* Some content later in this chapter may be too graphic/violent for some of my younger readers.
If you are squeamish, I have warned you.
Episode 32:
I WON'T
≫ ≫ ≫
F A W N ' S P O V :
"Thanks for c-coming." I mumble, opening the door for Lawrence, as I swallow my shaky voice.
"What's wrong?" He asks, hands plummeting to my waist, as his eyes lock with my own. He shuts the door behind him, and leans back against it.
"Nothing, it's n-nothing." I whimper, as he pulls me into a hug.
"Hey, you said you realized something about someone, does that – does that have anything to do with this?" He gestures to my sad eyes and shriveled frame. I quietly nod my head, feeling progressively more weak and pitiful by the second.
Why did I ever think that he felt the same?
Maybe he cares, but it was stupid to think that he could think I'm attractive. Hot. Sexy. Alluring. I'm none of those things, and obviously that's what guys look for in girls.
Lawrence doesn't though. He's a nice guy, and finds me beautiful for being myself.
He's always told me that. Told me that other guys would just want me for my body, and then scram if they found it unsatisfactory. He told me, that he wasn't going to do that. That he would treat me right, for however long he got to be with me.
Before the night on the roof, he told me lots of things like that.
Now, even after all the things I've put him through, like cheating on him – he's following through.
Good grief, why did I ever let him go?
"Fawn?" Lawrence asks, his thumb brushing away the tears pooling beneath my eyes.
"I'm so, so, sorry," I cry, looking up at him. He stares down at me with nothing but care for me, and I feel safe again, "I n-never should've let us grown apart. I should've h-held on to you."
"Hey, Fawn, you never lost me," he whispers, his chin bobbing above my skull.
"I did, Lawrence. I d-did, I – " I look up at him, "P-Please don't hate me,"
"Fawn, tell me what's going on?" He asks, and I bury me head in his chest before responding.
"I kissed Elliott."
Why do I not regret it?Why is it still such a pleasant memory, when I know now that he wants nothing to do with me in the way that I crave? The way I never saw myself wanting, but do, so desperately now that I realize it's unreciprocated? Why am I thinking about this when Lawrence is right in front of me?
"You what?" He asks, and I step back a little, as he stands up taller.
"I don't know h-how it happened, b-but – "
He turns around, and opens up the door to the hallway. Storming across the walkway he comes to the oak door I know by heart, and begins to slam his fists upon it. I wonder if it will break before it gets opened.
YOU ARE READING
Wrong Guy
Teen Fiction❝Would it be wrong to think - to think, that I could make you so much happier?❞ Fawn Lockhart and Elliott Mass have never gotten along. The water and oil of people they avoid each other at all costs, and when they do interact it's nothing but petty...
