the progress project [3]

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everett

"can i walk you home?" he asks after they fall into step, something that's difficult considering how crowded the manhattan streets usually are.

"i don't know..." derek says with hesitance, staring ahead at the bustling people on the crosswalk. he tugs at his tie and wipes his sweating forehead. "sorry, i just..."

everett offers him a smile. "it's okay. you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"why did you have to make things so difficult?" derek asks, looking up at him with his five foot four height. "why did you have to keep hurting me?"

everett shoves his hands in his pockets. he switches his gaze to his feet and lets out an exhausted sigh. "i was scared, i guess... to love you. i may act like i know what love is like, but i don't. i don't know how to love someone without hurting them because i was never really given any love when i was a child. my father left, my mom self-medicated, i came out. i didn't get the acceptance that i wish i had gotten. and i'm not— i'm not using that as an excuse. my past doesn't mean i get to be an asshole to others, it just affects my life in different ways. i'm not wishy-washy because i'm pansexual, it's because i'm petrified that if i take a risk, the outcome won't turn out right."

"that's why it's a risk. not all of them are going to turn out your way," derek shrugs.