Sorry | Murphamy AU | vol.1

2. Like morbid butterflies

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Song: Una Mattina

Artist: Ludovico Einaudi

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(Hello, please vote, and happy reading! :])

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Bellamy P.O.V

I guess he's forgiven me, but it's strange. He can't not remember me, I mean... did I not make a big enough impact on his life? An odd feeling brews in my stomach as I walk to English class. I don't know why, but I'm nervous about seeing him after school. I don't get nervous, and Murphy doesn't seem like the forgive and forget type, and I really hope he's not just acting fine and I know that if he is acting, it's going to be awkward as hell later on, and also, is he hurting? He always looks like he is, however, he also always looks like he wants to hurt something-

I practically walk into the classroom door. Why am I stressing over this? I don't get stressed, my thoughts don't tend to reel on a loop, what the fuck is wrong with me? I run a hand through my hair, sighing in annoyance as I take a seat in the back and slump so far into the chair that I'm practically on the floor. Raven, gives me a weird look, but I ignore it. Let me wallow in self-confliction. I'm not even sure that's a real thing, but it definitely should be.

He's such a quiet guy. The only thing I've heard about since middle-school, is that he gets into quite a few fights. I try to keep an opened mind about this afternoon. We're both older, he's probably forgotten all about it, and I'll act like nothings happened.

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I told Murphy that I'd see him after school, but that isn't technically the case because we end up having two more classes together; art and history.

I make the effort to acknowledge his presence, which isn't hard. In art class, he sits alone with his paper and pencil, his head resting in his hand. What's he thinking about? I wonder what everyone's thinking about and honestly, it pisses me off how people know things that I don't. I hate how people have secrets and I hate how I don't know what they are.

He looks as though he's in a deep concentration. In my opinion, 'Curiosity killed the cat' is too innocent for the word. In my opinion, curiosity is a mental illness that everyone has. Some have it worse than others. I am a part of that group. I get up from my seat, as casually as possible, to go sharpen my pencil, when in reality, it's to catch at least a glance at his art. He doesn't seem like a very artistic person though. I come to a standstill when my eyes land on the work. That whole 'don't judge a book by it's cover' saying describes this situation perfectly. I let eyes stare, which I know isn't a good idea. It's beautiful. A dark forest which is intricately detailed-

"Mr. Blake." I freeze at the sound of my teacher's voice. "Maybe you should spend more of your time focusing on your work, instead of looking at John's." a very stern Mr. Kane suggests. Murphy turns, seeing me behind him, and I quickly make my way back to my seat, feeling a very strong blush creep up my neck as I avert his gaze. I can feel him watching me and I make a big deal out of facing away from him.

***

My desk in history is probably the most unstable piece of shit on this planet. It creates this rattling sound which makes me want to exchange my hearing ability for guns. I quietly whine, looking up to see that Murphy's staring at me. He just looks at me with these abnormally large eyes- well. Abnormally sounds like a negative, but I mean it in a positive. He looks forever victimized. His natural resting face looks as though he's worried about something, constantly- like he's anticipating an acceptance letter from Yale or Harvard. When he's not half asleep in class- which is rare, he has opened blue eyes, which from my seat, all the way across the room, makes them look as though they're just pools of blue. His desk faces the sunlight, so his pupils have almost vanished. He looks as innocent as a child with his slight frown.