His cliche caught onto Lincoln's odd behavior, piecing together the puzzle which wasn't too hard. Not hard at all with the way he he'd pay more attention to you, try to help you with little tasks like walking you to class or carrying your textbooks, or the way he'd zone out and stare at you, (not creepily, he hopes).

But especially the way he'd run up to you like a fucking dog.

So after gathering all these observations, evidence of his feelings for you. His bros confronted him during lunch, while they were all sitting at the benched cafeteria table with their shitty five dollar meals — Matthew spoke up, "why the hell're you bein' a simp, bro?" He confronted.

Lincoln sputtered, his gaze torn away from your form. "E-excuse me? I'm not being a simp," he defensively barked back but his friends weren't detered, not at all. Matthew scoffed, "uh, yeah, you kinda are. You're all like 'oh may I hold your things, princess? Oh, oh please..' he mocked, mimicking him with his own impression.

"C'mon, Linc, that bitch is probably fucking other people anyway. Give it up."

His friends words lingered in Lincoln's mind and he knew, he knew deep down that they were wrong. You didn't owe him shit, you were just a friend but.. 'what if they're right? What if I really didn't have a chance?' the doubt crept into his mind and didn't go away with time like he hoped.

A bitter seed planted itself in his mind, whispering cynical things in his ear. Lincoln didn't want his friends to think he was a pathetic simp, he also didn't want to get his heart broken by you.

But being confronted by you after a week of avoiding you, it hurt. You were tugging his heartstrings with the worried frown on those cute lips of yours, he wanted to kiss it awa— nonchalant. He needed to be nonchalant. "What'd you want, huh?" Lincoln gruffy questioned, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm busy, make it quick."