𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝘼𝙐 , dreamwastaken+wilbursoot ✔

As she walks by. . .

It had been nearly two months since we'd begun dating, and Clay had become distant in a way that I was unsure of how to feel about. He wasn't angry; we never argued, but there was something about the way he moved, the way he spoke, that was different from when we'd first been together.

It was as if something else was always on his mind; as if someone else was always on his mind.

"So, are you okay?" Wilbur asked as we walked along the bay, the sun's blinding rays bouncing off the water's deep greeny, blue waves, almost the same color as Clay's eyes. "You've been kinda... off?"

Keeping my eyes on my beat-up converse as we continued down the boardwalk; Clay had said he'd wanted to meet me here, and Wilbur had come along both as moral support and to escape the stuffy, claustrophobic feel of the house.I shrugged, "I don't even know myself."

Wilbur's eyes widened becoming glossy, he wrapped his arms around me, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

I nod but don't say anything further.

Wilbur frowned. "Y/n, did something happen?"

I glanced away. "What do you mean?"

He pulls out of the hug and grips my shoulders to face him, "You know exactly what I mean," He said sternly, "What's going on? Is it Clay?"

"It's nothing." I blew out a shaky breath. "No, we're fine. We're great. Everything's going well."

Wilbur pulls my face gently to look back at him, "Y/n/n, I've known you my whole life..." He looked almost hurt, "I can tell you're lying."

I rubbed my forehead, sighing. "We're not... fighting," I said. "There's nothing wrong, really, it's just..."

"Just what?" Wilbur pressed.

"I feel like... his mind is always somewhere else."

He frowned. "Final exams are coming up soon - I'm pretty sure we're all distracted."

"No." I said. "No, I mean - his mind is always on someone else."

Wilbur's eyes widened, and he paused. "Y/n-"

I knew what he was going to say, I knew exactly what his lips we're going to say. "Please." I swallowed. "Just... don't."

He took a slow breath and turned to walk again, he debated saying what was on his mind, his facial expression changed clearly changing his mind. "I mean, he asked you to hang out here today - things can't possibly be bad. He's a great guy, if- if he really didn't like you anymore, he would've broken up with you already."

I looked away, choosing not to respond.

"Look, we're here..." Wilbur let go on me, "Come on, Y/n/n - go see him. Enjoy him..." He said reluctantly.

"Thanks, Wilbur," I said, more for his benefit than anything as he gave me another quick hug.

"Of course," He replied. "Now go."

｡:°ஐ

"Hey."

Clay glanced up from where he was sitting on his dark red vespa, his hands braced on the handlebars, as if he was preparing himself for something. He swung his leg over the seat and stood, walking closer to me. "Hey, Y/n."

I paused; something was wrong, and it took me a moment to figure out what it was.

Clay's brilliant smile was entirely absent.

And the dog tag necklace I had given him no longer hung around his neck.

I swallowed. "Everything good?" I asked warily, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

There was a long stretch of silence before Clay spoke again, "I wanted to talk to you."

I waited, a sense of dread curling in my stomach.

Clay ran a hand through his dirty blond hair, his bright green eyes flicking around, never fully meeting mine. "Y/n..." he finally said, but that was the only word he spoke, as if he couldn't find the rest of what he wanted to say, as if my name was the only thing he could come up with.

I felt my stomach clench, I averted my eyes hoping it was anything else but what my head was telling me, "What is it?" I asked, my voice sounding far too small to my own ears.

Clay swallowed hard before finally continuing, "Y/n. We're not... serious, are we?"

It took me much too long to process his words; I heard them but couldn't register them, the world suddenly slowing, as if we were underwater. I felt sick.

"What do you mean?" I whispered faintly, unsure if I was imagining this conversation.

Clay ran his fingers through his curly hair again, his gaze dropping to his shoes. "I mean, I just - we can't be anything more, can we? I just feel that 'this' isn't working."

I couldn't find the words to reply, my breath escaping my lungs as I stared at him, stared at Clay, with his beautiful mouth and slightly crooked nose and perfectly tousled hair, far too good for me - he'd always been far too good for me, and I knew this would happen. In the circumstances, of course I knew this would happen. It had been right in front of me from the start.

All I could feel was sadness and anger, every other emotion pushed from my being. Was I just a joke to him? Where there was the love, the light, the laughter is an aching hollowness. I was honest, truthful and full of more love for him than he could ever understand.

I have been soft, kind and gentle - yet apparently all that is negated by being too boring. All I am is human, why the hell didn't you just see me that way?

I just hadn't realized how much it would hurt. I was entirely absent to every warning sign.

I still couldn't answer him, because there was nothing I could say, nothing that could make any of this better.

"Y/n," Clay said again, reaching out to touch my face one more time. "We can stay friends, right? I really like you, Y/n/n, I just..." His voice trailed off.

'I really like you, Y/n ' - not ' I love you, Y/n,' Because that couldn't happen, not now, not ever.

When I still couldn't speak, Clay released a shaky breath, his hand falling from my face, as he took a step back. "Y/n, I hope... I hope you understand."

But I don't understand.

Then he hesitated for a long, silent moment before turning and walking back to his scooter, leaving me standing there, a million words I wanted to say but couldn't on the tip of my tongue, all my hopes and wishes and dreams fading before my eyes.

I wanted to call his name; to see his green eyes one more time; to kiss him one more time; to tell him I was sorry - but it was too late now, far too late for me to do or say anything.

So I could only watch him as he slid on his helmet, pausing one more time, before driving off on his vespa, his tall frame getting smaller in the distance.

Only if you knew how much I liked you, I thought, if only you knew...

But he would never know.