I cant even... Connor Franta. (fan fiction of course)

Alone. #17.

I sat cross legged on my over-sized bed looking down at Connor. He was laying stomach-down on the floor. I didn't understand why he wasn't just sitting next to me, but I've decided not to question it. He's one random kid. 

"Your floor is really comfortable." I heard Connor mumble into the ground. 

"The bed's pretty comfy too." I told him. He turned his head to face me, his eyes looked disapproved.

"Tsk tsk." He scolded me. "You'll get that soon enough." I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"Hell no. By soon enough I hope you mean forever from now." I reprimanded him. I know he's kidding, but I also wanted him to know my intentions. I'm not dating him for that. Nor do I want that with him in the near future. That sort of intimate moment will be saved, for when we're completely and totally in love. Otherwise know as: the far away future. He jumped up from the ground and looked at me with calm eyes.

"Chill. I was just joking." He held his hands up in an easing motion. I loudly sighed, looking down.

"I know you were. There's just some things you'll need to know about me. That happens to be one of them." I confessed to him. He plopped down onto to the bed, sprawling his limbs out on my soft comforter. He faced towards my ceiling, exploring it with his eyes.

"What's something else I should know?" He innocently asked me. I swallowed hard. There's nothing I can tell him. I don't need to share any of the details from that painful memory. Those terrifying moments can stay in the darkest forests of my mind. Those forests are fertile with the worst of all my memories. They control, or rather take over a big part of my thoughts. 

"I'm..." My voice cracked. I realized I hadn't shared my up and coming future with him. "going to Stanford in the fall." I finished. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. I had my eyes fixed on my hands.

"What else?" He pressed further. I wasn't sure what else to tell him. 

"What do you want to know?" I curiously said. 

"What's your middle name?" 

"Lynn." 

"Hm. I like that name, Denny." He glanced over at me when he pronounced my name. His eyes gave me the chills. They were an almost icey blue color. 

"Yeah." I managed to say aloud. Man, I'm so awkward when it comes to people complimenting me. It's a curse. We shared a long period of silence before he broke it. 

"What happened?" He sat up, gazing into my eyes. 

"What do you mean?" I confusedly asked.

"What did he do to you?" He looked at my hands that I had been fiddling with. My body started to shake. I didn't have control over stopping it. Breathing soon became the most difficult task I could ever face. Why would he ask me this? I thought I had made it clear to not. What am I supposed to say? Why can't this memory just leave me alone. Probably because it runs the forest of darkness. It takes power over everything.

I couldn't say a word to him. I brought my knees to my chest, buried my face in them, and wrapped my arms around my legs. What do I do? He can't see me like this. I'm so pathetic. I'm supposed to be stronger than this. This shouldn't rule over my life. But when he says it like he does, I'm hopeless. He simply wanted to know. I'm sure he didn't mean to bring this pain to me. Little did he know.

"Whoa. Baby--" He reached his arm out to try to comfort me. When it finally reached me I flinched under his touch. I couldn't help it. It scared me. I just breathed heavier. He must of noticed my flinch, because his face looked hurt. "I didn't mean to..." His eyes fell to the ground, looking heartbroken. I felt terrible. He made it even worse.