” you stop. the night feels thick. your chest feels worse.

you look at her, eyes glassy but steady. “i’m not,” you say softly. “i’m just done asking someone to notice when they’re losing me.”

inside the facility, grace sits alone on a bench long after everyone’s gone.

she stares at her phone. no messages from you. no missed calls. no footsteps walking away that she can follow this time. and for the first time, she wonders if silence doesn’t just hurt—maybe it costs.

she doesn’t apologize right away.

that’s the thing about grace—she needs the right moment, the right alignment of courage and fear and certainty. and when it comes, it hits her all at once. it’s late. too late for practice, too late for excuses.

you’re curled up on your bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, phone face-down beside you like you’re daring it to light up. it hasn’t. not since the fight. not since the silence settled in your bones.

the knock is quiet. you almost don’t answer it. another knock—softer this time. hesitant. you open the door halfway.

grace stands there like she hasn’t slept. hair loose. eyes rimmed red. hoodie folded over one arm—the one. the gray lsu hoodie you always steal, always claim smells like her even after it doesn’t.

she’s holding flowers. your favorites. the ones you once mentioned offhand months ago, like it didn’t matter.

and chocolate. the good kind. the kind she pretends she doesn’t like but always steals bites of when you’re not looking. for a second, neither of you speak. then she exhales, shaky. “hey.”

your heart stutters. you don’t move. “hey.” she swallows. “can i… can i come in?” you step aside.

she walks in slowly, like she’s afraid any sudden movement will send you disappearing again. she sets everything down carefully on your desk, like an offering.

then she turns to you. really turns. shoulders squared. eyes honest in a way they haven’t been in weeks.

“i messed up,” she says quietly. “i know that’s not enough, but it’s true.” you cross your arms, more for protection than attitude. “you let me walk away.” her face tightens. “i know.”

“you didn’t follow me.”

“i know,” she repeats, voice cracking this time. “and i’ve replayed it every day since.”

she takes a step closer. stops herself. respects the space.

“i thought if i stayed still, it wouldn’t get worse,” she continues. “i thought silence would keep me in control. but all it did was show you i didn’t choose you when it mattered.”

your eyes burn. “that’s what hurt.”

she nods, tears spilling now, unguarded. “i love you. i just got scared of needing you as much as i do.”the room is quiet except for both of you breathing.

grace reaches out slowly and holds up the hoodie. “i brought this because…it still smells like me. and because i know you sleep better when you steal it.”

you laugh despite yourself. a wet, broken sound. she smiles, hopeful. fragile. then she steps in close—close enough that you can feel her warmth, her hesitation.

“can i kiss you?” she asks. not entitled. not assumed. careful.

you nod. the kiss is gentle. slow. her lips lingering like she’s memorizing you all over again. 

one kiss turns into another, then another—soft apologies pressed into your mouth, your cheeks, your forehead.

she pulls back just enough to whisper, “i’m not letting you walk away again.”

you rest your forehead against hers. “don’t say it if you can’t mean it.” she kisses you once more. firmer this time. certain.“i mean it,” she says. “every day. every version of me.”

she slips the hoodie over your shoulders herself, tugging it down like she always does, like muscle memory.

Joe was home from practice and decided to ice his throwing arm since it’s been sore for the last couple of weeks. He went into the living room and watched some football highlights on the big TV. They have a big home against the Bills this Sunday. “Joe! I’m home!” He heard Y/N call out. He didn’t even hear the door open. “I’m in the living room!” Joe called back out as he kept his eyes on the screen. Y/N walked into the room wearing her scrubs that have the Bengals logo on them. Joe’s mom got them for her for Christmas. It was Friday and Y/N has had another long week at the office.

 Before she could say anything, she noticed the ice pack on Joe’s shoulder. “Is that still bothering you?” Y/N asked with concern as she walked over and took a seat right next to him on the couch. She looked at him with worry in her eyes. Joe let out a sigh as he paused the video he was watching. “It’s just a bit sore.” Joe said looking over at her. “I just went too hard at practice today.” Joe told her. “Are you sure? I can help you.” Y/N said obviously very concern about her boyfriend. Joe already knew that she was going straight into protective mode. She always does this even if he says he’s just sore. “I promise if it get’s worse I’ll let you know.” Joe told her looking at her with reassurance in his green eyes. “Okay.” Y/N said with a nod.

