You Make Me Sick [ Staig ]

-6-You Make Me Sick-6-

"I fucking hate you, Stan. I wish I hadn't fallen for you in the first place."
The words hung in the air like a coat of thorns, threatening to come crashing down and make them both meet their long waited demise. Stan looked up at the ravenette from where he had been shoved onto the ground, wishing he could just sink into the floor to escape the icy blue eyes of the boy standing over him. Then suddenly, it was over. Craig walked away with a pang in his head and his chest, arms numb with adrenaline.
Meanwhile, Stan was dumbfounded. The back of his throat tasted bitter, like the words he was holding back to try and call the boy back were just bile he pathetically left to rot.
He fucked up. Things weren't supposed to turn out like this.
Stan stood reluctantly, as if he were ashamed to even get back up on his own two feet. It irked him to even think about what had happened beforehand.
To summarize, they ran into Wendy while Stan tried taking him somewhere nice. The only problem was that Stans sexuality could absolutely not be found out. Stan made damn sure that aspect of him stayed locked away. Wendy, who obviously wasn't over him, took advantage to be on her 'best behaviour' and flirt with the noirette as much as she could. Right in front of Craig. It seemed she knew damn well what Craig was thinking in that moment and ended up saying a snarky remark that basically translated to; "back off, he'll never love someone like you." and Stan could do nothing but sit there and return the kiss Wendy forced on him, before she pranced off.
Everything he told Craig about his relationship with Wendy was taken as a lie before he could even explain himself.
He hated himself for being a coward.
He didn't even know how to explain what happened to Craig, he doubted he would get another chance to prove things to him either due to his title of a sick liar anyways. Stan couldn't help but feel the dread seeping in his stomach rise up to his throat, but could only manage a hoarse sob.
Did he really like Craig that much? So much that he would cry in the middle of a cold sidewalk for all straying eyes to see?
He choked back his tears and forced down the lump in his throat, despite his heart remaining clenched as if it were being squeezed in the hand of a man that knew no aspect mercy, as cold and harsh as stone.
I think I love him.
His mind spoke to him, causing his incredulous state to falter for a moment. He stared down at the pavement as he processed; was it real?
Then, abruptly, the dread that was sitting in his throat suddenly came out all at once— and he vomited on the sidewalk. Clutching his stomach with one of his hands, he scrunched his nose at the unpleasant sight on the pavement, before using his wrist to slowly wipe the tears from his eyes.
"Fuck."