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• 114 pt. II •

meanwhile, phichit had found a place to hide away from people to sit on his own and think about what a fuck-up he/his relationship with the most beautiful damn boy he'd ever met was.

he was wondering if maybe he should just go fully straight to avoid this kind of fuckery with his heart.

yeah, but pretty girls like anya are bitchy.

and besides, they weren't as pretty as chris.

"ugh," phichit groaned out loud, raking back his hair with his hands and all alone where he was sitting in the theatre, "fuck."

"that you, juliet?"

immediately phichit froze, and tried to stay hidden.

"no," he said, and heard chris smile a little.

"what are you doing all the way up there?"

his voice sounded like honey phichit wasn't allowed to taste, and he got to his feet to lean over the side of the balcony on the stage.

"hiding," he said, as if it were obvious.

"from what?" chris has his hands in his trouser pockets, looking painfully pretty in the white button-up shirt he was wearing with sleeves rolled back. (praise god for modern takes on romeo and juliet, phichit thought.)

"people telling me how shit my acting was, you, your boyfriend, exams, you. also you."

"my boyfriend?"

damn it, phichit hadn't intended to be so petty, but then again chris had shown up out of the blue before phichit was prepared to deal with him.

"yeah," phichit said, "your boyfriend. i saw him."

"i don't have a boyfriend. well, i have a sort of half-boyfriend but right now he hates me."

"so that guy backstage is your half-boyfriend?"

tone down the petty, phichit.

"no. my half-boyfriend is currently up on a stage balcony and hiding from me."

"oh."

there was a small pause after that, where phichit had no clue what to say and chris smiled down at the ground.

"everyone's telling me we need to talk this through but i don't know how to start," he said, and phichit closed his eyes against the bright theatre lights overhead.

"that's easy," he said, looking down at chris. "i'm not good for you and don't deserve you. the end."

"phichit," chris sighed, rolling his eyes. "look, don't be like that - "

"it's true," phichit laughed, shrugging. "i'm the complete opposite of being good for you. i am the literal definition of those artsy fucking tumblr aesthetic pictures saying "you gave me panic attacks and i called it love." i repeat, i am no good for you, chris."

"i gave you a panic attack, actually," chris said in a more serious voice. "i'm so fucking sorry."

"no," phichit said firmly, "no. don't say sorry. you don't get to say sorry. you have nothing to be sorry for, i'm not letting you say sorry."