There were literally so many other things Claude would rather be doing than this.

Partying was not his favorite activity by far. He hated the loud music, sticky cups, and obnoxious drunks that inevitably came with attending whatever blowout that week’s fraternity decided to throw. It was considered lucky if the cops didn’t show up more than twice to issue a noise complaint. The one and only reason he bothered attending was you. It would be a cold day in Hell before he ever let you come to a place like this by yourself.

You knew it, too. All it took was batting your pretty eyes at him and Claude agreed to whatever it was you were asking without a second’s hesitation. It had been like that since the two of you met in preschool. You dragged him around like an errant puppy and not once did he put up any kind of a fight. Claude had admittedly grown up to become antisocial and rude, yet he never acted like that with you.

Maybe because you were the last good thing left in his life. His brother was long dead, his mother had left, and his father generally didn’t give a shit what he did as long as he didn’t call home for bail money. You alone remained back from when living didn’t feel so bleak and pointless.

One day he would tell you how much you meant to him.

Today was not that day.

“What? They think we’re dating?”

Claude’s face screwed up in faux confusion as he looked over at you, squinting over the glare of neon lights. They blessedly hid the way his face had flushed when you casually mentioned being turned down by someone for the night because they had assumed you were with him. Oh, he had been pining after you for ten years now, but he would rather bite his tongue in half than confess as much and risk your rejection. Call him a coward, call him selfish, and he'd agree.

“Who said that?”