Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

Wheeler's First Crush

"Eeek, I can't believe we're actually having a girls night," Priscilla squealed, rummaging through her things as Wheeler awkwardly sat at the edge of her bed. He'd come to her room to ask for advice and somehow it had turned into Priscilla thinking they were about to have some sort of gossip infused sleepover.

"Well, I guess it really isn't a girls night since you're a boy," Priscilla continued, finally removing what looked like a massive jar of sparkling purple goop. "But I've always wanted to do one of these, and I don't really have any female friends. Besides, you're gentle and non-threatening enough for it to be practically the same thing."

"Oh, um...thanks...?" Wheeler stammered, hoping that was a compliment.

Priscilla plopped onto the bed now, the jar still in hand. "You wanna do face-masks?" She wiggled the jar.

Oh. So that's what that was.

Wheeler swallowed hard.

Honestly, he didn't really want that thing even remotely close to his face. But Priscilla just seemed so excited about this whole girls night thing that he'd feel awful saying no.

"Uh...sure," Wheeler answered nervously.

Priscilla grinned, reaching into the jar before she began smearing its contents across Wheeler's face. He cringed at the cold gooey feeling, its lavender scent nearly suffocating.

"So," Priscilla said, continuing to carefully spread it across his cheeks, "tell me what you wanted to gossip about."

"It's not gossip, not really," Wheeler admitted. "Um..." he thought for a moment, trying his best to figure out how to word this. "Priscilla, have you had a lot of crushes?"

"Oooooooh! Crush talk!" Priscilla squealed. "That's even better!" She finally removed her hands from Wheeler's face, grabbing another handful to smudge across her own. "Yeah, I suppose I've had my fair share. Frances was always the big one since I was a kid, but there were certainly others." She sighed dreamily. "And by others, I mean pretty much any tall, dark haired girl in existence." She grinned which looked vaguely horrifying on her goo covered face. "I'm a simple girl with simple tastes. You know how it is."

Wheeler shook his head. "Uh...actually, I don't really. That's kinda my problem."

Priscilla's eyes widened excitedly. "Wheeler," she gasped, "do you have a crush on someone?"

"I think so," Wheeler mumbled, his gaze flickering to the floor. "But, maybe I'm wrong. This stuff is pretty new to me."

"Well," Priscilla said, leaning back against her massive wall of plushies, "how exactly do you feel about them?"

Wheeler thought for a moment. "When I'm around them," he began softly, "my heart starts beating super fast, and it's hard for me to breath or think, and my body feels super warm and my insides feel all mushy."

"Yep. That's a crush alright."

"Dang it," Wheeler mumbled.

"But there's nothing wrong with that," Priscilla said, leaning forward. "We're hormonal teenagers. It's only natural. Honestly, I'm almost jealous it took you so long to have one. God, imagine all the heartbreak I could have saved last summer if I didn't find literally every girl that looked at me attractive." She let out another wistful sigh. "You're so lucky you're a boy. You'll probably have way more success with girls than me."

Wheeler swallowed hard.

"So," Priscilla practically cooed, "who is the girl?"

"Wha!? What girl?"

"Your crush!" Priscilla said, giving him a little nudge. "Who is she?"

Wheeler found himself unable to meet her gaze. "I don't know if I should say. They're uh... someone I definitely shouldn't have a crush on."

"Ooooh," Priscilla gasped. "Well now I'm even more curious." She thought for a moment, her eyes suddenly widening. "Aha! I know who it is!"

"Wha--"

"It's Violet? Right?"

Wheeler was so surprised he nearly toppled backwards into the stuffed animals. "Violet?!" he squeaked.

"Ugh, now I see why you wouldn't want to tell me. Violet's the worst. Hot. But the worst. You can do so much better."

"It's not Violet," Wheeler finally managed to stammer.

"Oh," Priscilla said, confusion creeping into her voice. "Then who?"

Wheeler didn't say anything, staring blankly down at his hands.

"Unless," Priscilla said slowly, "...oh my god, it's not a girl, is it?"

Wheeler felt his face go warm and despite the fact that it was hidden by the face-mask, the gasp from Priscilla was enough to confirm she knew.

"So then who would it..." her mouth suddenly dropped open, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. "No," she gasped.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Wheeler whimpered, burying his face in his hands.

"You could've picked anyone but him, Wheeler. Literally anyone."

"Is it really that bad?"

"Yes," Priscilla said, confirming what Wheeler unfortunately already knew. "It's really bad."

"Oh, um...okay. Just give me a second," Wheeler mumbled, removing one of Priscilla's pillows from the pile. He immediately shoved it against his face, loudly screaming into it. Following this, he slowly lowered it once more. "Sorry about that. I'm uh...very stressed out about this."

"It's okay," Priscilla said awkwardly. "But you do realize you still have a face-mask on, right?"

"Ohmygosh! I'm so sorry!" Wheeler gasped.

"Don't worry, I have like a million others. And speaking of others..." she sighed heavily. "There's plenty of other guys out there."

Wheeler's shoulders sagged, still clutching the pillow tightly.

"We both know what Mulock's feelings about romance are," Priscilla said, her gaze darting to the floor. "He's going to break your heart if you pursue this. And I just...I can't bear to see you hurt like that."

"Yeah," Wheeler replied, his voice quiet. "I know. I've always known. Maybe that's why I just kept bottling it up for so long." His mouth felt dry, a terrible tightness building in his chest. "I understand it's impossible he could ever return my feelings but I...I just...I don't know how to make them stop."

A sad, understanding expression had fallen across Priscilla's face and she reached out, gently resting a hand on his shoulder.

"He's your first love, and your first love always hurts," she said softly. "Believe me, I've been there and it's awful." Her mouth tightened into a thin line. "Especially for people like us."

Silence fell between them, both briefly lost in their own thoughts for a moment.

"It'll fade eventually," Priscilla finally said. "But, Wheeler...the longer you let yourself fall, the harder your heart is going to break."

She was right. He was starting to plummet for the first time in his life and the feeling was utterly terrifying.

He had to stop before it was too late. Mulock would never be able to want him the way Wheeler needed him to.

He mustn't fall further.

And yet...despite this he knew these warnings would soon fade into oblivion the moment the demon's eyes found his again.