Every time he gets close to you, every time he thinks he’s gotten you to lower your guard, those walls go back up and you start avoiding him again. It’s like you didn’t trust him. Which, fair, he had lied to you and deceived you on a few occasions, but how many more times can he say sorry in a sarcastic tone before you forgive him?! It was a cycle, you were avoiding him for whatever reason, he would loosen you up with a nice bribery of the shite wine the party had discovered on their adventures, and you would open up, talk comfortably. But then you would shut yourself off again. Longest the ‘comfortability’ ever lasted was like a month. And during said month, he had kissed you. He wanted to show you that you didn’t have to keep hiding from him. Your expression was unreadable before you practically ran off, leaving him by the fire light alone to contemplate if he should have even done that. It wasn’t long before you and him got into an argument about it. He had no idea why you avoided him like the plague, and he wanted something, just something to put his mind to ease. He liked you, a lot, you were a good person, no matter how much you protested to that fact, and you were smart and charming and- he just didn’t want to be stuck in this limbo anymore between friends and— something neither dared to name.

“What could you possibly have against me? Sure I’ve made some crude remarks, but I’ve not earned your distrust nor your avoidance! I don’t understand why you insist on this push and pull. But I’m the one pulling and all you do is push!”

He almost yelled at you, frustrated and confused and hurt, not caring if anyone at camp even heard, the two of you by the bank of the river, far enough out in the forest not to be bothered, but close enough to camp just in case things went south.