One Shots With My Ships

Troyler

Warning- this story will involve self harm.

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I'd never understand how Troye could be openly gay and not let the things people said damage him. He was so strong and powerful. I love him. I love him with all my heart. But I wasn't brave enough to tell anyone that I was gay, or that I loved him so much. Just because I wasn't out yet, didn't mean that I wasn't still bullied like hell. They teased me about everything. My hair, my walk, the way I talked, my house, my mom. Everything. And it sucked. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't stand to be here anymore, feeling so unwanted and unloved. Which was why I picked up that blade for the first time two months ago. Of course, I didn't tell Troye. He was one of my only friends and I didn't want him to look at me with pity. That was the last thing I wanted. But I also knew that this time, standing in front of the mirror, crying my heart out, was different. I knew that the first cut had been too deep, but I also didn't care enough to stop. I wanted this. I wanted to die. But I knew Troye would be heart broken. So I did the only thing I thought I could do. I texted him.

To: Troye

I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm not strong like you are. I can't do this. So if this is the last thing I get to say, I'm gonna say it all. Troye, I love you. I love you so much that it fucking hurts. I don't have the courage to come out of the closet, but it doesn't matter now.. I'm so sorry Troye. And I really hope that one day, you'll forgive me.

And I waited. Five minutes without a response from him. I sighed in defeat. This was it. That was my goodbye, and now I had nothing holding me back. I grabbed my blade again and began to drag it up my arm, instead of across, knowing there was no way the doctors could save me if I cut deep enough, before the sound of my phone went off. Someone was calling me. Now? Of all times? I sighed and picked it up, hating the way my heart sank when I saw Troyes name light up on the screen. I answered it, putting the phone to my ear. "Hello-"

"Tyler?! Oh my god! I just got out of my sisters game. Are you okay?" I sniffled loudly. "Tyler? You're not okay. I'm coming over-"

"Don't!" I shrieked into the phone. Out of all the people to find me, I didn't want it to be him. "Please Troye, don't."

"Why not?" God, this boy was clueless.

"Because I-"

"You are not going to tell me you're in love with me, and then fucking leave. Wanna know why?"

"W-why?"

"Because I've wanted to hear you say that since day one, and I'll be damned if I let you go." Wait, what? "Tyler, please. Let me-"

"No!" I choked back a sob.

"Tyler, god damn it! If you fucking do this, I'll be right after you!" I abruptly hung up, not wanting to believe him. I quickly grabbed the blade again, ignoring the way my phone was endlessly ringing. I could do this. I had to. My hand was shaking and I was feeling very light headed. I was about to make what I hoped to be my final cut, that would end everything, when I heard the door slam open. "Tyler?! Where are you?!" I groaned. Fuck. Why didn't he ever listen to me? "Tyler?! Fucking hell, please Tilly?!" My heart broke at the broken sound of his voice as he yelled my nickname he gave me the first day we met.

"Troye?" I squeaked, knowing I couldn't finish my task. I couldn't do anything right.

"Tilly!" He yelled, running into my bathroom. I slowly turned to face him, hating the way his beautiful face was flushed of any color. "Dear god, Tilly." He panted. What had I done? I looked down at my still heavily bleeding wrist, suddenly feeling very ashamed.

"Troye, I-I'm so sorry." I dropped the blade, shrinking away from him.

"Tilly, baby, no. Come here." He opened his arms and I hesitated before slowly walking over to him. He wrapped me in his arms, leaning down and kissing my forehead. "Tilly, why?" He whispered after a few minutes of silence.