𝐰𝐚𝐫 / 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟

kevin wasn’t a PEOPLE PERSON. always stumbling through her sentences, eye contact faltering. logic would have her more capable with beings of other species then. except logic failed in her. a lack of people skills didn’t necessarily translate into a way with animals and its proven in her solitude. she had a hamster once. didn’t really count though. she keeps her distance now too :    from kittens meowing, their mother purring—sometimes hissing when her gaze lingers for too long, and she waits. for what, she could not say. still her afternoons are spent there. reading, watching, and reading some more. she loses herself in the literature chosen :    forgetting time and space, winding up alone as sundown comes. well, not quite so alone…

he dips into the kitchen before she can press the matter, and she sighs, settling back into the couch in almost a defeated sense. she hates this      ————      dancing around in anxieties and worried glances. she doesn’t let him touch her, either, because now even the simplest brush of fingers sends her spiraling back to that night, and then drowns her in previous experience. it’d be so easy, to get caught up in everything that julian was, but she can’t allow that      ————      not when it serves as a reminder to her being the means to an end.

she smells the marijuana not long after he enters the kitchen, and she sighs once again. she knows this will only lead to conversation, and she doesn’t want his excuses      ————        i’m sorry, you’re my best friend, i didn’t want to hurt you. it’s always the same with him, and she wonders if she should’ve listened, when she was urged to grow beyond him. but she could never leave julian behind      ————      something in her is just TOO KIND, despite being used again and again.

he returns and head rises to glance his direction      ————      he’s back, sans soda, and the expression on his face is determined. knees are pulled to chest and she listens to him confirm thoughts       ————      yeah, it was linda alright.   “ i think i would’ve been okay without confirmation that a movie character turns you on, ”   she says, a little exasperated, before letting him continue. brows raise at words, and she wonders if she should LEAVE      ————      let him wallow in whatever guilt he held, and walk away. but she doesn’t.

SHE NEVER DOES.

   “ i      ————      look, juls, it’s not … i’m sorry. it’s just … that meant more to me than it did you, and everything just reminds me of that and      ————      ”  she cuts herself off, burying head in her arms, embarrassment tinging cheeks. she wishes she were like PIPPA      ————      committing to what she wants, unafraid to pursue it. instead she’s CHELSEA      ————      sad, boring, uninteresting. a SECOND CHOICE.

   “ and i know i wasn’t your first choice, and that you probably tried seeing pippa or someone else, but … ”   she trails off, unsure what else she can say.

why julian had thought himself to have known the secret to mending what he’d broke, he couldn’t say. if the solution had ever been within his reach, he would’ve used it by now. but it wasn’t. because despite surges of courage and creativity, julian still didn’t know what to do. or what to say. he thinks he knows—and then somehow, magically, he makes it worse. even when you’d think rock bottom had been reached, he manages to dig himself down deeper, and deeper, and deeper…

           ❛     what, you think i planned it? that i chose to pass out in front of your house on the off chance that—christ, chelsea. i don’t like pippa. i never have, and i never will.     ❜

there it was again :     that sick concoction of offence and guilt, and it fills his bloodstream with a burning cold. he’s offended for what she thinks, he feels guilty that she does—creating a vicious circle of emotions indecipherable to a boy already struggling. HE DIDN’T WANT PIPPA. not beyond the platonic anyhow. and with a year and a half separating their last non platonic endeavour and now… it was safe to say repetition wasn’t on his agenda. or hers for that matter.

suppose he should give chelsea more time—to process and to be upset. after all, it might as well have been yesterday in her eyes, all while ancient history in everybody else’s. but he’s impatient, and with hurt trickling in, the waiting game becomes tedious. like old wounds picked at, places that ought to have been faded scars now raw scabs instead. he gets it. still he doesn’t. a distance kept (like she’d want it), julian heaves a sigh at inadequacy felt.

          ❝ personally, i prefer saran wrap. you wouldn’t happen to have any laying around in this mess you’ve got, would you? ❞

     as usual, her parents weren’t home, and the large home the espina family lived in felt a little lonelier. as usual, she was high, and as usual, julian apolskis had somehow managed to worm his way into her day’s plans the second it involved being under the influence. it wasn’t that she didn’t like spending time with him — in fact, he wasn’t nearly as terrible as she’d originally though. but that didn’t exactly make her feel good about their interactions. nothing was technically wrong, they were allowed to be friends. but still: it wasn’t like they were exactly advertising their companionship to chelsea, even if she didn’t necessarily have a right to know.

     she inhales with expert ease before she looks at him through lazy eyes, half annoyed.   “   what, are you afraid about mommy catching you smoking at one in the afternoon, or chelsea catching you fraternizing with me ?   ”   she takes this opportunity to blow smoke in his direction after another exhale. 

HE’S NOT ANXIOUS. and with the buffer of marijuana—all edge was removed, leaving the boy without cares. except for a couple. somehow, through the fog of drug - induced hunger, concern manages to weasel its way in. if only in bits and pieces. it spoils the high nonetheless. a fact supposedly agreed on when pippa takes tone. even if the response he offers is much less grounded—more humoured. a laugh, and he snags the blunt.

          ❛     fraternising?     ❜

was the word AMUSING on its own or did the CIRCUMSTANCES act the reason for his reaction. he couldn’t say. and neither did it matter much. another inhale, kept, then exhaled.

a blunt passed :     smoke clouds his vision, and julian falls back into the couch. it is softer than his own. more expensive too. although he figures just about everything in this room alone could pay for their mortgage. and then some. it makes her an unlikely companion. but not impossible. after everything they’d gone through—the good and the bad (mostly bad)—friendship sprouted like spring flowers in the cracks of pavement. so, there he was. in her living room where he wasn’t supposed to be, getting high when he wasn’t supposed to be.