His blood on my hands

Belle eight

I panic and pull away quickly.

"What are you doing?"

He looks confused and hurt. The way I looked when we went to our room after the lab.

"I'm sorry Belle. I'm in love with you."

"What do you mean? We've always just been friends. I thought that's all we were."

"I've loved you since we were kids. I thought that maybe you felt the same way. Especially after you said you didn't meet anyone at school." He looks on the verge of tears. I feel terrible.

"I'm so sorry Claud. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression." I feel so stiff and frozen. Like the words I say are scripted. I'm not sure why I don't like him in that way. It's not like I have a chance with Jamia.

"Why? Did you meet someone?"

"No. I just... I just can't. I can't like you like that." I want to. It would be so perfect if I did. But I don't for some reason.

He looks at me for a moment and then takes his bag and leaves. I'm not sure where he's going to go or how he's going to get home but I stay in the field. A tear rolls down my face and I brush it away quickly.

I really thought we were only friends. I thought we were on the same page. But I guess not. I can't help but blame myself. His personality is just like mine. He sings and dances and cooks. He has curly brown hair. I know his family. But I just can't.

He even loves all the same things I do. Well, almost all the same things I do.