Mkulia oneshots!?1!1!!1!

Rose thorns prickle my skin.

Rose thorns keep prickling at my skin, wondering why I didn't continue what I already started.

mks pov only

“What a waste of time and patience.”

I recalled blurting out afterwards when my heavy breath escaped from my lips as I made my way to the cabin, I dropped the bouquet of cupped petals down by the coat rack and I thumped myself pathetically facefirst into the uncomfortable mattress.

“I brainstormed my mind to simply brew a heartwarming letter together, plucked the most sweet-smelling flowers Muskoka, Ontario and gave myself all the courage to speak of my feelings just to see her chitter-chattering with Wayne in a romantic tone — even seeing them grasp each others hands!”

I continued my rant, conversing with myself as I throw the sheets on top of me. Dew drops were bubbling the crests of my eyes as I bit my tongue to hold back a pitiful sob.

“I was naive to think someone like Jules would like me, of course she went for some jock who plays hockey! It's way cooler to speak about THAT in a conversation then saying that your just a teenager who is a kleptomaniac!!”

I slid the beanie off my head, my ruffled hair spread across the pillowcase as I pressed my face against it.

“All the work thrown aside for nothing.”

My gaze stinged with envy, yearning for the same fate of luck he earned for what seemed to be nothing; he never had a proper conversation with her in the past, building up a nonexistent bond between themselves.    And he just scores her?

     It was unbelievably cruel.

It felt like my heart got gnawed down the middle, heartbroken.

“It would be a low blow if I broke their relationship that presumably seems to have already blossomed and bloomed,”

A frowning expression coated my face. I zoned out; staring at the plain old, wooden wall.   

The tips of my fingers tapped along a flimsy cardboard surface as my arm drooped down the floor, I squinted an exhausted eye open as I grab the object by its sharp corner.

I took into notice it was the box of chocolates that I threw to rot underneath the craned up bunk bed a few weeks prior before this incident; assuming it was a sick trick played by Bowie to get a laugh out of me.

I lazily opened the wooden lid, shocked to see that everything was ordinary about it — no unwanted surprises, no joking comment glued to it and especially no fake chocolate.

I peer to the bottom of the lid, widening my eyes as I read it slowly whilst my retinas shook in disbelief.

The message written down onto it was specifically Julia's, even signed with her autograph.

It contained the following sentences —

     “I managed to find the confidence I lacked to tell you all of this time, but, I'm hoping you will share the same feelings I have about you and this whole bond we have that's only classified as an alliance — I'm willing to pull some strings and accept for who I am if you do reciprocate my love for you!!!

I love you, Mk.

I hope you do as well.”

It was lavished with kiss marks laced with red lipstick.

Oh,

Everything could've been perfectly how I wanted it to be like.

If I wasn't so idiotic.

The thorns that speckled the stem of the flower that was tied perfectly upon the lid drew blood from my fingers,

staining the advertisement of the chocolate with redness.

Each ache of pain questioned something out to me —

“Why are you filled with suspicion?”

“Why aren't you running to her?”

“Why are you crying?”

“Why are you not going to apologize?”

“Why are you giving up something that you already started?”

The last one lingered painfully in my mind, echoing nonstop in a stone-cold reminder of my foolishness.     My eyes fluttered shut as I silently cried, ducking my head to be underneath the covers.

Was this all real or was I just dreaming?

I must be dreaming.
I'll feel better in the morning.