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Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ #28: Meanwhile

~ Chapter #28: Meanwhile ~

Tap, tap, tap, tap... His dull, sweet pink eraser stabbed his notebook in front of him rather roughly; his disbelief coated eyes staring at the connected stack of paper as the aforementioned orbs attempted to focus on the individual blue horizontal lines that all his vision could pay attention to. The bland number-two pencil in which his right hand was encased around was occasionally twirled around, when its error correcting end wasn't digging sloppily into the flattened tree at the top of his notebook that laid motionless on the table before him, while perplexing and aggravating theories ran through his hard-headed and denying mind. Was what he heard actually the true reality...? It couldn't be; the fact of him, and the new guy... It literally ticked him off, and made him nearly careen off of the edge of his last nerves. He was pretty sure that kind of relationship was never to occur, especially between his best friend and some random guy that just strolled into his life... Because of all of this unintended hatred directed towards the topics and emotions he didn't completely comprehend, he was adamant about not even considering the minor detail that he was jealous. Jealous of Aleks. And not only was he covetous of the brunette he befriended long ago, he was also incensed. Exasperated by the verity that Eddie was taken, and that it was pretty blatant that the Latino liked Aleks a lot, more or less. Probably more.

...Yes. You thought right. Seamus is rather fond of Eddie (would make sense; he is bisexual after all), and he's not exactly positive on when the attraction became an emotional attribute he entertains now. He also did not know whether or not he felt he liked Eddie because of his yearning to be in a relationship again- maybe the slight 'crush' feelings aren't actually real; it's possible he just needs someone like Eddie that treats him like he does Aleks. It's rather envy-forming to witness two people really elated to be in a relationship with another that is indeed their significant other- especially if you're watching the enthusiastically loving actions unravel before your very eyes, and it's your best friend who's receiving the love that you could be harvesting. It was also considerably heart-breaking (for Seamus, at least) to merely observe two people in a relationship from a distance when you weren't in one yourself, even though you were kind of desperately desiring to be in one.

Those were the array of feelings Seamus was experiencing now. Slight melancholia, an unappealing bitterness, and a large, vacant space within himself. And even though it might sound clichè; the flaxen haired teen was in need of another who was just as compassionate as Eddie, to fill his empty half and to aid his sullenly beating heart... It blew his mind that he was so suddenly encountering these types of emotions; he hadn't faced the assailing feelings at any time before, so it was a little devastating to experience them now, in bulk, just because of a little jealousy. Well, whether or not it was just jealousy was still undetermined in the Irish teen's stirred and distraught mind. How could he possibly figure that query out, when his brain was so deluged with the insanity that was composed of maniacal additions to the simple inclination of having someone to talk to and spend time with?

That's right. He couldn't. Well, at least, not right now.

And that's when his pencil broke in his hand; the result of the excessive pressure he was steadily applying and adding every few seconds as his mind began to confound him even more with its assumptions and illogical assurances. Seamus, now brought out of his slightly angry funk because of the sound of the snap of his writing utensil echoed within his ears, looked down at the halved pencil that he still clutched in his grudging grasp, and began to watch with a wary gaze as his fist slowly fell open; the split remains of the pencil sluggishly cascading from his callous palm to land sloppily on his notebook. After merely staring for a long moment at the broken pencil with even more cynicism in his cold blue eyes as the utensil laid motionlessly in two pieces on his notebook paper, only with delay did he look passed the now useless halved yellow shaft, to see scribbles coating the lined paper beneath the pencil he had just murdered. Growing curious as to what was on his originally clean piece of flattened tree, Seamus hesitated before moving his hand that was already atop of the desk he sat at in his room, and swiped his palm across the paper to rid it of the impending and deterring debris. The blonde stared at the two pieces of his pencil as they rolled away in separate directions from his notebook, before slowly and cautiously moving his eyes to peer at the written-on piece of paper that was now ushering him to look at itself with its appealing appearance. Skeptically, he waited a moment, before deliberately focusing his vision on the words randomly etched onto the notebook before him, and a completely different facial expression was gradual to creep over his facial features once he was finished attempting to read the chicken-scratch that spoke a thousand words. His eyes seemed to gleam with perplexity and incredulity, as his mind continuously ran over the mental images he took when he gazed at the piece of paper in front of him; his vision now centered around his hand that laid on his desk's flat and frigid surface instead of the flattened tree.