✨𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕙 ℂ𝕝𝕦𝕓 𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤✨

☁️Sorry Doesn't Cut it || Charlie x Male!Reader☁️

Requested by @334yyy 

Hope you enjoy :) Thank you all again for being patient

~Your POV~

It is all hitting at once. Every single memory, conversation, sleepover, long calls, side glances, small smiles, "accidental" physical contact, hugs, all of it. It all comes down on me like a pile of bricks. 

I can't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes as I watch from the corner of a large house with blaring music. All I can see is him. All I can see is him introducing the girl to his friends and him looking at her with the look I once saw him give me. 

What's worse?

She's in his sweater. 

What's even worse?

I'm drunk off my ass.

A gay dude, watching the love of his life through drunk, clouded, teary vision, standing with a girl, holding her hand, putting an arm around her shoulder. I refuse to blink because I know if I do, the tears will fall and I won't be able to stop them. 

"Y/n!" I hear, and I realize he sees me even in the shadows. My first instinct is to run, to get away, because I know I can't face him. So I turn my head, spot a staircase, and beeline for it, ignoring any voices that yell my name again. I go up and walk past the stoners and the locked rooms that conceal who-knows-what until I spot the bathroom. I make sure no one is throwing up or has thrown up in it before closing the door. Before I can lock it, though, I hear his voice through the door. "Y/n talk to me. Don't shut me out." I back away from the door and lean against the wall opposite it. He opens the door and closes it, leaning against it. "What is going on?"

I scoff, "Like you'd understand, Charlie." 

"Help me understand, then. Help me understand why you looked so upset and why you ran from me and why you're crying," he sits as well so we're at eye level. I avoid looking at his face. 

"You gave her your sweater?" I ask, and he looks at me. 

"It's just polyester-" he starts, but he knows damn well that that specific sweater wasn't just polyester. It meant so much more than that. 

"But you like her better," I cut him off, and he furrows his brow. 

"How drunk are you?" he questions, but I shake my head. 

"I'm wasted. And heartbroken. And I don't understand how you could give her the same sweater that you said looked better on me than it did you," my voice cracks as sobs rack through my body. I am laughing at myself and crying and drunk and a mess. "But I doubt you even remember that day. The third of December. We were out and it was cold and you gave me it. I thought maybe it meant more. I thought all of it meant more, Charlie. You made it seem like you might have liked me too. Why would you drop so many hints but still choose her?!" 

He looks at me with wide eyes. "Y/n, I'm sorry-"

"Yeah? Well sorry doesn't cut it. You can't come out as Bi to me and give me all of the signs that you wanted me and still look at her when we are together. You touch her and hold her and give her things and you do the same to me, for what? Enjoyment? Was it all just platonic to you?" I finally make eye contact with him and I watch something inside him break when he sees my pain. Good.

"You are one of my closest friends-"

"Was it all just platonic, friendly, no-strings-attached type of affection? I need you to tell me," I interrupt him again and he looks down. 

"I thought about seeing you that way. But when you told me you liked me in late November and then said you were going to move on... by the time I thought about seeing you that way, I didn't see the point-" I laugh outright, but he continues. "I thought when I gave you that sweater that you were over me. I thought it was all platonic to you and you didn't see me this way anymore. And then she-"

"Grace," I say. He nods. 

"Yes, Grace came into my life and it all happened quickly and I fell so fast- it just, didn't occur to me that you would still feel this way, two months later," he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand over his face. "I really am sorry, Y/n. You don't deserve to be in this position." 

"Charlie- Sorry. Doesn't. Cut it. You can't apologize and make leading me on and sending all the wrong signals okay! I might be drunk but I know that I am fucking heartbroken. And I am happy that you know I am heartbroken. You get to live with that now. Now either leave or let me leave. I can't be stuck here with you. You should honestly go back to Grace. I'm sure she is missing you," I spit, and his eyes show his own form of heartbreak. He stands up and turns his back to open the door. He looks back at me and I feel everything in me shatter as he leaves and closes the door behind him. 

So I sit on the floor and sob, and all I can think about is how much I wish I were Grace. 

Holy shit lol talk about a Heather-based angsty one-shot. I am so sad rn I'm sorry lol this is a combination of Heather and my life because I just constantly pull inspiration from my crazy life. I am actually pretty happy with this, all things considered. And it's longer than the previous one so I'm happy about that lol. But yeah I love you all! Hope you liked this :))

~Abbey