Chapter Fifteen

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Chris wasn't fine.

---

Chris kicked the wall in the back of the school, yells echoing through the open air. Chris snuck out of class, his pent up emotions stirring way too much that he had to release everything.

Chris was feeling so many emotions at that very moment.

Confused?

Yep.

Frustrated?

Oh yeah.

Conflicted?

Fuck yes.

Chris literally just wanted to curl up on the floor and cry. He wished he could just stop time, get out of this huge fucking mess of many things.

But he fucking couldn't. He may have fucking superpowers, but they certainly couldn't help him in this situation.

Chris knew that Minho being Strike wasn't confirmed just yet, but the evidence stacked so much in that direction that it just seemed inevitable that that specific fact would be revealed as the truth.

It was so stupid.

Chris was dreading the day that Strike's identity would be confirmed as Minho. 

And he knew that it was going to come.

Chris let out another yell as he sent another kick towards the wall of the building, his tears blurring his vision so much that he missed the kick. The momentum of the kick caused Chris to fall into the dirt.

Chris gripped the earth, his tears watering the ground as he curled his legs into his torso. He felt really defeated.

Maybe he should just end it all now.

---

Chris didn't even wait for Minho to exit the jeep as he aggressively stormed into the house, trying so fucking hard to conceal his emotions. Chris literally had such a hard time concealing the way he felt throughout the whole rest of the school day.

His facade was slowly breaking, and he knew it.

Chris threw the front door open and strode straight to his and Minho's room, throwing his backpack to the floor with his telekinesis as he was too emotional to care.

Chris dove into his bed, gripping his bedsheets with his hands so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Why couldn't the world just stop?

Well, the world could stop just for him, he could just end his life right-

"Chan? Are you okay?"

Chris looked up through his now blurry filter, seeing Minho's figure appear in the doorway.

Chris literally didn't even care at this moment that Minho might be his worst enemy. He just needed comfort, something to keep him sane. Chris shook his head, his blonde curls sticking to his forehead. "n-no."

Minho immediately walked over to Chris and sat on the bed, laying down in a position to wrap him in a hug.

It was at that moment that the waterworks started.

Saying Chris was conflicted was an absolute understatement.

Chris knew Minho as someone that he trusted, someone that could always be there for him. Minho was such a kind, genuine person and he's always liked him as a person.

On the other hand, Strike was somebody that Chris absolutely hated. Strike literally killed his family, and he couldn't help but feel so much hatred. He didn't fulfill the role of a hero in Chris' life, and that really says something.

But they were both probably the same person.

How the fuck could that be?

Chris knew that this kind of thought process was probably going to go on for a while until he did something about it. He didn't want to, but he had to.

He had to get through this eventually, and Chris did not like that.

Chris did not like that at all.

A/N hey guys, I'm back from hiatus! this chappie is way below my usual word count, i don't even know i decided to put these in my outlines even though they are very important to the plotline, they just don't require as much words as you think. idk lol.

sjo

unedited

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