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SANTA TELL ME ! jorbyn
IN WHICH ! jonah there for corbyn after he gets his heart broken just before christmas ; angsty fluff
SONG ! santa tell me - ariana grande
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corbyn wished he could forget all the past memories the came with the sight of the mistletoe, he wished he could look at all the christmas decorations adorning store fronts without tears clouding his eyes, he wished he could run out into the snow without physically feeling pain bubble in his chest.
james and corbyn had been together for as long as anyone could remember, both brunettes having been dubbed the "it couple". having had entered the spotlight early on in their relationship, the two were forced to maintain a perfect image, despite their feelings that were constantly on the rocks.
don't get him wrong, james loved, loves, corbyn, the brunette was just pretty terrible at showing it lately. at the beginning of their relationship, james was so sweet, constantly showering the younger brunette with gentle touches, boxed chocolates, flowers–the perfect relationship. but lately, the older brunette had become cold, his once gentle touches now harsh and rushed, the boxed chocolates now stale and melted, the flowers welted, buried dead in the lawn.
corbyn didn't know what he did wrong, he didn't remember doing anything to hurt the boy, nor break his trust. it seemed like the change had happened overnight. corbyn was a loyal boyfriend, and an even more loyal friend; when everyone else had their suspicions about james' "friend", corbyn defended them, insisting james would never cheat on him, when everyone else was worried about all the secrets james kept, corbyn refused to believe james would ever betray his trust. when everyone swore corbyn was naïve, the brunette didn't pay attention to it, claiming he just believed in his boyfriend.
if only he knew, if only he knew that james didn't love him as much as corbyn believed he did, if only he knew james had a reason for all his secrecy, a reason for getting so angry when corbyn would ask to take pictures on his phone. his friends had a reason to worry, they saw what corbyn was blinded by, they saw who james really was.
the night corbyn found his boyfriend in bed with the "friend" james swore meant nothing to him, the brunette couldn't remember the last time he had been in that much pain. he remembered the way james scrambled out of the covers, cautiously approaching the smaller brunette, swearing up and down that it was an accident, that it meant nothing. but corbyn wasn't stupid, though he felt like it as tears spilled down his cheeks pathetically, he knew it wasn't an accident, he'd known his friends were right, he didn't want to believe it, he couldn't.
