Back To Friends - Chris Sturniolo

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warnings : angst, mentions of sex, arguing, tension, swearing??

(english isn’t my first language)

word count: 729

The first thing you feel when you wake up is his arm draped over your waist.

The second is regret.

Not because of the sex—it’s never that. It’s everything that comes after. The silence. The pretending. The way he rolls over like you’re just some body he happened to fuck, not the person who knows what his laugh sounds like at 2 a.m. or how he hates mint toothpaste but uses it anyway.

You stare at the ceiling, motionless. His breathing is slow behind you, peaceful.

You’re anything but peaceful.

Touch my body tender

‘Cause the feeling makes me weak

Kicking off the covers

I see the ceiling while you’re looking down at me

You slip out from under his arm. Quiet, practiced. You know this routine too well. Grab your hoodie. Stuff your emotions down. Don’t look back.

But of course, he wakes up.

“Y/N?” His voice is rough, sleepy. Fuck. You hate how much you love that.

“You’re leaving already?” he asks, rubbing his eyes, the sheets falling around his waist.

“Yeah,” you mutter, not turning around. “Didn’t wanna overstay.”

“It’s 6 a.m.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “You okay?”

No. Not even a little.

“We need to talk,” you say, finally facing him. The words feel like knives in your throat.

His expression shifts. Like he knows exactly where this is going, but he still hoped you’d be too scared to say it.

“Don’t do this,” he says.

“I have to,” you whisper.

How can we go back to being friends

When we just shared a bed?

How can you look at me and pretend

I’m someone you’ve never met?

You’re not just fucking anymore. That’s the problem. Somewhere between drunken kisses and sleepy cuddles and forehead touches you shouldn’t have let happen—you fell. Hard.

And he didn’t catch you.

“You said you didn’t want anything serious,” he says, but his voice is too soft to sound convincing.

“I didn’t think I would fall for you, Chris. But I did. And now it’s killing me, pretending like this is casual when you look at me like I’m a stranger right after you’ve had your hands all over me.”

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

“You remember December?” you ask, heart in your throat. “We watched shitty Christmas movies and you fell asleep on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Not ‘cause of the weight, but ‘cause I didn’t want you to fucking move. It felt right. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel that.”

It was last December

You were layin’ on my chest

I still remember

I was scared to take a breath, didn’t want you to move your head

He won’t meet your eyes.

That’s all the answer you need.

The devil in your eyes

Won’t deny the lies

You’ve sold, I’m holding on too tight

While you let go, this is casual

“You’re scared,” you say. “And that’s fine. But I’m not gonna keep letting you fuck me like I’m yours and then treat me like I’m nothing.”

He steps forward, helpless. “So that’s it?”

“I loved you, you know,” you say. Not I love you—past tense. Even if it still feels present.

“Can’t we just go back to friends?” he says, quiet. Like maybe if he says it soft enough, it won’t shatter you.

But it does.

You let out a broken laugh. “You really think we can go back? After this? After everything?”

How can we go back to being friends

When we just shared a bed? (Yeah)

How can you look at me and pretend

I’m someone you’ve never met?

He doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to.

How can we go back to being friends

When we just shared a bed? (Yeah)

How can you look at me and pretend

I’m someone you’ve never met?

I’m someone you’ve never met (yeah)

You grab your keys and walk out.

And this time, you don’t look back.

taglist: @whore4chris @sturniqloo @chrepsi @cherryystemm @jcsturniolo11 @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @crazbubs @poolover123