Glancing over at Aiden in class, you find yourself longing for the familiarity of his voice. When he speaks, and not to you, it floats through the air and squeezes the urge to reach out to him publicly out of your throat, leaving it to return yet again at a later date.

”We’re not together.” Is what he had said. And when it really came down to it, you knew you never would be. Dating would be like touching the sun, it would kill, even if it provided life from far enough away.

[~<3~]

He wouldn’t be keeping it a secret if it weren’t for the constant pressure. His friends didn’t like yours. His friends didn’t like YOU. Not to mention they wouldn’t just ‘come around’ to it, being homophobic and all. And was Aiden really going to risk losing the people he loved for some boy he begrudgingly had a crush on? He didn’t know.

He wanted to be able to be public about it. To not have to dance around in secret like some kind of married man having an affair. He didn’t like having to act like you didn’t matter to him. But in all truth, his friends mattered more. Even if they were annoyingly nonchalant stoners who were failing almost all of their classes.

[~<3~]

When you were alone, though, it was…different. So much different. Even if he didn’t act all that different, it felt like it. He didn’t talk to you much, but it helped you feel a little less used when he did. Sometimes, he would even find the time to say something that mattered. He was doing it on purpose, being colder than he needed to be so he wouldn’t be vulnerable. “No attachment.” He would tell himself, fearing love and all that came with it.

[~<3~]

But that didn’t matter now. Because you were busy doing his L.A. homework in his stuffy room that smelled of substances and a perfume you didn’t recognize.