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He had stared at her the previous day, writing.

The words that appeared from his pen ink were ones that could depict his love for her.

The love he believed was unrequited.

Sometimes I realise someone like you would never love me, and I just have to be okay with it.

Vincent read over his musing, shaking his head and bundling up the paper before throwing it into the bin.

His trash was overflowing at this point, from notes he had started and never finished, to notes he knew he couldn't give her.

Vincent could give her his heart, but he couldn't give her his soul too.

Vince stretched his fatigued arms above his head, letting out a tired yawn.

He left his desk, his stomach grumbling for him to eat. As he walked into the small kitchen, he noticed Parker looking to Mark with concern as Mark sat slouched in their small couch playing violent videogames angrily.

"What's up with him?" Vincent's voice was laced with concern.

He and his room-mates were very different people who became close in the strangest of circumstances.

Vincent was the writer, and the extrovert. He moved in with Mark just before Parker did, having known the taller boy from his job at the local hardware store - a job his parents detested him having.

Mark was the artist, the gentle giant. He had a great love for the way he could create something incredible from a canvas, but his father hated his passion. At the young age of just fourteen, after years of money collection from illegal work and competitions, he had used a connection to move away from his father, and closer to his mother's grave. From then, his work had developed into spray paintings which caused any person to turn and admire. Vincent was the person who sold him his first can of spraypaint bought far away from his dad. Mark didn't look like much more than someone far too willing to beat you to nothing, but his personality made him kind enough to let a new found friend into his home.

Meanwhile, Parker was the bruiser, the brutish, rude, pessimistic introvert who had a hidden side of care for people who deserved it. The bond was formed from there, familiarity in them all. Both feared his lack of happiness, but then, he met Sloane, and his heart was filled with hope.

"Clara's staying at her Grandmother's house in Germany, and won't have any internet. She has to write" Parker mumbled, taking a sip of coffee.

On the counter, Vince noticed there were two other mugs and extra coffee in the pot - something Parker did in case anyone wanted some too. He would never admit to it though.

The boy turned to Vincent fully after a moment of silence "Your dearest mother called"

Vincent groaned in annoyance, rubbing his temples "Cecilia or Dana?"

"The garbage birth giver, not the good one"

Vince snorted slightly with a laugh, his biological mother hardly ever contacting him "Oh wow, what'd Cecilia want?"

"I don't know, I hung up."

A small smile creeped onto Vincent's face at his best friend's blatant words.

It was when they were only seven that they met the first time. It was at a gala event held for the high class, and both Parker and Vincent did not want to go. Fortunately enough for Parker, his parents were kind enough to allow him to still be a child, but even from that young age, Vincent was a doll for his parents to control.

From the day they met, they had remained reasonable acquaintances until the age of thirteen, when they fought for the first time over a girl. She hadn't been worth it, but she had built their friendship.

Then they became room-mates when Parker ran from home, making the three unlikely friends become all the closer - literally and figuratively.

"Thanks Parker" Vincent laughed.

Parker nodded back, taking his coffee to his room, not before replying "You're welcome"

Though they were careless people, Vincent couldn't help but to be grateful that they pushed him so far away he found his own family, his own brothers.

"MOTHERFUCKING CRAPPING FUCK DICK FUCKCUN-"

"MARK!" Parker scolded from down the hall.

Mark's sudden outburst was caused by both the video game and his anger with how far he was from the girl he was most certainly falling in love with.

Vincent's eyebrow furrowed at Parker's strange motherly behaviour - scolding his friend just for swearing -, before a small grin reached his lips. The only time Parker ever censored himself or anyone else was when he was in the company of his dearest Sloane, his precious jem.

"LO, BABY! WHY'D YOU NOT TELL ME YOU WERE HOME?" The boy shouted down the hall, all to stir up the big softie who loved a gentle girl.

"CALL MY GIRLFRIEND 'BABY' AGAIN AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU"

Sloane was laughing as she escaped from Parker's protective grip, much to his protest, saying hello to Vincent as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

As Vincent returned the hug, he taunted Parker further, making obscene gestures and mouthing crude comments.

Parker only raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips as he mouthed back 'after i fuck her, so loud you can't hear for a week, i'm going to kill you'.

Vincent's eyes widened as he let go of the seemingly innocent girl, his private 'conversation' with Parker unknown to her.

Though, funnily enough, the comment was one that seemed more in Sloane's lane of crude and comedic.

"You were in your room when I came over, I didn't want to disturb you" The girl grinned.

"He doesn't deserve you"

She laughed softly, looking back to her lover with eyes that sparkled "I know, but he's so hot"

"Disgusting"

Sloane winked with a small laugh as she took Parker's hand, leading him back to his bedroom.

Not before Sloane made one more obscene gestures towards her lover's best friend.

She was a smart girl through and through, and had caught on to the joke through the oven reflection. Following as she had always said, girls do creepy so much better.

"I hate them"

"No you don't" Mark commented quickly, forming a pout on Vincent's face knowing this whole time Mark was just ignoring his presence.

"Shut up" He huffed, jumping over the couch to watch Mark head-shotting anyone who went past in his game.

As he watched, Vincent's mind flurried with ideas if what to write.

"The colours of your lips were what caused my head to erupt into a million new feelings I had never known."

***

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