The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

Maybe I Don't Hate Him - Victor POV - Bonus

Victor woke up, feeling like death itself. He rubbed his face and took in a deep breath, figuring out if he was dizzy because of the alcohol and whatever substances he took, or he was dizzy because he was hungry. Sustaining himself with chips and soda wasn't the best of ideas, and it wasn't even all that efficient. Easy? Yes. But not healthy.

James walked out of the bathroom and looked at him. There was some sort of pity in his eyes. Victor wished he could curl up in a ball and disappear under his covers forever. He was ashamed.

"Hey," James said. At least he didn't shout.

"Hi," Victor answered. "Don't ask how I'm feeling." It was a redundant question; he was on the verge of throwing up or fainting. Or both. Victor thought about last night, about how he stole a bike, about James trying to comfort him during his breakdown. "I'm sorry." He was pretty sure they hugged, a memory of him clinging to James desperately popped up in his head. Fuck.

There was a short pause.

"Excuse me, what?" James snorted, a big grin spreading on his face.

"Don't be a dick."

"No, I need you to say it again." James was too pleased with himself. What an infuriating guy.

"I said I'm sorry, ok?" Victor repeated. "I'm sorry you had to put up with me, and that you had to take care of me. I'm assuming my lack of sobriety doesn't make me more tolerable in your eyes."

Victor wasn't lying. He did feel sorry. He wasn't sure what to do when people helped him, and he didn't know how to respond to it. He wasn't used to it. Thank you? I appreciate it? Those seemed empty and insufficient.

His feelings were mingled together, ropes of doubt, and resent, and helplessness. There was nothing Victor had to offer in exchange. It was drilled into his head that there were only two things he could give – sex and money.

"I'm sorry I ruined your good mood," James said, his amusement shifting to awkwardness. Uncertainty.

Victor turned his attention back at him. There was no reason for James to feel sorry. It wasn't as if Victor's so-called good mood was genuine. It was a high. A performance. An illusion that never lasted.

Smoke and mirrors, as they say.

James feeling bad about it strengthened Victor's regrets. Not only was he an awful, hallow person, but he was also a burden, a nuisance, nothing but a bother. He was convinced that everyone around him would be better off if he wasn't around.

"Just... you don't have to, ok?" He pushed the hair out of his face. "I know I'm a pain and I'm fully aware that my personality isn't all that delightful." At least when he wasn't sober, he was more fun to be around. Most of the time.

Victor watched James grab a chair and drag it in front of him. He braced himself, not knowing what to expect. Shouting? Violence? James turned the chair around and sat on it, placing his elbows on the backrest.

Victor waited. It was painful to wait, not knowing what to expect.

"Vic, you're self-destructive," he said softly.

Victor studied his face, searching for something. Something he could hold onto and say look, I knew you didn't care! Stop pretending. He couldn't find it.

He almost coughed, trying not to burst into a hysterical laugh. "So? I'm not dragging you into anything, am I?"

"I guess you aren't..." James sighed, looking utterly disappointed.

It irked Victor. He wasn't in the mood for this, he wasn't mentally capable right now to figure out what James was feeling or what James wanted, or why James pretended to care. Did he pretend? "Please, just leave me alone. Let me do my thing. I need this," he said.

He did need it. He needed to numb himself. Feeling was dangerous, because every time it happened, he ended up unable to move for days on end. Stuck in bed. He was probably depressed, but he didn't like thinking about that either.

"No, you don't." James frowned. Victor again expected him to shout.

He started tugging on his fingers, fidgeting, unsure of what to do with his hands.

"I just - You don't understand, and I don't need anyone to understand. I just –" Victor stopped and scratched his arm, he was itchy all over. "I don't think – I don't..." He sighed, frustrated by his inability to find the right words. "I don't feel fine without it."

"Let's give it a go," James said. "Ollie cares about you." Then James held his hand. It was so warm.

Just Ollie? Victor didn't pull away. He liked Ollie and his energetic personality. He liked his kindness the most.

Victor was unable to refuse. There was a knot in his throat. James had been nice to him. James took care of him when he had a fever, and bought him food, and took him home more than once after drinking too much. James punched a guy in the face, or so he claimed. Victor couldn't remember. James wasn't awful.

Ok, Victor thought. Maybe he didn't hate him. 

Author's note<3: I forgot to post this one, so enjoy a double update today! 

I think Victor likes kind people? Am I right?