#suongsp

there were certain things in life that one was not supposed to do, period. sleeping with what might have been the love of your best friend’s life was most definitely one of them. lucky for bronson, he hadn’t – though with how things were unfolding, what he had done seemed to have been just as bad. he could try to rationalise what he'd by listing every grievance preston had ever caused him, but none of them had warranted his kiss with kendall. he couldn’t justify his actions, nor did he want to. so he stood silent, thinking it was better to let his best friend get it all out. ever since the kiss, his heart had hurt each time preston called to make plans or inquire about his day. perhaps that ( more than anything ) was why he had decided to prolong his stay in aspen ? preston may have wondered why bronson had slowly started to distance himself, or why he hadn’t immediately notified him of his return to bridgehampton, but he just couldn’t bear his own guilt around the other. it had been nothing but a stupid mistake, one which was meant to stay between kendall and him. he should’ve known better, of course. « fuck this weekend ! » there was something in that shout, a pain behind it. bronson looked up from the ground and he watched; watched preston’s eyes which is when he knew. the anger must have been nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life. it dawned upon him that shakira hadn’t only hid one easter egg for preston to find in her most recent blast, but two. « you’re right, » he sighed, « i should have told you. but, come on, how long have we been best friends for ? you have to believe the only reason i didn’t was because it meant nothing to me. » careful not to suggest kendall meant nothing to him, he carried on, « look, i am sorry, alright ! »