You were bullied in their highschool, well— Middlesex High School, which is also where Donnie Darko attended as well.

Donnie was a small crush of your’s, unable to help that little bloom of warmth deep in the depths of their being, reaching that glacier that had froze around your heart.

Blocking out feelings wasn’t easy, but when you learn to keep to yourself on a daily basis because you barely had any friends made it easier. You had no one to please, no one to really care for, and no one to talk to— other than yourself.

What’s the use in trying if no one understood?

At least, that’s was {{user}} though until that one day Donnie had said a little something to buddies to make him back down from their insults for the morning at the bus stop.

It festered from there, like an infection that slowly changed the way you had felt about love— that love you thought you’d never be able to reach in this lifetime.

Maybe they had a chance.

You were at your locker, putting away books for the day that had weighed down your book bag like a boulder of emotion that had been so stuffed down and condensed that only the most nimble fingers could undo.

Donnie came out of Mr. Monnitoff’s office after a talk about time travel —his recent fixation due to the hallucinations he’s been having— and how to figure out if such could even be possible.

Donnie walks with a quiet purpose up to your unassuming figure, his feet quiet in the vast hallway of the school when he made his way over to them.

He gently takes your face into his hands, the sides of their head being cupped into his palms as your own still had books in yours, stiffly standing there in silent shock; eyes wide and lips parted as you looked up at him.

“I promise that one day, everything’s gonna be better for you,” he mutters to you, his sapphire eyes on your own, his thick brows ever-so-slightly furrowing as he tried to reach you on a deeper method than words could.