𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒕 ➵ schlattbur

XVIII / hanker sore

a/n sorry for the long time for updates! i recently just started going out with a really sweet guy and ive been super focused on my grades! i'm in a lot better place than i was like a month ago, but thank you guys for stick with me and all the support.

hanker sore

adj. 

finding a person so attractive it actually kinda pisses you off.

jonathan 

--

jonathan paced around anxiously. no— no. he wasn't anxious. he didn't care what wilbur thought. not at all. he was pacing... angrily. pacing in a way where part of him actually was nervous about what wilbur thought— that maybe he wouldn't come back.

no. no he wasn't. he needed someone to be angry with him, on his side. though, only minx was willing to talk with him and minx was not very helpful. yet, he couldn't blame her.

schlatt'd never seen her so upset. or just generally guilty looking. minx'd always told him that whatever she did she never regretted it because she'd never do something she'd regret. there was probably a few exceptions to that.

it was probably for the better schlatt didn't know the others if there ever were others. after today, he wanted to forget.

minx just hummed as if he'd said all of that out loud right next to the very long angry rant he'd started the second she asked if something was up.

"i think you're expecting too much of him." she said flatly, not needing to look at schlatt to know she needed to continue. "you two are like, new friends. he's not going to open up to you about something so big yet. i doubt anybody actually knows about it besides him. it's a heavy burden to carry."

schlatt'd never heard her so honest about something. she'd been considering this for a while. "...what if i w— felt like we were more than new friends?"

"you two weren't on the same page. own up to it. you can't force a relationship or anything out of him."

he grumbled, sitting down next to minx. liking wilbur was harder than he wanted it to be. it was hard being angry despite knowing it was irrational, that there was no point in being angry at something you don't understand well.

"jonathan?" minx asked softly.

"what?" he answered in a harsh tone, which made a little too clear how annoyed he was.

"you can't tell anyone this, but um,"

schlatt went dead silent.

"this was a while ago. um, there was this dueling club. class. and me 'n wilbur were supposed to y'know, duel."

minx didn't often say 'don't tell anyone this'. that never happened. she looked so pale.

"and um, there was an accident. it was really fucking bad. i, i think his spell misfired."

his stomach dropped.

"i hit him directly. with whatever spell i cast— i can't remember. and he," she took a breath. "he was so scared. there was blood everywhere."

no.

"he couldn't do magic, like at all. he wasn't supposed to um, recover. he was so stubborn about it. i felt awful."

fuck.

"he wasn't the same after that. i mean, i can't blame him. who would be? but i just feel so terrible everytime i look at him, and i just,"

... fuck.

"no matter how much he reassures me it's fine i just, i feel so guilty."

it was silent. the pit in his stomach took up his whole chest and schlatt forgot to breathe for a whole minute. anger turned into remorse. guilt.

"schlatt." minx said firmly, looking him in the eyes. "you look paler than me, and, and i'm irish."

"sorry. it's um, a lot to take in."

"don't make it fuckin' weird."

"i won't! i'm just tired."

yeah, tired sure.

he was sure wilbur was tired.

god, how much worse could you fuck up?

how much worse do you have to get?

--

i think the word for this chapter is in no way accurate but i thought it was funny because y'know its schlatt