Grand Finale || r.r. + b.u.

Two

I hate to make it sound like Brendon is my only friend, I actually have a nice group of people who are there for me, and I'm there for them. It's just that since the flowers began to appear again I've started distancing myself, afraid of what they'll think. I can tell they see them, but they look past them, but its not the same way Brendon does. It's weird, and most times difficult to explain.

maybe we aren't just friends, but it's probably better for both of us if we are. if just a small tug at some flowers can send me bleeding for hours, who knows how long it'll take for this condition i'm in to kill me?  i'm usually not the type of person to care so much, but i wouldn't ever let someone down by dying.

I never actually took time to look at myself in the mirror.  Then again, I never really wanted to.  But I never really decided to take the time and just look at myself.

when i finally did take effort to actually see myself i cringed a little bit. the mirror revealed small and medium flowers poked out from behind my ears and in my hair, blue and pink petals finding their way out of the collar of my shirt, golds and purples from my arms.  It was so strange to look at myself.  I usually wore baggy sweater and over sized hoodies to hide the flowers.  Except for around Brendon.  He always tried his hardest to convince me that they were beautiful, that I was beautiful. 

Everything was always so okay around him. It was weird to me, being around someone who cared so much.  i could consider the fact that he might like me, i mean what type of person that's "just friends" with someone calls them beautiful? but i know if he did like me it would all end up being too good to be true. when you have crushes on people they aren't always meant to like you back, even if it just feels right.

He would watch me when I'd pull my sleeves down past my hands or bury my head in my hood during a lecture in class. Sometimes he would just brush it off, other times he'd subtly grab my hand or something. Immediately responding to thoughts I never verbalized.

maybe i'm just lucky to have someone that cares that much, because even though we never really talked about the flowers, he always tells me that he likes them, and ya nothing to be ashamed of. He'd say something along the lines of "don't worry about it, they're pretty, you're pretty", and I'd just smile back at him. I never understood how he could think that I'm "pretty". I'm just me, and the flowers are just another problem. i've never thought about it any other way.

It never made sense to me that he didn't think I was a total weirdo or anything.  He always stuck with me.  The night he asked about the flowers though, everything had changed. That was the night, two days ago, that we kissed for the first time.

We were just hanging out as usual, hanging out at an old elementary school that had closed a few years back. The sky was grey, as if it would rain soon. We sat on a small brick "wall" that surrounded plants. The old schoolteachers used to tell the kids that the thing was a "wall" for entertainment's sake, so that's what everyone calls it now, even if it really isn't.

"I never asked about the flowers." he says quietly. His tone was soft and quiet, careful even. I could tell by the way he spoke that he was just curious, wasn't being an asshole. But I still felt fear bubble up in my stomach. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, I'm just interested." He adds, finally meeting my eyes.

There wasn't a good way to explain it, and I wasn't used to speaking without being made fun of. Any ounce of logic I once had was quickly stripped from my brain. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but I couldn't just let it out.

"I-I'm sorry," was all I could choke out, not knowing what to say. I tapped my fingers on my legs, trying to think of something anything sensible to say. "the last time I ever tried to explain it, I only ended up getting hurt." I whisper.

I felt raindrops on my skin, but I paid no mind to it, only the feeling of Brendon taking my hand into his own.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, tracing circles on the back of my hand. I only nod my head in response. "Okay." He says

At that point I had told him about the flowers. When I remember them starting, what it was like in my head at the time, I essentially began to spill my guts to him. How I had accepted that I wasn't exactly "normal". I never told him how it happened, because I still don't know.

Brendon had just listened to me. Not pausing to say "okay" or anything, he just listened to me talk. like he actually cared what I had to say.

"But then I got close to this guy," I say quietly. "I'm not gonna say his name or anything, since there's no reason to. But we talked a bit. I was fifteen, maybe even sixteen at the time. Just little flowers in my hair that I paid no mind to. But he never really noticed them." I say, noticing the rain had come to a stop for now.

"This guy had always said he loved me and stuff, even though now that I stop and think, he didn't." I whisper. "Spencer had told me all this guy wants to do was get in my pants, and well, he was right I guess, but more on that another time." I add, cracking my knuckles and sighing.

"There was this one time, when this asshole was..." I try to say it, trailing off. I don't want to speak and I feel myself choking up. I'm scared, scared of what Brendon might think, what he might be thinking right now. The rain starts again, this time much more persistent.

I hug my knees to my chest and sigh again, wondering how to say what's on my mind.

"I guess we were talking about something," i lied. "and then he saw one of the flowers in my hair. I remember him getting so angry all of the sudden, claiming I was cheating on him and someone gave me a flower or something. And I told him it wasn't anything like that an he ripped it from my head. I could already feel blood dripping from my head. the flower just grew back with another one by its side." I pause, not knowing what to say again.

I want to say it how it is, but it's scary and I don't like reliving it. The memory makes me sick to my stomach. Everything needs to stop, the rain, my voice, the quiet, my mind. I want everything to stop. but when i panic it just gets worse.

"I should go." I whisper, not even wanting to think anymore. My mind growing numb and the rain growing heavier. I bet my dad will be pissed if I come home soaking wet. No parent likes to see that their kid in a state like that. But I know for a fact I don't want to go home right now, I don't even want to leave Brendon. I just want everything to stop.

I move in autopilot; mindlessly running off in the hopes everything will finally stop for once. I want my mind to be quiet, I want the rain to be quiet. I have a headache.

Even if I'm being dramatic for running off, I had to. Not matter how much of an idiot it will make me look, no matter how much it hurts. At first, I didn't realize Brendon coming after me until he grabbed my hand to make me face him. It was at that moment, I had seen into his eyes for real this time.

"I'm sorry, I-" I whisper, but get cut off by Brendon's lips on mine. How cliché of us, standing in the rain, kissing for the very first time. It felt as if to last a lifetime, yet was over far to quickly. I remember we just stood there, as he pulled me into a hug. The rain continued to rage on, but neither of us really cared.

Yet still, everything is normal between us. Just now between conversations there's stolen kisses, and things of the sort. Maybe everything will be okay, I want everything to be okay.