Sweet Heart [Editing?]

002

Ambrose's muscles seemed to scream at him for moving the next morning. He groaned in response as he pushed himself out of bed. That's...strange. He didn't remember going back to his room, or even moving from his spot the day (days?) before. He looked bleary-eyed around his room, staring at the lump on the floor before realizing it was a whole ass person. He saw the blonde hair-and realized.
"Sep?" He croaked, clearing his throat as he lifted himself off the bed. There was nothing but snores from the pile of blankets as he shrugged his own off his shoulders. He stared at him for a second, wondering if he knew. If Alastair had told him. He wouldn't, right? Yeah, right.

He quietly, and painfully, slid out of the bed. His body begging him to stay in bed. Despite this, he shuffled over to his dresser and pulled out his favourite outfit.

Once he was finished getting ready, he left the room. The last glance he gave to the sleeping mound of blankets on the floor held nothing but longing. He'd like to be snuggled up to the man, all warm and cuddly and content in his huge, muscular arms. Ah, there's those thoughts again.
He internally rolled his eyes at himself as he stuffed his hands into his jogger pockets. How silly. Why would he even be interested? He was a wiry sort of guy with horrid ginger hair and freckles as if an artist had flicked paint up his nose and forehead.

Rose had told him time and time again that he was very pretty, and would pinch his chin between her fingers and shake his head. He'd always laugh and playfully bat her hands away and she'd say, 'Ambrose, any boy would love to date you." For a while he believed it until his curls would fall into his eyes and his chest would start burning, and he'd be reminded that he was an experiment, not a human. Just something someone wanted to destroy, to break.

And now he really did like someone. So, in short, he was fucked either way.

"Ambrose!" He turned, biting his thumb nail as he watched the blonde hurry up to him. He turned away from the obvious worry in Sep's lips, and eyes, almost wincing as he spoke,
"Is everything okay? Al had to carry you to your room..." He watched as he shifted his weight to one foot and how he stared down at him waiting for an answer. He sighed softly, and gave a small nod. This did nothing to reassure Sep.
"Are you sure, because..." He took a breath, looking away from Ambrose as he searched for words, "Because you scared me. I thought maybe something happened."

Ambrose wanted to tell him. To tell him he wasn't fine, and something did happen. But he couldn't. It was like his throat swelled up and his voice didn't work anymore. His throat felt full of dandelions. Itchy, and his voice muffled. If he spoke about his past, he'd choke on flowers.
"Yeah, I'm okay." It made him sound quiet and scared. He hated it. He hated the way Sep looked at him after he spoke and the little noise of pity he made.
"I mean, cause you kind of ran off yesterday-And I know I did a stupid thing," he slid his hand back into his pocket as Sep looked at it for a little too long. Ambrose just tried holding his gaze.

With a loud sigh, Sep licked his lips hurriedly and started in on him,
"Ambrose, please. We've been inseparable for five years. You can trust me. You know you can." He wasn't looking at Sep anymore but instead at the floor.
"I know you, Ambrose." This caught his attention. his gaze fixed on Septimus. Oh, he hated those words. He hated the way he said it. He didn't know him. He knew the façade he put up for him. He didn't know Ambrose. Sep couldn't read his expression.
"What?" He mumbled, blinking at Ambrose's hard stare.

"You could never know me." He regretted it as soon as the last syllable crashed from his lips. He hated himself so fully and felt so guilty as Sep's expression changed from worry, to confusion-to hurt. Ambrose internally begged the latter of the two to say something, anything. Even making a noise would suffice. But he didn't. He simply chewed the inside of his lip, nodded solemnly, and turned away from the trembling boy in front of him.
"Sep, I didn't-"

"Don't," the once gentle man growled out a noise so unfamiliar to Ambrose that he choked up again, and was left in the hallway by himself. Alone.