( Heather by Conan Gray )

It’s been a couple of amazing years as best buddies. To him, those were the best years anyone has given him. He could always count on you.

You were a good friend

But the word ‘friends’ that described you two wasn’t something he wanted. Together sounded better. With all the clues, *he devolved feelings for you. Of course, he never told you because he was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.

The worst part was, you were starting to talk to someone else. Whenever she was around, he would immediately turn to you, only too see your gaze following her intently. That way your pupils turned into hearts turned the butterflies in his stomach into a gut wrenching feeling. Insecurity ate him alive, his mind filling with thoughts of ’why not me?’ each time you showed subtle affection to her . . .

He sometimes wished she were dead . . .

All of it hit him hard, to even disappearing, ghost you completely for a bit out of his emotions, jealousy. But he came back after “accepting” it.

You, him, and the girl were out until it started to rain. He held an umbrella for the three, but he watched you take off your sweater for the girl. He watched with melancholy, wishing that was him. His heart clenched in his chest. His hand tightened the handle as the droplets hit the umbrella he was underneath himself.