friends with more benefits {discontinued}

1

 "How many times are we going to do this Weston?" You practically yell at him. He gives you a cold shrug back, avoiding any eye contact.

"I'm getting so sick and tired of coming here every time it doesn't fucking work out with you and whatever girl you're talking to at the moment." You were hurt. You didn't want him to know how hurt you truly were, but it was getting harder and harder to hide with every word you threw at him.

"Then why do you come, hm?" Weston shouted back at you. The look on your face told him how you felt about that comment, and he knew you were the least bit shocked but angrier than ever.

"I fucking come here because I want to hang out with you! Because when you tell me that you're sad and hurting and want me to come over I think that maybe for one fucking second it's about more than getting a rebound in." You held back tears, yet let one slip quickly wiping it away with your hand. These weren't tears from being upset, but from holding back this pent-up anger that you had living inside of you for a while. Weston looked defeated, and you couldn't help but feel bad even though every part of you was telling you that you shouldn't feel bad for this asshole. At the end of the day, you loved him and you couldn't stand when you were mad at him.

"Then maybe you should re-evaluate whatever little crush you have on me because this isn't anything more than what it looks like." Nothing could've prepared you for what he had just said. It stung like a bitch. It hit you where it really hurt. The day that you and Weston met, he knew you liked him, that's why he let you into his room in the first place. 

He had always enjoyed teasing you and watching you stare... Though, when it became a "friends with benefits" type deal, you stopped showing your infatuation toward him and channeled it all into sexual energy, if that's the only way you could have him, you'd cut all strings attached.

It got easier though. Every time he talked about a girl, every time he asked you for advice, every time he asked you to come over, and then every time he would stop asking you. The feelings were still there but it became less and less clear to him that you had them, or so you thought.

"Crush..." You scoffed. "Wow, that is fucking low Weston. All I've ever done for you is be here when you needed me. I literally turned my crush for you into nothing so that I could be here to make you happy when you felt down so that I could be a fucking friend to you." You snapped back.

"You know what? I'm done with whatever this is. Don't call or text me, Weston. We're so past done." With that you stormed out of his room, leaving him to deal with whatever bullshit he was hung up on. You made your way to the front door when you heard Weston yell from his room.

"Wait! Listen. Can we just talk? I don't know what to do if you were to leave right now. I really need you." You heard the desperation in Weston's voice, the same desperation you had heard one too many times before. You knew he didn't want to talk seriously, he just wanted to butter you up until you were willing to take your clothes off for him.

"You know what Weston... That may have worked on me the first time, but it's not happening again. So go back to your dumb pity party and please whatever you do... Leave me the fuck out of it." With that, you slammed the door to his apartment shut and found your way to the garage. As you got into your car, you saw Weston running up to your window. Every single part of you wanted to drive off, to show him finally that you didn't need him as much as he figured you did.

You rolled down the window.

"Wait. Please listen.." He pleaded, you rolled your eyes but had a slight interest in what he was about to say.

"What I said back there. It wasn't me. I was just heated because I thought you were leaving for good and I wanted to hurt you so that you'd stay. I'm sorry." It wasn't worded the greatest way, but it was the most genuine thing he had truly said to you.