Painted On

Run

Connor

"C-Con?" Troye asked. There were tear streaks down his cheeks, and he looked so scared that Connor just wanted to pull him into a hug and never let him go.

But he wasn't sure Troye would want that, so he wrapped his arms around his torso and stepped back again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I... I never meant for you to know," he said softly. "I'll go... I know you don't want this."

Troye stared at him with wide eyes, his lips moving but no sound coming out. He looked obviously distressed by Connor's words.

"It's fine, really," Connor said, using his sweater sleeves to brush away the tears that had started falling at some point. "It's okay. I'm fine. I knew all along that this would just hurt you. That's why I hid it. I... I'm sorry that you had to find out..." He was talking without thinking, the words just spilling out. He didn't care anymore about sounding stupid. "I'll be fine. Just pretend you never saw that and we can move on and I promise that I won't act on my feelings or anything. It'll be like I never fell in love with you. It'll all work out."

Connor was unsure if he was trying to convince Troye or himself. He forced himself to smile, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was break down. He didn't give Troye a chance to speak, instead just kept talking.

"I understand if you don't want me around. Actually, I know you don't want me around. I... I'll go," he said, trying not to let it show that each word was breaking his heart even more. "I'm really sorry." He forced himself to turn away from Troye, walking towards the door.

"D-don't go," came a shaky voice from behind him. Troye was gripping the back of his sweater, making it impossible for him to keep walking. "Wait, please."

Connor carefully pried Troye's fingers from his sweater, fighting back tears. He turned around again and kneeled down next to Troye, who was still on the floor. "Please," he said softly. "Don't make this any harder for me, okay? You can say anything you want, I know that with your history and all that that this will change things between us even if I don't want it to. Hate me, despise the very thought of me, whatever makes you happy. I won't ask you to even look at me again. I'll disappear completely from your life, I promise. You can pretend that I never fell in love with you, hell, you can pretend I never even existed. Just please, do me this one favor. Don't make it harder than it already is to walk away. That's all I ask."

"No," Troye said, his eyes full of tears again as he grabbed Connor's arm to prevent him from getting up. "No no nono. I don't want to h-hear those words. Please, don't s-say that."

"Say what?" Connor asked. "The truth?"

"No!" Troye exclaimed loudly. "That's not the truth. I c-could never h-h-hate y-you."

Before Connor knew it, he was wrapped in Troye's arms. Troye was sobbing into his shoulder, his fists balling up the fabric of Connor's sweater.

"Troye..." Connor said, for lack of anything else to say.

He couldn't deal with Troye being nice to him, hugging him, because he was convinced that Troye hated him. There was no way Troye could hug him when the mark on his wrist was burning a hole in their friendship. Troye was just trying to make him feel better, of course he was. He was too kind for his own good.

But Connor didn't want kindness. He wanted Troye to come forward and tell the truth, that he hated him, and he wanted Troye to yell at him and break his heart bitterly so that Connor could hate him too and he could move on.

What he didn't want was for Troye to be clinging to him for dear life as he sobbed into his shoulder. The arms around him felt heavy, they felt like lies. But at the same time they felt loving and they made Connor feel like Troye needed him. He couldn't take it anymore, he was lost and confused and he just wanted something concrete to latch on to, be it pain or anger or whatever it had to be. There was one question, echoing through his head.

Why wouldn't Troye just break his heart?

"Don't, please," Connor begged.

Troye pulled backwards, leaning away from Connor and staring at him with saddened eyes. "Don't what?" Troye stuttered.

"Don't lie to me," Connor said. It felt like his wrist was actually burning. All he wanted was for Troye to make him stop loving him. All he wanted was to hate the very thought of Troye, so that he wouldn't have to still love him. He took the burning sensation and channeled it into anger, sharp and piercing through both the love and the pain. "Don't fucking lie to me, Troye," he snapped, louder.

"I'm n-not, I promise Con," Troye replied, reaching out to put a hand on Connor's arm. "I could honestly never hate you."

Connor angrily pushed Troye's arm away. "I don't believe you," he said harshly. "How can you not hate me? I know enough about you to know that you should hate me."

Troye shook his head again. He looked hurt by Connor's anger, or maybe saddened by something else. Connor wanted to hug him and take back the harsh words, but he pushed the guilt down deeper and let his anger grow from it. "I don't," Troye said. His voice was gentle, compassionate, despite being rough and sore from tears. "I don't hate you. Connor, I care about you more than anyone else in the world. I'm saying that honestly, from the bottom of my-"

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST BREAK MY HEART," Connor interrupted angrily. His voice cut through the air. He was staring at Troye through teary eyes, all the tension gone from his body with the angry scream. "Why won't you just break my heart," he repeated, more quietly, his plea sounding broken even to his own ears.

Troye gave Connor the most caring look he had ever seen. He had initially tensed up when Connor interrupted him, but he relaxed when he heard Connor's question. The compassion, the gentleness, the love in his eyes was enough to make Connor's throat tighten up.

"I won't break your heart because I don't want to break your heart," Troye replied gently. "Both of us know, Connor, that I've hated love for a long time now. It scares me still, even after all the time that I've had to heal. That fear has made me terrified of the truth about my feelings for so, so long. I only found this out today... it was the reason I was crying when you got here. But now I guess, no, I know that there's nothing wrong with the truth. And the truth is I..."

Connor felt like he couldn't breathe. He knew what was coming.

"I love you too, Con. I'm not scared of that fact anymore. I love you."

Connor covered his ears at Troye's final words, not wanting to hear them. But he was too late, the words were already bouncing around in his head, making his anger slowly dissipate into confusion. Troye rolled up his sleeve carefully, revealing reddened and scratched skin surrounding...

It couldn't be...

But it was...

Connor's tattoo.

Which meant that Troye really did love him.

Connor screwed his eyes shut. No. Troye should hate him right now. He shouldn't be telling, showing, Connor that he loved him back.

He felt panic rising in his chest. He didn't know what was the truth anymore. Troye should hate him, but there he was, telling Connor that he loved him.

Connor couldn't cope with his emotions. He had built himself up so heavily for rejection that Troye returning his feelings made him completely lost. He had no idea what to do.

So he did the only thing he knew how to do in a situation like the one he was in.

He stood up, took a step backwards...

and ran.