𝐁𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒!

-you owe me your midnights

♡︎
TW!
-hints of homophobia
-slight mentions of violence/death

will's pov:

Hiding in the shadows from whom I really was, was one thing, but hiding from the person that made me realise I was the way I was, was insufferable. His ravenette hair, soft as breeze in the autumn mornings and his cheeks, red as the prettiest rose flowers they'd pick up for their loved ones. His sparkly, dreamy eyes I could dive into and look for the Atlantis for the longest bits of my life and his perfect, kissable lips that were so hard to resist most of the time...What a ghostly scene it was.

Removing myself from his mind and his whole life got me wondering if a bullet had been shot through my helpless, empty soul or I'd been forced to face the loss of the love of my life..But honestly, there was no such thing as 'much of a difference' in that case.

The unstoppable and irresistible hurricanes speeding through inside my head and showing themselves, when I was caught not showing emotion or just simply distracted, said a lot. That boy was a mess. He made my mind a mess. The hurricanes of thoughts and the waves of feeling unsatisfied with my decisions..it was all him.

I cried my heart out, I screamed my insides out, I've punched every possible item in my room to make that pain go away, for it to disappear from my life...Why me? Why was I born that way? Was I being punished?

The amounts of salty water, pouring out my eyes would fill up the driest lakes and hydrate the driest plants. I felt like I would run out of tears to spare anytime and just..turn it off. It would be so much better to not feel anything, but that's what made us human and it was a beautiful thing. To feel. To love, rage, cry, smile. It was almost gorgeous, but it had it's negatives. Love was difficult, rage was hurtful, sadness was tiring and happiness could be faked.

As people we'd always be seen by the cover of the book and never by the inside. No one dared to search for the actual answers. For what was going really through in there. They'd see you rage and just assume that you were pissed at someone or something, but never at yourself. They'd see you cry and rather assume you got hurt or in some cases, you were a crybaby, but never that you needed to let everything out. Just like that. You just needed a relief, because it'd always make you feel free and human again. I always liked to do that. To remind myself I was human and that it was normal to have emotions, when I felt like it wasn't and I was just being dramatic, just as modern society viewed it most of the time. Like you were born to 'overreact'.

Sometimes I'd wonder if feelings, such as mine for a certain someone, could be reciprocated. If there was even a minority of a possibility that they could. At times my eyes saw it. It was so obvious, hell even see-through. But then I'd mess it up with my instant overthinking and I was back at the start. I was clueless again and couldn't tell.

Keeping something inside me and blocking myself out from everyone else was the best decision I could have done. Not for me, but for everybody else. Maybe if I just kept who I really was from the outside world, it wouldn't be so difficult..and it wasn't. When somebody wouldn't find certain things exactly 'pleasing' or natural, it simply just made you not wanna show the considered 'unnatural' things to the world. In my time, you'd be beaten up to death in a narrow alleyway on your way home, without anyone noticing or giving a crap about who did it, if you were well..that sort of thing. No, I didn't like that word, it made me feel hideous about myself and every time I'd hear someone call me like that to my face, I wouldn't want to get out of my room for hours. My insides would hurt and my heart would shatter into another million pieces, as if it wasn't already hard to glue back together.

I'd always get myself together eventually, obviously, but just because I'd forget about it to not ruin the rest of my days, didn't mean it had never happened, but that it meant it still hurt, despite the fact I acted like it didn't. Even though it was easier sometimes to improve your emotional image as a boy so you wouldn't be considered 'weak', you'd still feel so ruined and damaged from inside like you were a broken vase that could be glued together, but only by small pieces, because it would heal, but it would take time.

I'd need at least twelve stitches to close every single open wound on my heart and if I had him, I'm sure he'd be able to close up every. single. one. He could fix every single broken bone in my body and he wouldn't even ever knew it. He could be the light in the dark and he'd still think darkly of himself.

Even after how he's treated me some times...Oh the wonders that boy was capable of doing..but the midnights that he owed me...

Note:
I decided to be creative for once in my life and tried to experiment with words a little. Would anyone know what I meant by the title of this chapter?

-Nelly🎀