blue | a collection of tronnor oneshots

self-doubt anxiety and fear

Connors hands tremble at the sight of him, his slim stomach- or maybe it's his hips- pushed out as he stands next to his bedroom window.

His delicate hands nestle themselves deep in the mass spirals of chocolate on his head, a neck so kissable Connor can hardly contain himself when around.

Connor guesses he's getting ready for bed by the time and the fact that the bathroom hooked to his room is fogging up with what he presumes is vapor from hot water- a running shower.

He can't be too sure though, as his view is from across the street where he sits on the hood of his car with a beer and an e-cigarette.

Troye removes his hands from his hair. Resting them instead on the hem of his shirt as he peels it off and tosses it somewhere out of view. Just as his fingers find the button of his jeans, his eyes wonder to the open window.

He turns to close it, catching sight of Connor and with a bashful smile, draws the curtains. It's nothing new, he finds him outside in that same spot almost every evening. It doesn't scare him anymore, the stranger watching him, but gives him a sense of comfort.

Connor watches Troyes shadow until he can't see it anymore with the idea that he's now in the shower. It's not for ten more minutes does Connor see the familiar outline of the man dressed in black appear in the center of Troyes room. His name? Self-doubt.

His usual companion's Anxiety (a skinny red head with an evil grin) and Fear (a younger boy with messy black hair and dark eyes) seemingly absent. Don't mistake this as a good sign, self-doubt by himself is a pain.

He meddles around in the room for a bit before finding his way to the bathroom, and as Connor watches from his car he sighs, oh how he wishes to hold Troye out of the man's reach.

It happens often that Troye almost lets Connor in, but doesn't, and instead gives Self-doubt a key. The key to his front door, and to his heart. But aren't those the same? One golden key chain and two purposes? But Connor supposes that if you have an all access pass to the insides of someone's chest, then should you ask for more?

The light in the bathroom goes out and Troyes walks back into his room, his chest as wet as his hair, his modesty covered in black briefs. And he stands there, eyes out of focus as Self-doubt wraps his bulky arms around his shoulders, his rough fingertips writing words on his chest in the form of bruises.

Worthless

Ugly

Unwanted

Unneeded

A single tear rolls down Troyes check as he hears the words repeated into his ears, a breath made of smoke hitting the shell of it.

Connor wonders what his hearts doing. Is it listening? Is it blocking out the sound with a tear soaked face, or is it singing along?

He wishes to hold it in the palm of his hand, he wishes to blink against the bone of Troyes cheek and for all of his pain to vanish, but when the boy you love loves hating himself more than loving you, what can you do to change his mind besides wait? Besides be persistent? Besides send him love in the form of empty beer cans and the hood of a car?

Troye grabs the hand of his Self-doubt and pulls him to bed where he'll send the sweet boy to sleep with cruel lullabies and cold hands.

And Connor holds no real resentment for being casted aside as such, because in the end he's not even real. In fact, just as Self-doubt, Anxiety, and Fear, all he is is a feeling Troyes turned into a figurative shadow for safer keeping.

And in this world, Troye prefers Doubt to Love. And that's who Connor is, the physical version of the thought of Love. And at the moment, Troye feels Love is less real than all the things he hates about himself.

That's what breaks Connors heart the most. That is, if he had one.

-

this has been an adventure. i just wiped it up so yeah

also i deleted a promo chap so this is my 90th chap!! yay!! also this book is 103 in fanfiction?? what?? thanks frens!!

wanna rant? ->