Lies - Scomiche

11. We are not friends.

A/N: This is short, but I wanted to get it out of the way. <3

I'm contemplating whether I should just leave or wake Mitch up and tell him what happened.

Anthony is definitely mad and it's definitely my fault. I wouldn't have stayed late if I knew he would be home, I'm so stupid for not asking Mitch first.

I take Mitch's legs off of me slowly. He's tired I decide I should probably just leave without disturbing him.

I grab my phone and when I'm ready to get off the sofa, Mitch holds his hand out for me.

"Scott ..." He says with a raspy voice, rubbing his eyes as if trying to clear his vision. "Where are you going, what time is it?"

I take his hand in mine, "It's a little late, I'll just go home. Anthony is here .. you can call for him if you need something" I tell him hurriedly.

"He's here? I didn't know he's coming"

Well yeah, me neither.

"It's best if I leave, take care, Mitchy" I kiss his forehead one last time before I disappear out of his sight.

---

I'm scared for him! I'm scared he will be having an argument with his boyfriend while still being sick because of me, because I don't seem to understand that we are not friends, we will never be.

We can't be friends. I can never be friends with someone I have strong feelings for. It hurts too much.

It hurts that I'm the one who had to leave now for him to have some alone time with his boyfriend. The boyfriend who gets to hold him at any moment and kiss him whenever.

The boyfriend who gets to brush his long bangs out of his face, who gets to kiss the icecream off of his lips.

The boyfriend who gets to casually intertwine his fingers through his. The boyfriend who gets unlimited cuddle time with him.

I can't stop my tears from streaming down my face, I don't know how I thought this was going to work, this will never work. I can't be close to him. I can't be this close to him. It hurts.

It hurts that very specific three words are so eager to roll off my tongue but instead they die tasting like heartache and despair.

I loved him, I still do, and I'll never stop.

I try to go back to sleep, on my own lonely bed.

I reach for the drawer with blurry teary eyes, i take the drawing and clutch it tightly close to my heart. I kiss his autograph trying hard to not think of kissing his lips. The lips I'm so desperately longing to touch, to feel, and to show how much I missed.