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tyler's pov
third person limited

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the word sunk into tyler. first, his eyes. next, his brain. then, his emotions. he had to tell himself so much that he should have expected this that it totally stripped him of his hope of being with his dyed haired friend.

on the way to school the next day, tyler tried to shake off the whole dilemma of being friend zoned. it was two days after the coffee incident on Handbirgs street and he still smelled like bitter coffee and whipped cream. he parked his worn out, rusty car in his designated parking spot on the other side of the street from the school.

through homeroom to third period art, tyler was left alone to his thoughts and daydreams of the mysterious spøøky jim.

josh flipped his hair to the right, licking his lips in anticipation. "josh posh?" tyler questioned, clearly confused what the boy was doing interrupting the teacher talking about the early renaissance of art. josh didn't respond. he just kept accelerating towards the poor boy. he suddenly slammed his lips into tyler's before he could get out a "josh?"

josh released, and tyler brought his fingers to his own lips, shocked.

"why-"

"i love you, tyler."

"bu-"

"as a friend." He smirks.

"tyler!" he is brought out of the daymare close to tears. "oh. uh, tha answer is..."

**********
a/n

short because i felt the need to update

plus: this story's close to 2k! :)

☀︎ ♨︎

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