SMITTEN🌹⌠J.T⌡

xiii

happy [very] late valentine's day! [it's still the first half of march]

(i was in physics class which is why i look dead inside)

⚜️🌹⚜️

FEBRUARY WAS NEVER Josh's favorite month. It was short for, like, no reason; it couldn't decide if it was still Winter or if it would embrace Spring yet (then the blame is placed on some random ass groundhog?); plus, there were, like, zero days off—not counting president's day, because he didn't give a fuck about those racist, power hungry, white dudes.

And, God, don't get him started on Valentine's Day; talk about a load of shit. Valentine's Day was named after some saint nobody remembered and was a scam invented by Wall Street—to sell as many flowers and chocolates as humanly fucking possible—and happy couples who liked to shove said happiness in everyone else's sad, lonely faces.

Ah, yes, February was a big ole' pile of bullshit, at least in Josh's mind. On the fated morning of the 14th, the yellow-haired boy swung his leg over the seat of his motorcycle, preparing himself for a day of trudging around pretending to be unaffected by the goo-goo eyes and not-so-subtle brushes of hands in disgustingly intimate public displays of affection, pretending he didn't want exactly that. He didn't want to give someone grossly sappy hand-kisses or heart-shaped chocolate boxes, didn't want to woo someone with a bouquet of roses, and he didn't want to have someone crying out underneath him during mind-blowing sex (read: lovemaking).

He didn't. Seriously.

Resigning himself to his loneliness, Josh hardened his scowl and stuffed his pockets with his fists, playing with a hole in the lining. This Valentine's Day would be the same as everyone that came before it: he would be irritable all day at school, grumpy and frustrated with his own miserable existence, go home and cry like a bitch for an hour, then furiously jerk off with his free premium PornHub.

He was 19, okay? Give him a fucking break. His life was the equivalent to a literal pile of shit; he was allowed to be a little pathetic sometimes. The only good thing about Valentine's Day was the 50% off candy the week after.

And then there was Tyler.

Their weird little flirt-fighting was... well it was going well, whatever the hell that meant. It had been a month or so since their little heartfelt conversation on the roof, and they were back to their usual selves: teasing and snarling and purring like a pair of courting tigers. It was sort of gross actually.

Josh fucking loved it.

There was a certain softness that hadn't been there before. The fluttering eyelashes and the bitten lips suddenly felt a lot more genuine. It felt... relieving—and, yes, Josh was aware of how grossly pitiful that sounded.