“I’m going to go get the takeout menus.” Y/N said as she stood up. “I’m too damn tired to cook.” Y/N said and made her way into the kitchen. Joe let out a chuckle and pressed play on the video.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was game day and the first play of the game Joe got hit really hard and landed on his shoulder that was already bothering him. Concern and fear quickly flooded Y/N as she sat in the seats with a couple of her friends. She can’t help but get stressed when she watches Joe play. It makes her blood fucking boil when she sees Joe laid out on the field in pain. The offensive line has been the Bengals’ biggest problem ever since Joe got drafted. Most of his injuries have been caused by him getting tackled to the ground. Y/N could protect Joe better than that fucked up o-line. At least that’s what she tells herself when she gets pissed when Joe gets sacked.

 Y/N can see the discomfort look on Joe’s face as he sits on the sideline, but he stays in the game. It takes a lot to make Joe come out of a game. She watches the trainer work with him, but she can tell it’s not working. She knows he’s pissed about the way they are playing. The Bills defense has been dominating and has shut down the Bengals offense.

There were two minutes before halftime, so Y/N decided to make her way down into the tunnel where the locker rooms are. She used her work badge to get through security. It’s always a perk when your company works for your boyfriend’s team. She grabbed some ice and waited for Joe to come through the tunnel. When players started to walk in Y/N looked out for Joe. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him.

“Joe!” Y/N called out as she quickly walked over to him. “Y/N!” Joe said taken by surprise. “You can’t be down here!” Joe told her in a stern tone. “It’s okay, I just used my nurse badge.” Y/N told him which made his let out a sigh of annoyance. This is the first time she’s ever done this. “Here, put this icepack onto your shoulder.” Y/N said handing him the icepack, but Joe didn’t make any movement. “I’m fine. The pain has gone down.” Joe told her with another sigh. “Joe please I just want to hel- “Y/N started to say but Joe cut her off. “Fuck! Enough!” Joe snapped which took her by surprise. He has never snapped at her before.

“You don’t fucking work her!” Joe said as he glared at her with nothing but anger in his green eyes. “I know but I was worried about you.” Y/N said in a soft voice. “I’m not a fucking child, Y/N. I’m a fucking professional athlete!” Joe hissed. Y/N has seen Joe angry before, but this is the first time he’s poured his anger out on her. Yes, they have had their normal agreements that every couple has had but this one wasn’t like any other one. This felt so intense. “I know- “Y/N started but again Joe cut her off. “I don’t have fucking time for this.” Joe said as he ran a hand through his blonde hair that has gotten longer since the start of the football season.

“Joe.” Y/N said as she went to go take one of his hands, but he quickly pulled back from her. “Just leave me the fuck alone.” Joe hissed as he walked past her towards the locker room. Y/N’s eyes filled hot tears. She couldn’t believe Joe reacted like that. She was just trying to help him. Y/N got rid of the bag of ice that was completely melted. She didn’t even realize it had all melted till Joe walked away. She went into the bathroom to gather herself before going back to her seat where her friends were. The things Joe said to her kept repeating in her head. He’s right, she doesn’t work there but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t help him. She thought she was being a supportive girlfriend.

Once she settled down, she went back to her seat. Her friends immediately knew something was wrong, but she lied and told them that she was fine. Y/N just watched the rest of the game in silence. Once in a while she would clap but that’s about it. Bengals ended up losing the game which made Y/N feel like now Joe is even more pissed off. She feels like Joe now blames her for throwing him off his game even more.

Y/N’s friend drove her home since Joe always stays later after the game for his press conference and to shower. When Y/N walked through her front door she immediately felt exhausted, and it was only a couple minutes after five. She wanted to lie down but she didn’t want to lie down in the bedroom she shares with Joe. Maybe her and Joe need some space after what happened today. Y/N walked upstairs and decided to move some of her things into the guest bedroom that was down the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Joe left Y/N alone in the tunnel he was fuming but when he went back onto the field and looked up into the stands, he quickly regrated what he said to her. He noticed how sad she looked. He could tell she was doing everything she could to hold in her tears.

After his post-game conference, he skipped his showers and went home. When Joe walked into the house it was completely silent. “Y/N!” Joe called out as he closed the front door behind him. He was met with silence. Joe hung his keys up onto the hook and walked into the living room. When he didn’t see Y/N he decided to look into the kitchen but again she was nowhere to be seen. Joe quickly started to become worried. Joe quickly made his way up the steps. The first room he looked in was the master bedroom. His heart dropped when Y/N wasn’t in the room. He pulled out his phone and called Y/N. Joe was surprised when he heard Y/N’s ringtone coming from the hall. He followed the noise to the guest bedroom where Y/N was putting some sheets onto the queen-sized bed.

