Basic Instinct [stranger things]

86. Late Night Thoughts

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS

After what happened at his hockey game, Aaron was left with a rather painful, dark purple bruise on his cheekbone.

Of course, that was nothing compared to the apparent mess Charlie's face was in, but then again, that was only what the blond had heard. He hadn't actually seen the older boy since, Aaron feeling so bad about what he had done that he couldn't even bear to think about it too long.

Sure, the boy had been giving him bother for months. But still, Aaron felt a tremendous amount of guilt permanently sitting on his chest at all times.

Never would he ever have imagined that he would be in such trouble at school, literally just the thought of it made him nauseous.

And yet, the second the older boy had spoken about the brunette - who he had grown more than accustomed to having around him - in a way he didn't like, he'd acted completely unlike usual.

And he hated himself for it.

He didn't want to be the type of person that would lash out at people at any point when he was pissed off. Or the type of person to resort to violence when someone was picking at him. He didn't want to be that type of person.

And he wasn't. He wasn't that type of person, that's why it bothered him so much.

Aaron was a nice boy - he really was. Despite what Steve would tell him, it was something the blond would almost pride himself on. That he was the nice one.

He wasn't like the rest of the boys around his age, the ones who picked at people or messed around with people's feelings or tried to purposely hurt anyone else. Aaron wasn't like that.

Aaron was nice.

But then again, maybe that was just it. Aaron was nice. Was. As in, in the past but not at present. Sure, he was still nicer than most boys his age, but would someone who was so nice cause such physical harm to someone else? Aaron didn't think so.

But then again, it didn't really matter what Aaron thought. It didn't matter how hard he tried to be nice to others, or how quiet he was, or how shy he was, or all the things he'd gone through in his short life.

Because now, whenever someone thought of him or his name was mentioned, all people would think of was how he beat up some kid during a high school hockey game because of his temper.

It didn't matter if people didn't know him personally. In his classmates eyes, he wasn't quiet, or shy - he wasn't nice. He would now be known for having a short temper, for an apparent tendency to instantly turn to violence as an answer to his problems. He was now known as just another guy who acted like an asshole.

Aaron was just like everyone else.

But on another hand, Aaron argued with himself that perhaps if he really was such an asshole he wouldn't feel all the guilt he was feeling. That maybe he wasn't as bad as he thought he was.

Aaron didn't know what to think, his mind was a mess at the thought of it all. It frustrated him that he was now portrayed in a way that he knew he really wasn't, he wasn't the violent type of angry. He knew he wasn't.

The blond let out a frustrated groan as his mind would simply not allow him to rest, shifting to the side to glance at his alarm clock. Much to his dismay, it was nearing 2:30 in the morning.

He let out a sigh, moving onto his back as he looked to the ceiling and bit his cheek in thought. The boy stayed like that for a moment before he sat up and got out of bed abruptly, mumbling to himself as he made his way towards his bedroom door.