Work Text:
The moment they met, they automatically knew they had more in common than anyone else realized.
She was used to the whispers and stares she always received when trying to ride the train; she held her head up high and pretended they didn’t bother her.
Whore. Social disgrace. Talentless slut. Nobody will remember her in five years. She can’t sing so she sold out her body.
He was used to the whispers and stares he received when attending class; he’d drop his head and begin the waterworks and someone would come to his aid, upset that an innocent girl was crying.
Fag. Pathetic. Weak. He’s so weak, can he even be a boy? He doesn’t deserve his dick. Maybe he’s truly gay?
They started to teach other different things they had learned to pass better, to cope easier. He showed her the bruises and cuts that lined his arms and legs. She showed him how to hide a broken ankle and a black eye.
He liked watching her braid her hair and dry-swallow morning-after pills. She liked watching him bake cupcakes and then holding his hair back as he vomited them all.
She showed him how to properly drip honey on his legs and how to cross them when he sat. He showed her how to scream into a pillow and dance in the rain.
She taught him how to dance, how to cook, how to laugh, how to kiss, how to make love. He taught her how to smell the roses, how to slow down, how to give presents, how to fix computers, how to love.
She saw him on TV once, dressed in black fishnets and explaining a new anti-virus program he made. He saw her on TV once, dressed in pink frills and singing her heart out about true love.
Nobody ever saw her down on her knees, scrubbing the floors or earning her keep.
Nobody ever saw him on his knees, throwing bottles against the wall or screaming about being weak.
They were both programmed wrongly, for they were only taught how to hate, yet they learned how to love each other.