“There you are.” Joe said with relief in his tone as he ended the call. Y/N kept her back towards him. “Y/N, listen.” Joe started as he walked closer to her. He went to take her hand, but she jerked away from him. She did the same thing he did to her in the tunnel. Joe went to say something, but she spoke first. “I don’t feel like talking.” Y/N said avoiding any eye contact. “Y/N, you don’t have to sleep in here.” Joe told her with a sigh. “I need space.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. “Y/N I- “Joe started but she cut his sentence off. “OUT!” Y/N hissed finally looking at him. Joe saw the hurt look in her Y/E/C eyes. Joe couldn’t help but ache at the way she was looking at him. Joe nodded and did what she wanted him to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe spent the rest of the night downstairs while Y/N stayed upstairs in the guest bedroom. She didn’t even come down to eat anything even after Joe called for her and knocked on the door. Since Joe knew she went to sleep on an empty stomach he decided to make her some breakfast the next morning. He had the day off. He knew Y/N would be coming down soon since she has to be at work by eight thirty. He made some scrambled eggs and sausage.  

Y/N walked into the kitchen wearing blue scrubs that had no pattern on them. “Morning!” Joe said turning the stove off, but he was ignored. Y/N got one of her travel mugs out from the cabinet. “I made you some eggs and sausage.” Joe told her as Y/N filled her mug with coffee. “No thanks.” Y/N said as she put the lid onto her mug. “Y/N, you need to eat.” Joe told her in a stern tone. “I’ll pick up something on my way to work.” Y/N told him as she avoided looking at him. “Y/N about yesterday, I- “Joe started to say but stopped himself when she walked out of the kitchen. “Fuck!” Joe hissed as he ran a hand through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been two days and Y/N has still been giving Joe the cold shoulder. She’s still sleeping in the guest bedroom. It’s been hard for Joe to sleep without having her next to him. He knows he has fucked up big time. He finally has her sitting in the living room with him watching tv after dinner. However, he was on one end and Y/N was all the way on the other end of the couch. Joe couldn’t help but glance over at her. He couldn’t take the silence, so he grabbed the remote off the table and muted the tv.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about what happened at the game.” Joe told her. Y/N stayed silent as she kept her eyes on the tv with her arms folded across her chest. Joe let out a sigh of frustration as he ran both of his hands down his face. He felt so tired. “I was really frustrated about how I was playing, and I poured all of my frustrations out onto you.” Joe told her and again he got no response.

“Y/N, please talk to me.” Joe said in a pleading tone which is very rare coming from him. “It’s funny.” Y/N said without looking at him. “What?” Joe said with confusion. “When I have a shitty day, I don’t put all of my frustration out on you.” Y/N said finally looking at him after avoiding all eye contact with him for the last two days.

When their eyes met Joe saw the same hurtful look she had the night he came home from the game. “I’m sorry.” Joe said in a soft voice. He didn’t know what else to say. “I can’t believe that’s all you are saying.” Y/N told him in snappy voice. Joe watched her stand and walk up the stairs. Joe couldn’t help but jump when he heard a door slam shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe was home earlier than usual from practice. He was in the living room looking over his play book when the doorbell rang. “It’s open!” Joe called out. He heard the door open and close. “Joe!” He heard his mom’s voice. “Living room.” Joe called out. “Hi sweetie.” Robin said walking into the living room. Joe put down his play book onto the table and stood up to give his mom a quick hug.

 “What brings you by?” Joe asked her in a curious tone. It’s a two-hour drive from his parents’ house to his and Y/N’s. “Your dad said when he was talking to over the phone yesterday, he could sense that something was going on.” Robin told him. “Yeah um, Y/N has been pissed at me since Sunday.” Joe told her with a sigh. “She moved into the guest bedroom.” Joe added sitting back down onto the couch. “Oh boy.” Robin said sitting down next to her son. “What happened?” Robin asked him.

 “At the game my shoulder was bothering me, so she met me in the tunnel to give me an ice pack and instead of being a thankful boyfriend I let out all of my frustration from the game out on her.” Joe said recapping what happened. “I told her I was sorry, but I feel like it just made things worse.” Joe added with another sigh. “Because instead of telling her you’re sorry you need to show her you’re sorry.” Robin told him in a stern tone.

 “I know how crazy it gets around here when you are playing games, and you are tired from practice but when she’s working late you should show her how much you appreciate her.” Robin explained to him. When she goes to games with Y/N she can see the tiredness in her eyes. She knows Y/N does most of the stuff around the house.

