A Player's First Choice // Stenbrough

030 / A good Type of Different

"Don't feel sorry. He was an ass anyway. That's why I don't date anymore."

++++

—Wednesday / 6:15 am

"Get off of me weirdo." I hear a giggle. Opening my eyes lay a sleeping Richie. "Richie?" "Hmm?" He opens his eyes slowly. "Hi, love." He smiles gently before snuggling onto my chest.

"When did you get in here?" "Bill and I switched places like an hour ago." His morning voice making my cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Oh." Richie lets go of me as I stand up, wandering through the hallway.

There stands Bill hugging Eddie, kissing his neck gently as the boy giggles. "You'll wake up the others if you continue to laugh," Bill smirks before stopping. "Well never mind." He walks past me.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up." He giggles pulling a shirt over his head. "It's...fine?" I walk away, finding a shirtless Bill in the kitchen.

"Morning," I mumble walking past him. "What's wrong with you?" He furrows his brows, standing up from the fridge.

"I'm fine. Just tired." I chuckle pouring a cup of coffee. "That's a lie." He tilts his head slightly. "No. It's not. I'm gonna go get ready." I walk past him, but instead, he grabs onto my wrist.

"For real. What's wrong?" "Nothing Bill. I'm fine. Promise." I smile as he lets go of my wrist.

—Wednesday / lunch

"He thought I was lying to him. I wasn't." I furrow my brows while grabbing my food.

"He can usually tell when someone's lying. He always catches people in lies." "Well, he's wrong." I chuckle, sitting next to him.

His hand plants on my thigh gently. "I'm never wrong about liars you know? Well. I have once." "What happened?" My heart rate quickens as he squeezes my knees slightly.

"My first ever ex. Well, my last. He said he loved me. He lied." "Oh..." "Don't feel sorry. He was an ass anyway. That's why I don't date anymore."

"That's what you're-" "A player? A horrible person? Yeah. Pretty much." He shrugs.

"You're not a horrible person Bill. It's just the way you act that can make it seem like that. Promise me."

His fingers interlocked with mine. For some reason. This feels different.

A good type of different

The type of different you feel when you're happy.

The different you feel when you have a crush.

I don't have a crush on him.

Do I?

Oh no. Maybe I do?