xi. eight page long letter

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IN REAL LIFE

































WALKER WASN'T THE TYPE TO keep his feelings to himself this long, no matter what kind they were and what, or who, they were aimed at. He didn't consider himself an open book by any means, but he wasn't one to keep secrets. He knew all too well keeping feelings inside weren't any good for him, and he learned that at a young age.

Except when it came to what he felt for Juliet; that was a completely different story. He was going to keep whatever those feelings were bottled up for as long as he could, preferably until he died sad and alone, because what they had right now was way too special to him. He hated when his friends wanted him to say something, because it just didn't feel right.

He didn't want to ruin anything with Juliet, as much as he just wanted her. They were meant to be just friends. He knew that. Walker really believed it, too, because being friends is better than being nothing with a girl you're hopelessly in love with. If he told her how he felt all the times he wanted to, he probably would be completely out of her life forever.

        Juliet didn't want the boy who came with fans who attacked her, the one who didn't leave her alone. She just wanted to be his best friends, and he was there to supply that to her. And, sure, Walker crossed that line one too many times with the way he acted— but who cares? That's just the type of friends they were; touchy, practically dating-and-or-married friends.

       And so as he explained this to Leah and Aryan, he couldn't help but feel upset at they laughed in his face. "Friends? Are you joking?" Aryan doubled over, covering his mouth as he laughed. Leah had calmed down, watching Aryan with a light smile. She looked over at Walker, "You are not just friends, Walk. You know it— also, you are totally an open book."

       "You just spend too much time with me," Walker shrugged as he felt the tips of his ears grow hot, watching Leah nod in agreement to his statement. Aryan looked at the girl next to me, "I am so confused on how you're not losing your shit right now." Leah just leaned back onto the head board of the king bed they were all sitting on, "I've heard this from both sides, many times. It's annoying, and funny, but more annoying."

       Walker gently threw a pillow at his friends before laying his head in his hands, "I think I'm really in love with her." His voice was muffled, and he prayed they didn't make him repeat it.  He was sure he was blushing, and he really didn't wanna look at anyone when he admitted this. "What was that?" Aryan smiled at his friend's antics, knowing what he said. Leah shot him a look, as a way to tell him to be nice.

       "I think—," Walker looked up from his hands, "No, I know. I know I'm really in love with her. Happy?" Leah rolled her eyes, "Goddamn it. Aryan, I am not paying you fifty dollars." Aryan pointed at her, "Oh, yes you are, Lee. You are so paying me. I knew he was in deep after listen to Work Song and saying he was thinking of her. Openly."

      "Okay, you bet on me?" Walker frowned, not realizing his feelings were so obvious they were able to bet on. "So fucking rude." Both his friends shrugged as they just looked at him, the room in a comfortable silence. Truth be told, it felt good to finally get that off his chest. Walker felt a little less guilty for being completely in love with his best friend.

       He loved, not just liked, everything about her. He thought she was perfect, Walker worshipped the ground she walked on. Juliet was absolutely the only girl he wanted to be with, he fell first, and he fell harder. It was moments like these where he spaced out and thought about her, the ones where he should be laughing at his friends bantering. But he wasn't, he was always thinking of her.

       "I think I'm gonna head to bed," Walker interrupted his friends, both of them sending him a soft smile. Leah reached over and ruffled his hair as he tried to push her hand away, "I'm happy you finally admitted it, seaweed brain." Walker rolled his eyes and smiled, "Yeah, yeah, shut up. I can't wait until tomorrow when everyone finally gets here. I'll be free of you both for a little bit." Aryan smiled, "You love us."

        "Maybe," Walker joked as he shut the door to the hotel room gently behind him. He said a quick goodnight to his family, then immediately headed to his room and jumped on his bed. His mind wandered back to Juliet. He should be sick of thinking of her, he shouldn't even be thinking of her this much. Walker couldn't get enough, and it didn't help he knew almost everything about her.

        He knew she loved strawberries, but only a certain kind from a farmers market open in Las Angeles, which is where he was. Walker knew Juliet loved to read, but always seemed to lack the time, so instead had her mom read to her while she was getting ready for events or in her trailer back on set. He knew she absolutely hated spiders, the dark, and big bodies of water.

        Juliet loved when other people smiled, but hated her own, even if Walker thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. She'd never admit it, but she would always secretly love watching children's shows when she was bored. Walker knew her favorite colors, her favorite songs, and even how she felt when she lost one of the most important people in the world at a young age.

       As he stared at his ceiling in the dark, he realized that if he didn't do something soon, he might explode. Walker had all this pent up love for his best friend, and he didn't have any way to say it. He knew the best decision would be to tell her, but that actually scared the crap out of him. Instead, he sat up, turned on his lamp, grabbed the random notepad and wrote a letter.

       It was long, it was incredibly sappy, and Walker made a promise to himself no one would ever see it, but it made him feel so much better. A fraction of what he felt existed on this paper, and it felt much better than keeping it all in. Sure, maybe he wasn't one to keep everything in, but his feelings for Juliet were the exception (Apart from his closest friends and this sacred eight page long letter).





































CLEM,
oh hey

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