“I could cook her a nice dinner tonight.” Joe suggested which got him a nod from his mom. “That sounds perfect!” Robin told him with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a little after seven when Y/N got home from work. “Fuck!” She heard Joe snap right when she walked through the front door. “What the hell.” Y/N mumbled to herself as she hung her purse and keys up on the hooks. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw Joe take out a burnt ham from the oven. “Joe, what happened?” Y/N asked him. Joe turned around to face her with a frown. “I tried to make you a nice dinner, but I kept forgetting to check the ham and well I burnt it.” Joe said with frustration as he took the oven mitts off.

“I fucked up again.” Joe added as he tossed the mitts down onto the counter. “No, it was sweet.” Y/N said as she walked closer to him. “You were right. I shouldn’t put my frustrations out on you when you don’t put your frustrations on me.” Joe told her. “I’m going to try to not do that and I’m going to help out more around the house and show you how much I appreciate your help.” Joe added with nothing but sincere in his tone. “And that’s all I ask for.” Y/N said taking one of his hands into hers.

 She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips. “Will you move back into our bedroom?” Joe asked as he looked at her with nothing but love in his green eyes. “Yes.” Y/N said with a nod. Joe gave her a kiss that was longer than the first kiss. Y/N let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck while he held her close.

You and Joe walked into a frat house, Joe following right behind you as you two walked in. Joe immediately gets infront of you as he led the way around, bringing himself and you to the kitchen.

You lean against the kitchen counter, your gaze following Joe to the cooler. “Joe, could you grab me a drink please?” You titled your head, a slight pout appearing on your face.

Joe quickly shakes his head as he grabbed a beer. “Nah, you don’t need to be drinkin’ anything.” He pauses, walking next to you as he pops the cap off his beer. “Last time you got wasted and that was my responsibility, and I don’t want to deal with that shit again.” He mutters, finally taking a sip as he finishes talking.

You rolled your eyes with zero hesitation, lifting yourself off the counter to grab a drink for yourself. “Well I won’t get wasted, and if I do, you don’t have to be my babysitter if you hated it so much.” You scoffed, grabbing a cold beer from the cooler yourself.

Joe rolls his eyes in return, keeping his drink in his hand. “Mhm, sure.” He mumbles, getting up from the kitchen. “I’m gonna look around, see if I know anyone.” He hums as he started walking away, his gaze immediately leaving you as he got up.

You scoff, getting up also. You kept your beer in your left hand as you held your purse in your right hand, carefully scoping out the place.

As you were walking you get interrupted by someone, you had thought it was Joe so when you turned around your gaze had fell to a guy much shorter than Joe.

“Um hi?” You said shortly, tilting your head. “Do I know you at all…” You trailed off, keeping your purse exceptionally closer to you now.

The brunette shook his head as he brought his hands together. “Nahh, but you can get to know me.” You immediately cringe at his ‘pick up’ line.

You quietly scoff, “yeahhh, that’s going to be a quick no from me…?” You kept your head tilted, expecting him to say his name by now.

“Ah right, lemme introduce myself. My names Bryce, what’s yours?” He hums, tilting his head as his gaze was on you. You didn’t have to look up at all knowing he was around your height which was 5’6.

You shook your head, internally cringing at your conversation. “Nice to meet you Bryce, my names-” You fortunately got interrupted by seeing Bryce’s gaze flicker up to someone much taller than you.

You turn on your heels, now having to look up and to no one’s surprise you see Joe. “Oh, hey Joe.” You smiled slightly, shuffling yourself to stand next to Joe.

An awkward silence falls between the three of you guys, until Bryce speaks up. “Is that your boyfriend?” He mumbled, his cockiness clearly disappeared.

You’re quick to shake your head, but not quick enough to answer as Joes already opened his mouth. “It doesn’t matter.” He huffs, crossing his arms loosely.

“Look, Bryce, I would probably recommend you to just leave us alone a little bit. I’ll find you later.” You smiled apologetically, putting your arms in defeat slightly.

Bryce immediately listens and scrambles into the crowd, already talking to another girl.

“Joe!” You look at him, tilting your head as you place your beer on a nearby table. “What are you doing?” You hissed, the tips of your ears going warm.

Joe scoffs, shaking his head in return. “He got too close, that’s it.” He shortly said, leaning back on a nearby counter. Joe was too chill. Which ultimately made you more annoyed.

“We were just talking, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. You talk to girls all the time and I don’t say anything??” You defend yourself, crossing your arms.

“Don’t be bringin’ shit up about me, ‘right?” His voice sharp as his gaze stayed on you. You on the other hand, your gaze was flickering all over the place, making eye contact with Joe now and then.

