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The wind hit his face as he sat on the cold park bench, staring straight ahead while waiting for the guy next to him to speak.
“I know you love me.” The guy stated, making his heart beat wildly at the words, just before breaking to pieces at the cold and distant tone that those words were carried with.
“I know you don’t love me.” The other boy replied, his voice not portraying the pain and humiliation that he was feeling at the moment. His hair was hitting his forehead with force with the help of the strong winter wind, but the slight snap against his skin was nonexistent when compared to the pain he felt inside.
“I’m sorry,” the guy –his best friend- started, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
The other boy chuckled bitterly, before sniffing and using his sleeve to wipe off the few tears that had somehow managed to escape his eyes. “It’s fine,” he paused for a few moments before continuing, “it’s not your fault anyway, Troye.”
Both boys stayed silent for a few –though excruciatingly long- minutes, neither of them quite knowing what to say to make the situation better, or a bit easier to handle, at the very least.
Without uttering a single word, Connor stood from the bench, stuffing his glove-clad hands in his jacket pockets and starting to walk. He didn’t want to fully break down in front of Troye, so he started slowly and calmly making his way home.
It probably wasn’t the brightest idea; the few miles separating Connor from his house seemed eternal when combined with below-zero temperatures and agonizing heartache, but it gave him time to compose himself. Plus; if someone were to pass by, his blotchy face and teary eyes could easily be mistaken for effects of the harsh wind.
By the time he opened his front door, the only thing he could feel was heartbreak.
He didn’t feel the much warmer atmosphere once he was inside his house, he didn’t feel the small bruise forming when he stumbled onto his table, he didn’t feel the sting of tears forming in his eyes and making their way down his face, he didn’t feel his throat raw from the agonizing screams and violent sobs that he produced as he sank to the floor with his back pressed up against the wall, his hands tangling themselves in his hair and his knees bending to press against his chest.
He didn’t feel anything, because Troye had been the only one who could make him feel something. Because he loved Troye. Because Troye didn’t love him.