honey

three

You woke the next morning to waffles and three strips of bacon on the side of your bed, waiting to be devoured. You could feel your mouth salivating at the delightful scent, sitting up almost instantly.

"Oh good, you're up. Melissa called, wants to drop by later to see you." Shawn enters the room and you nearly shit your pants seeing him still there.

"Why are you here? I thought you left." You say through a mouthful of waffle.

"Nah. Amy's out of town for some article due about Fashion Week in Milan." You roll your eyes through his justification at the mention of her name.

If he could have picked any other girlfriend in the world besides your high school bully and enemy, that would've been fantastic. If there could be any other 'kindhearted brunette in the city that lived across the hall from him, that would be amazing; but sadly, the universe never operates in your favor. Never really has.

"Y/N, you've got to get over you—"

"I don't have to get over anything. The reason I never believe you when you say 'My best friend looks good!' or 'Goddamn.' , is all because of her. I don't have to get over anything." You seethed, knocking your almost finished plate onto the floor.

You can already hear Rhea purring at the newfound pile of food before. If Shawn wasn't as dear to your heart as he is, you surely would've pulled the kitten from under the bed and rubbed her across his chest, just to spite him. You really had the mind to.

His words made you feel like he didn't care, like your anger and spitefulness were invalid. Amy Martin was Satan's apprentice. Her horns were hidden beneath her dead, crisped roots she calls hair and you despised her with everything in you. You tried to spend your life not hating anyone, but she was always the exception.

"Y/N." He calls out to you, but you don't bother to look up at him. There's already a fresh pool of tears already kicking at your eyelids.

He didn't understand. He didn't get a patch of his hair cut during finals week and had to wear a beanie in the middle of May. He didn't have so many bruises on his body from bathroom fights where he had to wear jackets for days until they didn't look like patches of the night sky were drawn into his skin. He didn't get fired from his first job because Amy and her friends came in and trashed things during your shift.

You wanted to cry at the nightmarish recollections, feeling brand new and freshly created. Shawn was walking towards you as he watched your hands begin to tremble. He watched the tears begin to cascade from your tightly closed eyes and his heart broke.

He hadn't known he struck a nerve by talking about Amy. He hadn't quite grasped why you despised her so much. Mentally, Shawn was assuming it was something petty, like stole a boyfriend or cheated off Y/N in classes, but if it was physically affecting her, it clearly was something deeper.

"I'm sor—"

"Shut up." You voice wavered as you opened your eyes again, instantly looking down at your quivering fingers. "I just...I need silence."

You'd worked day and night, rebuilding and strengthening all that you were. The torment she took a large part of inflicting was buried in the backs of your mind a lot of days. There were things that triggered you all the time, of course, but you worked so hard to not give them the power to hurt you anymore.

The fact that he truly believed she was a good person, was triggering enough. Just the mere thought of Amy being good and changing is sickening to you because she never had a good bone in her body and you highly doubted she ever would.