You roll your eyes, obviously done with the conversation as you walked off to a new group of people. Joe in return doing the same exact thing.

The time was around 1:34 am, you remember that so vividly because you were stuck talking to this guy for the past fourteen minutes. You weren’t sober but you have had a couple beers in your system. You also were still pissed at Joe and haven’t talked to him since, nor seen him. In your mind you thought he talking to some girl, or even just drinking for all you know.

You get snapped back to reality as this guy try’s to wrap his arms around you. Usually you don’t let it because that’s not you, but the argument with Joe and having a couple drinks in your system you felt bold.

“Is this alright?” He slurs, wrapping his arm around your waist completely. You’d say he was about 6’1, 5’11, you weren’t sure.

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Mhm.” You hum, giggling a little as you leaned into him.

The guy chuckles a little, shaking his head. “I thought you were dating that Joe guy, you know the quarterback.” He shook his head, still slurring his words.

You were obviously taken back by this statement, your cheeks warming up slightly. “Really? Does everyone think that?” You mumbled, a wave of shyness washing over you.

He of course nods, nods aggressively even. “Yah, everyoneee thinks you two are dating.” He pauses, taking another sip of his beer as if he needed more. “Like, I bet 90% of the people here thought you guys were.”

You feel your mouth drop open a little, every ounce of boldness leaving your body. “Um, why? Do you know why?” You stuttered, you wanted to just walk away but your questions just spilled out your mouth.

He shrugs, bringing you in a little closer to him, the scent of alcohol much stronger. “Hmm, I mean you two are always together, like always. Like even after games yall hug and shit, and even now you two walked in.” He chuckles again, shaking his head. “Also so many girls don’t like you because of that.”

You feel small, much smaller than before. Your gaze drops down to your feet as your cheeks are warm. “Um, I’ll be right back, I don’t feel well.” You immediately walk away from the crowd, bringing yourself to the back porch as you pulled out your phone.

You click on Joes contact, immediately texting him to come to the back porch. It was much quieter outside, besides the music coming from inside the house.

“Yo, what’s up?” Joe yelled as he stepped outside, it barely took him thirty seconds which was quite impressive.

You squint your eyes as he comes next to you, still visibly tense from your guys mini argument. “You know that people think you and I are dating? Like actually dating.” You mumble, your head tilted as you looked up to him.

Joes shoulders drop slightly as he looks over to you, staying silent for a couple extra seconds. “But we’re not??” He mutters, his voice half confused and the other half still tense.

You roll your eyes as you bring arms down from your chest, letting out a heavy breath. “Yeah obviously, but other people don’t think that.” You paused, a frown playing on your face. “I was talking so some guy and he flat out laughed and told me ‘I thought you were dating that quarterback guy, Joe.’” You mocked him, your voice still slightly shaky.

Joe sighs, shaking his head as he bit his lip. “Well what do you want me to do? I don’t know why you’re so worked up over this little rumor.” He spat, shaking his head. He knew why of course, every boy issue you ever had rooted from yours and Joes friendship.

But honestly, you understood how people would’ve thought you two were dating. You of course didn’t want to believe because you were under the impression that he didn’t like you whatsoever.

Your frown came back, more into a pout form. “Because! It makes sense, I haven’t been able to talk to any boys because of it! Because everyone thought I was yours!” You hesitated, motioning with your hands as your gaze stayed on his.

Joes face softened up a little bit, his smile becoming slightly less cocky as he ran a hand through his hair. His eyes still flickered over your face. “Y/N..” He trailed off, letting his arrogant persona slip a little. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated also, straying his gaze away from you.

You shook your head, stepping back from him slightly. “Really? Joe, are you sure? Because every boy I’ve seemed to talk to thinks you like me, and I don’t think thats a coincidence.” You mumbled, your frown still apparent on your face.

Joe sighed again, his cocky demeanor once showing again as he rolled his eyes. “Be delusional, I don’t know how hard it is to tell them you’re single.” He scoffed, wanting to take back his apology.

You bit your lip, your eyes narrow as they start burning with tears. “No I’m not delusional.” You mumbled, your gaze now on your shoes once again. “I do tell them, Joe.” You added, your voice small.

Joe brought his hand down his face, shaking his head as he brought himself next to you. “Don’t cry, it’ll be alright.” He said shortly, bringing his hand to your back. “You can crash at place then we’ll talk.”

You smiled slightly, looking back up at him as you nodded. You didn’t say anything, if you did you would’ve started crying right in front of him, which you never have done.