#ukyt

warning: MDNI, 18+, these are links to porn videos on twitter which you need to be logged into to see (if you’re in the UK you need to prove that you are 18+ to view these)

🛸 ANON OUTTT !!!

yes i saw that too! he's on his way to lollapalooza in berlin that's why

bach and arthur date night 🤍🌌

FWB!Ginge Part 10

You knew you shouldn’t. But you could hardly help yourself. You missed Morgan more than anything, which in itself is ironic considering you had hardly anything to miss. You’d tried to convince yourself you knew what he was looking for, something casual and fun. You couldn’t do that to yourself anymore.

But in a moment of weakness, after weeks of ignoring him, you finally caved. The girls had all gone out, you’d stayed home with the idea of staying up and writing one of your assignments. You were already feeling pretty sorry for yourself from that alone.

John Leigh Park? Tomorrow afternoon?

He read it twice, then once over again just to double check it was definitely real. He could hardly believe his luck, never in a million years did he think you’d reply let alone agree to speak to him again.

2pm?

You liked the message, not wanting to give him anything more than the most blunt replies you could think of. But it was enough for him, enough for him to start getting excited at the idea of seeing you again.

He fell asleep at 4am. After a brainstorm about the best way to approach the situation, he’d decided on a letter. He knew he had so much to say, that you deserved to hear, but he’d never do the words justice in person. Sure, he could buy you anything you wanted really. And yeah, some people would forgive at the drop of a hat for a Louis Vuitton bag, but not you. He knew you better than that. Knew you were better than that.

So the next afternoon he stood in the car park and waited with a coffee for you and the letter also in his hand.

He’d read the words that many times he could practically recite it from memory. Four different versions had ended up in his bedroom bin before he’d settled on this one. Even now, he wasn’t convinced it was enough.

His stomach dropped as soon as he saw you walk through the gates of the park. He watched as you looked around the car park, waiting until you spotted him. It was strange. A few months ago you’d have run over to him without thinking, wrapping your arms around his waist with a laugh before he’d even had chance to say hello.

This time you slowly walked towards him.

“Hi.”

Your voice was quiet. He swallowed.

“Hi.”

“You’ve been waiting long?”

“Nah.”

He’d been there nearly half an hour. You glanced at the untouched coffee in his hand.

“For you. Flat white with vanilla.” He held it out to you, reciting the order he knew all too well. You nodded, accepting it gratefully with a short, “thanks.”

“So…” you said eventually, looking out towards the park instead of at him. “How’ve you been?”

He could’ve lied. Said he’d been alright. Said work had kept him busy. Instead he shrugged.

“Pretty shit.”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“You?”

“I’ve been better.”

You both let out quiet laughs. Not because anything was funny. Just because neither of you knew what else to do. He looked at you properly for the first time. Watching as you took a sip of your coffee.

“So…what did you want to talk about?”

Morgan looked down at the envelope still tucked beneath his arm.

“I actually… don’t.”

You frowned.

“What?”

“I don’t want to stand here and try and explain everything.”

He held the envelope out to you.

“I wrote it down.”

You looked at it but didn’t take it straight away.

“A letter?”

“Yeah.”

“You wrote me a letter?”

“I know it sounds dead old-fashioned.”

“It does a bit.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

You finally reached for it. Your name was written across the front in his messy handwriting. You ran your thumb over the paper.

“What’s in it?”

“The truth.”

Your eyes lifted to his.

“Every word is true.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward about opening up so much. “I’d rather you read it when you got home.”

You gave a small nod.

“Okay.”

“And…”

He took a breath.

“…whatever you decide after you’ve read it…”

His voice caught slightly.

“I’ll leave you alone.”

That made your chest ache.

The next half an hour passed quicker than either of you expected. You wandered aimlessly around the park, coffees in hand, talking about anything but the reason you’d met. For half an hour, it almost felt like you’d pressed pause on everything that had happened. Not because it was fixed, far from it, but because you’d quickly realised in these last few weeks that you felt so safe with him, his absence proved that.

