Scent of Love (Scomiche fanfiction)

Déjà vu

A/N

Hello guys! Just a quick note to let you know that what happens in this chapter is not as random and unrelated as it may seem, promise! This is actually essential for the back story to make more sense later.

As always, thank you for reading and leaving your votes and comments. Means the world!

Mitch wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He desperately needed to let off steam. He wanted to punch walls and kick stray cats and empty beer cans. Naturally, he did none of the above.

As much as he needed to take his anger out on something, he knew nothing in this world would bring him the kind of solace he craved. He was so weak he could barely raise his hand enough to reach his face and wipe away the tears. How did it come to this? Why had he not prepared himself for that confrontation? Why did it still hurt so much?

Bullshit. He had been preparing for it for years. He had been practicing. What he hadn't predicted was that Scott would turn out to be a real person with real feelings, an awkward dork with a goofy smile and ridiculously sexy voice. What he hadn't predicted was that a high school crush that had stemmed solely from Scott's good looks would eventually transform into-

No. He wasn't allowed to think about Scott in those terms. Scott was the very source of his misfortune. Scott was a bad guy, a heartless jerk, a villain, and no matter how sweet he was being to the current Mitch, the past Mitch was still around and his wounds were yet to heal.

Truth to be told, Mitch had been dreading this day. He knew very well that once the high school topic was out in the open, there would be no use pretending everything was fine. It's funny how human brain works. It allows you to easily ignore certain facts and focus on those that should definitely be less important, yet are more convenient to deal with. Or maybe it's not the brain, maybe it has nothing to do with logic.

By the time he got home, the tear tracks on his cheeks had dried and his anger had subsided. He fell face first to the bed, groaning as his nose collided with the mattress. He had been stupid enough to let his relationship with Scott develop to the point where it literally hurt to even think of letting go, and he hated himself for that. But Scott was a douchebag, and a liar on top of that, so letting go was the least he could do to save himself from further decline into madness.

Just before the first beams of sun broke through the glass of his window to announce a new day, his decision to cut all ties with Scott had been made.

***

When Mitch woke up a couple hours later, his head was pounding. He winced upon realizing that the headache was accompanied by an odd tightness in his chest. He had nothing to drink last night, except for two glasses of wine at Scott's, so what he would normally identify as symptoms of hangover seemed now completely unaccountable. With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and paddled to the bathroom. Mommy could definitely use some moisturizing. And painkillers.

It was when he was chewing on his cereal an hour or so later that he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, only to be reminded that he still didn't have it. He had left it with that Bob guy (or was it Rob?) at the service center recommended by Esther when a few days ago it had turned off by itself for no reason whatsoever, and refused to turn on again. Phoneless reality was difficult to cope with, but it had its merits, too.

It was with a good amount of trepidation that he finally acknowledged Scott's phone calls and texts as the ultimate threat to his sanity. So, when his phone had decided to stop working the very same afternoon he'd run into Scott and Alex, he'd almost welcomed the idea of being phone-deprived for a few days. He was well aware of the fact that if he'd had his phone on him all the while, he'd have given in to Scott on more than one occasion.