Night Changes (p.parker)

CHAPTER NINE: THE SEA OF HEARTBROKEN HIGH SCHOOLERS

A WEEK.

AN entire week had passed since you had the absolute pleasure of meeting bug boy in red tights.

It felt.. weird.

You obviously knew that he was well aware of your existence. He had his proof on his wrist. However, now he knew. He knew what you looked like, sounded like, and he knew that you had no inclination to meet him.

And yet here you were, having the same knowledge as you did months ago.

Red and blue suit, black tattoo, boyish voice, and no identity.

You were at a complete disadvantage. For fucks sake, this man had seen you fall apart, and you were utterly clueless. What if he had seen you from the other side of the street? Or maybe he specifically searched for you on patrol? Or maybe now he actively avoided you.

You didn't quite know how to feel about the situation.

On one hand, maybe this was good. It wasn't an ideal start to whatever may happen, but it was a kickstart. Knowing yourself, you probably wouldn't have had the guts to try and talk to him yourself, especially so soon.

On the other, fuck the world. For forcing you into something you weren't ready for. For making you face problems and insecurities you didn't even want to admit you had.

God, you were terrified of failure.

What did the universe expect to happen? You'd meet your beloved, fall in love, and then what? Disappoint him? Neglect him? Break his heart because you aren't strong enough for the both of you?

He'd meet you, and you wouldn't be what he needed. You wouldn't be able to love him the way he yearned to be loved.

Hence, failure.

Awful, cruel, devastating failure.

However, besides a fear of failure, you also had a horrible habit of having false hope. The slight trickle of light when you thought, maybe, just maybe the universe was right, and you were perfect for him, as he was perfect for you. That if you had a chance to know him, and he, you, maybe you could work.

Maybe you could love.

But that was wishful thinking.

If anything, he probably hated you now. For running away, for getting scared. For not even looking in his direction.

...

You flinched as your alarm went off. Another sleepless night slipping through your fingers. Like the past couple of days, subtle eye bags clung to your skin, ratting out your ability to rest.

Another night pondering if avoiding him was the best decision. Another night of doubting your intentions. Another night of wondering if choosing to not be with him would cause more damage than necessary.

You felt overwhelmed and unprepared. There were no instructional books the universe provided for situations like these. No guidance, no reassurance, and the one person who was made to help you through your problems was currently the problem you were running away from.

Again, what a wonderful way to start a morning.

Flowing through your morning routine with ease, you did your hair, face, and other hygiene efforts before making a plan to take the bus.

Tossing on a pair of comfortable jeans and your mom's old college sweatshirt, you tied your laces before swinging your bag over your shoulder. Your thoughts took up most of your breakfast time, so you'd have to wait until lunch for the chance to eat some food.