When you got home you couldn’t lock yourself in your bedroom quick enough. Your fingers shaking to open the letter as quickly as you possibly could. Your eyes never moved from the pages, scanning over the words he’d scrawled onto the page.

Reader,

I’ve wrote this 4 times now and not one of them feels worthy enough to describe how I feel. This feels like I’m trying to make you feel sorry for me, but that’s not what this is. I’ve never been good with words as you probably know, so I thought a letter would be a good start to showing you how I really feel.

You deserve the truth.

You probably deserved it all those months ago when we were lying in bed at my house after that night out. You’d spent the whole week at mine, practically living there even when I was at work. There was something comforting about knowing I’d walk into you when I got home. I knew after that week that you meant way more to me than I was telling you. I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it.

I still remember the first time I saw you out, how you looked when Heather had introduced you to all of us. I remember thinking you were definitely the best looking in the room that night and that you were definitely way out of my league. So of course, I decided to play it cocky with you. Hoping you’d be able to take a joke if I took the piss out of you and thank god you could. I realised I’d met my match that night. Truth is, I was shitting myself.

I remember going home that night thinking I’d never hear from you again. Then somehow you’d show up to more and more events with Heather and I’d see you all the time. Each time we’d grow closer until I finally had the balls to ask you back to mine. I won’t write what happened next but I still don’t know how I got that lucky.

Mikey’s birthday truly changed it all though. We’d been seeing each other for a few months by then. I wasn’t even going until I heard you’d shown up. I had work so early the next morning but I couldn’t risk the thought of you being in the house without me there. I’d never gotten ready so quick in my life.

I spent the night ignoring you. Like always. Pretending you weren’t there because I didn’t want anyone to know about us. Because in my head, if people knew then it could be ruined. So I sat with my mates and watched you leave before deciding to show up at yours. I knew you’d be upset but I just had to see you again.

I’d never cared about someone the way I care about you before. I kept thinking if I acted like I didn’t care as much, it’d somehow hurt less if I lost you. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew I’d upset you. And I still did it.

Keeping you a secret was probably the biggest mistake I ever made. At first, I told myself I just liked keeping things private. Then somewhere along the way, it stopped being about that. I don’t even know what I was scared of. People’s opinions maybe. Them taking the piss. Us not working out. I don’t know.

All I know is while I was worrying about all that, I never stopped to think what it must’ve felt like for you.

Every time I walked into a room and acted like we were just mates. Every time you reached for my hand and I’d look around first. Every time you left wondering why I was one person when it was just us and someone completely different when everyone else was there.

I’m sorry for every single one of them.

You deserved better than that.

I keep thinking about all the little things. You leaving your make-up all over my bathroom and somehow taking up more room than me after about two weeks. You stealing my hoodies and then acting confused when I wanted them back. Coming downstairs in one of my United shirts that practically reached your knees. Making me watch Love Island even though I spent the whole time pretending I hated it. It sounds stupid writing it down. But that’s what I miss. Us.

I miss acting annoyed when you’d ask me to pick you up from a night out. Secretly I loved knowing you were safe but at the time I’d make out that it was the biggest inconvenience.

I’d drive around Manchester for another hour right now if it meant I got five more minutes with you.

I know saying sorry doesn’t change any of it. If it did, I’d have said it a thousand times already. I know a letter doesn’t magically fix months of me being an idiot either. But I needed you to know none of it was because I didn’t love you. It was because I did.

If this changes nothing, I’ll understand. If you never want to see me again, I’ll leave you alone. I promised you that.

But if there’s even the tiniest part of you that still wants this, I’ll spend every day proving I can be the man you thought I was all along.

Not because I think I deserve another chance but because you deserve to be loved properly and I should’ve done that from the start.

I’m sorry it took losing you to realise it.

Morgan.

You sniffled as you hand pushed the tears away from your cheeks. You heart hammering in your chest as your eyes flicked back over every word. You picked your phone up again and quickly typed a message to him.

I read your letter. Can we meet again?

Tell me where and I’ll be there

There’s still a lot we need to talk about

I know

I don’t know if I want all of this yet

IT'S HAPPENED AGAIN I'M NOT A STALKER I PROMISE