Chapter Text
Love,
What a strange feeling.
In a world such as today’s, romance is everywhere. Couples fill the street and being single may as well be seen as crime.
However, Verlaine has never once cared for relationships—he didn’t need one.
The concept of relationships, of loving someone was not something he wished to invest in. Devoting all your time and effort to someone that you deem special—until there’s nothing left in your life other than this one person, until they're all you can think of. But one day—no matter the circumstances—you’ll have no one left but yourself. He’d seen it all, love never lasts.
But then he saw him—him being taller than average, with long luscious hair and a face that could kill.
Oh how he wished he could run his fingers through the mop of silky black hair.
Wait.
What was he thinking?
He’s staring at a complete stranger and yet he just can’t look away—it’s almost as if something were pulling him towards this stunning thing of a human being.
And then the locked eyes.
Shit.
“Is there something I can help you with?” The man had a heavy French accent, most likely a transfer student.
That was it, that voice could send Verlaine into a coma.
“N-no, it’s nothing” his voice cracking ever so slightly, “I’m doing just fine on my own, now if you could just excuse me, I have places I need to be.”
He’s not in love, he’s not in love, he’s not in love, he is not in love.
And he was definitely not in love with a man.
Right?
Verlaine hated how fast his heart was racing, but more than that he absolutely despised the odd mussy feeling spreading all over, the way it felt as if a blanket of heat was covering his body—and it burned, the fire burned him, engulfing his body—for a moment he feared his heart would burst out of his chest.
What a stupid stupid feeling indeed.
Is this what love felt like?
If so he sincerely hoped he’d never experience it ever again.
Love was simply not for him.
Verlaine currently had one goal in mind and one goal only.
Avoid that man at all costs.
Easier said than done, that man was all Verlaine could think about—he infected his thoughts—and he hated it so very much.
It’s okay, there's plenty of people in this school, the chances of bumping into the same person in the halls were slim.
Slim, but clearly not zero because there he was—the man he swore never to see again sitting right there exactly across from where Verlaine sat to eat every single day—almost as if this man was waiting just for him.
It was like they were meant to be.
Except they weren’t—Verlaine refused the thought, he revolted at the thought of being in love.
He bolted—ran far away—and out of the corner of his eye he saw the man looking back at him.
And for just a moment his heart skipped a beat—he tripped, his textbooks dropping with a bang as he tumbled to the floor.
When he looked up he was met with hazel eyes staring back into his.
The face of an angel, hand outstretched towards him.
“Mind if I help you up?”
“Huh?” Verlaine struggled to process what was happening.
“Uhh sure I guess I could use some help, thanks.” Verlaine gave the man an awkward smile as he reached for his hand, he just hoped his face wasn’t red.
“So,” The man started, dragging out the o, “could you perchance maybe I dunno mind telling me your name? Just a hunch, but something tells me this might not be the last time we’ll meet.”
Well maybe he could do one thing, this man helped him out after all, what else could he want.
“I’m Arthur, Arthur Rimbaud but just Rimbaud is fine, nice to meet you!”
Geez this man was something for sure, and Verlaine didn’t know if it was for good or bad.
“Do you want my number or can I get your number?”
“Excuse me,you want what now?”
Oh he did not mean to say that out loud.
“Well I mean my phone's dead so..there’s I can’t really do that anyways..”
Liar.
“I can write my number down and you can call me later!” Rimbaud really was fixed on contacting him wasn't he.
“I just thought it might be nice I mean like, I am new here,” He stuttered a little, “I am a transfer student so um i am not as familiar with this place and, well, you seem nice and I just,” Rimbaud struggled to find the right words, not quite fluent in english just yet.
“I thought it might be nice to just get to know you, I am really just going with my gut feeling right now.”
“Yea don’t worry I’ll add your number when I get back to my place.”
Another lie.
He smiled slightly before collecting his books and hastily walking away, turning the corner before letting out a sigh of relief.
That burning feeling was back—it invaded his body like a parasite, spreading all throughout until it felt as if it was gnawing away at his very soul.
He didn’t mean to slam his door shut with as much force as he did but Verlaine was mad.
Was he?
He was conflicted.
Verlaine didn’t know how to feel, he didn’t know what he was feeling.
“You okay big bro?” A voice came from downstairs, Chuuya, the younger brother he cherished with all his heart.
“I’m fine.” Verlaine grumbled.
“Completely and utterly fine.”
“I think thats what you say when you’re not okay but you do you.”
He felt like screaming into his pillow,
he didn’t.
“Come on…spill the tea Paul.”
“No.” He was tired, today had been a literal rollercoaster of emotions—and not in a good way.
“Okay fine.. I’ll leave you alone, just stop sulking around and play cards with me and Samu, please?” Chuuya pleaded, dragging out the last word, trying to look as sad and pathetic as possible.
“Alright fine I’ll stop sulking.” How could Verlaine say no when Chuuya looked at him with those puppy eyes, he was too adorable to resist.
Perhaps it wasn’t too bad, sitting there watching his brother and his boyfriend flirt with each other as they fight over a deck of cards, arguing over who goes first and stealing food out of each other's hands.
There was no doubt from the look in Chuuya’s eyes that he loved his boyfriend, it was sweet, incredibly so.
Verlaine was happy for his brother, love suited Chuuya well.
Perhaps tomorrow will be better, yea, he’d wake up tomorrow and everything would be fine. Today was a bad dream, a coincidence, he would not see Rimbaud again,
For some reason his heart twisted at the thought.
He would be just fine.