Boyf Riends and Treebros Oneshots

Treebros- Jealous

I've had an awful day and so I said to myself "let's go home and write some really angry fanfiction" so that's what I did.

Evan's pov:

I'm still amused by the v: face by the way

He's talking to other boys. Prettier boys. Boys who are better than me. I feel the jealousy flare up inside me and I hate it. I have no reason to be jealous. I mean, it's not like he likes those boys, is it? There only better than me in every way, shape and form.

He looks over at me and smiles. He does this sweet thing where he tilts his head slightly and puts his thumb up to ask if I'm ok but, he didn't do that this time. I smile back even though I don't mean it. Even though I don't want to.

They're laughing and joking and I feel like I'm on the outside. I guess that's because I am. Ugh. And the way he says his name: he says it better than mine.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

I wish I didn't feel like this and I wish I were less insecure and I wish I were more trusting. Well, it's not that I don't trust him. I know he's not going to go home with one of those boys and watch movies all swaddled in blankets or make them breakfast in the mornings or let them braid his hair because he loves me. And I know that, he tells me every chance he gets. It's sweet but it does begin to lose it's meaning after a while.

I'm not very good at this. Can you tell? This whole having a boyfriend thing is really strange- I'm not allowed to make jokes about nobody ever loving me anymore like the average cringy teen does because there is someone who actually does love me. But, I'm not very good at saying it back. I mean, I'll say it but I think when I say it first he should know that's it's more special because I hardly ever do. I reserve it for moments where I feel a surge of love for him, as odd as that sounds.

Compliments are bad as well. I suck at complimenting him. I suck at complimenting him out loud. In my head I say loads of nice things about him. I'm constantly thinking about how good he looks all the time of how nice he smells or how sweet he is. However, saying it is completely different. What happens is I think of the words but I can't get them to actually come out of my mouth. But the words get stuck in my throat. I know they say that in ever cheesy rom-com novel and fanfic ever but is the best way I know how to describe it. Because it's not like the words aren't there, it's that they are there and not being said.

What's another thing I'm bad at? Kissing. I'm so short and he's so tall that kissing when standing is just inconvenient. I'm wobbling on the tips of my toes and he's stooping as far as his spine will allow and I'm still only just tall enough. He wouldn't have this problem if he dated one of those boys. I don't really know what I'm doing either, I tend to just make it up as I go along and hope for the best and that's it's not so awful that I'm putting him off kissing for life. I bet those other boys know how to kiss.

And I'm the wrong shape. I'm skinny and fat in all the wrong places and he's perfect. They all are. I'd put money on the fact that those boys go to the gym and work out and eat good food. And I'm here looking like a formless blob.

Another thing is forms of affection. He's so verbally affectionate, like, he tells me that he loves me with words. But, I can't do that. I tell him with actions. A held hand under a table or cuddling with him while we watch a movie is my way of saying "I love you" but I don't think he knows it. Him, on the other hand, he's so bad at being physically affectionate. He fumbles and gets nervous that he's going to do something wrong. But, equally that means that if he does hold my hand unprovoked or rest his head on mine I know it means something to him.

The bell rings. I kinda forgot I was in class. Ugh that lesson went so slow and I got nothing done and now I'm behind and I struggle to keep up anyway so we're slightly screwed.
He walks up to me and snakes an arm around my waist. "Hey baby," he says into my hair.
"Hi, Connie." I reply. Note the period. Period? Is that what you call it? We call it a full stop. Ya know the little dot at the end of the sentence? Note that.
"Something's wrong. What's up?" He asks.

As you can imagine, I tend to keep my jealous fits to myself. I don't say anything about it to anyone or anything or write it down or anything. The only record of it is my memory.

"Nothing, I'm fine." I smile at him.
"Well then, if you say so." He holds me a little tighter, knowing but not wanting to push any further.

"I love you so much."

Yeet

Channeling my inner jealous bitch into something that isn't breaking stuff.

Even though breaking stuff is still the most fun way of de-angering yourself as far as I'm aware.

Am I the only one that thinks this is more angsty than normal? Also more cringe worthy. I had to delete and rewrite so much of this because people would have imploded from the cringe if I'd actually published it :)

Also my English teacher has made me really conscious of my writing so if it's super different that's why :( 'tis unpleasant.