pursuits

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~hello there is a quite graphic paragraph around ¾ through the chapter involving blood, so i will mark it with // !!! pls skip if this may trigger u !!! the story still makes 100% sense without that one paragraph so u will not miss anything !!! thank u kiddos~

I still had no idea what we were going to do.

I had a free pass to an art university, graduation was in two weeks, I had an amazing boyfriend and group of friends, my depression was gradually improving, so I wasn't plagued with tiredness every moment of my awake hours; to anyone else, it would seem I had a plan for my perfect life of which I had under my perfect control.

Not.

Neither me nor Phil thought it suitable for me to take a two hour bus ride every morning and night in order to get to my classes, so, obviously, our immediate plan was to get an apartment in that town. The issue, however, was that it was a rich neighbourhood, and we were broke.

We had friends with money, like Chris and Troye, but neither of us wanted to ask for something like that. Besides, Chris had his own problems with PJ. PJ's plan to spend enough time with Chris to forget any feelings about Sophie had failed. That was all I knew about the situation.

My mom had finally come home to actually sleep a night in our house, and the morning after, I'd broken the news to her that I had won a scholarship and was going to school. She'd hugged me, telling me she was so proud, while I met Phil's eyes over her shoulder and wondered how you could be proud of someone if you didn't really care. It wasn't like my pursuits really interested her, even if the lie written all over her face was one convincing to those who didn't know.

But I didn't have to rely on only her to be proud of me, now. Not only did I have my friends to do that, but I had myself.

My mother was gone again by the afternoon.

At the moment, Phil and I were seated next to each other on the stools by the counter, a notebook beneath his hands since it would be easier for the both of us to read his handwriting instead. The only words written so far were, Possible plans to money. We still hadn't exactly thought of anything.

I was leaning on the hard counter with my elbow, a palm beneath my chin to hold me up due to both laziness and fatigue. My eyes were drooping heavily; this was the opposite of Phil, who was staring intensely at his paper as if an idea would write itself down if he looked at the empty white sheet long enough. It reminded me of the way I would look at my canvas' sometimes: with a longing and some sort of desperation, as if this one moment of no ideas would ruin my future forever. The only difference in this case was that it actually could.

"Sell this house without telling your mom and take Adrian with us," Phil stated with a monotone, and I rolled my eyes. I knew he wasn't being serious, but trying to make me laugh probably wouldn't work right at the moment.

"Maybe I can just ask to give the scholarship to Sophie," My hand slipped from my face and I banged my forehead on the counter. "At least she has money and would be able to use it."

I looked up at Phil, and he looked very distraught. "No, you worked too hard. Even if you do have to take the bus every day, you're going. And no this is not me being all strict, I just know how much you want this." His expression transformed into a soft one, and he smiled gently. "Okay?"

I nodded against the cold surface my cheek was currently pressed against. "Yeah. I am too pessimistic to follow my dreams."

"And I'm too optimistic to let you not follow your dreams."

What had I done to deserve him? What had anyone on this earth done to deserve to breathe the same air as Phil Lester? This entire time, he wasn't even thinking about himself. He's always been thinking about me: what I was painting, if I was going to win, how I was going to go to college. I wanted to appreciate it, but it felt like I was taking advantage of him when he had a life of his own he had to live too.

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