It had started raining a little before I got to Dustin's house. Though looking at it now, I shouldn't have gone out in the first place. I had already forgotten why I thought it was a such a good idea to be out this late in the first place.
I hugged myself as I stood at Dustin's door and watched him unlock and open the door. His face showed sympathy that was so desperately trying to be covered up with annoyance. I walked in and stood on the rug.
"Dustin-" I tried but was quickly stopped
"No. Stop." Dustin said and looked at me eye to eye. "You have not only hurt Will emotionally but you have hurt him physically and no I'm not talking about the whole El thing. That wasn't you're fault. The sneaking into his room and cornering him is what really..." He made his hands into fists and breathed slowly
"You ignore him, you bring him back, you love him, you ignore him again, you kiss him and ditch him but if he does something so slightly similar, you act as if he just ripped your whole heart out. I just don't understand you, Mike! What do you want from him?! What do YOU fucking want, Mike?! You're pushing him closer and closer to the edge with your bullshit. Don't you ever think of someone other than yourself? I mean, who the hell are you anymore, Mike? Will was your bestfriend! You two did everything together now only you just fuck around with him as if he was a board game. What is wrong with you?!" Dustin said.
"You can't do this to him. You need to stop, Mike. Please. He's in the hospital for your actions and not mention that you kissed him even though you are in a relationship with El. He tore himself apart because of it and you're just sleeping perfectly as if nothing fucking happened. El needs to know and you need to fix things with Will and I mean now. Lucas needs an apology. Max needs an apology and so do I." Dustin finished with his arms crossed.
I opened my mouth to speak but quickly shut it. This gave him time to grab an extra pair of pj's and blankets and out them on the couch.
I really didn't know what to say and I couldn't get over the shock. I just needed warmth and sleep. I got into the pj's and went into the couch and blankets.
"I'm really sorry, Dustin." I said before he turned the corner into his room.
"I hope so." He answered.
YOU ARE READING
My notebook (Byler)
General FictionDrawing has always helped me and so did writing but why doesn't it help me when I write about you or even draw you?