We let the bough break
We let the heartache in
Who’s sorry now?
Who’s sorry now?
What Kind Of Fool || Darren Criss Cover
She was a mess.
The trace of tears on her face was evident, the wet streaks carrying along with it the applied eyeliner. Her nose was red, her eyes puffy and bloodshot; her lower lip trembled miserably, and as much as she tried to stop it, it continued on, showing the misery that she felt on the insides.
In front of her, the corridors flooded with the usual traffic, students filing past one another like robots, only throwing the female offhanded glances, at that. Her head was thrown into her hands, her knees slowly curling up towards her chest as she did her best to hide her face from the on-lookers. She was Hope Whitlock for fuck’s sake, not…this girl. Not this girl that was crying her eyes out over some stupid guy.
The thought passed through her mind, not helping at all. She let out a sob before shaking her head and gulping down over a lump in her throat. She sniffled slightly, letting herself look up from her perch on the floor. Her eyes followed many of the gossiping fifth years, much like herself. She shook her head again, going back down and hiding her face-a move that was quickly countered by a hand on her shoulder.
Hope’s head raised quickly, eyes wide and alert like a deer caught in headlights. Sitting in front of her was a male, his eyes staring at her strangely. His hand was placed upon her shoulder, his brow furrowed.
"Hey, a-are you okay?" The boy stumbled on his words, seemingly perplexed at the sight of Hope crying. She felt the need to hide her face from this boy she didn’t know, and yet she kept her head up, her eyes locked with his. She didn’t say anything for a while, but she quickly sniffled one more time, bringing her hand up to her eyes and wiping away a stray tear.
"I’m fine," she said, nodding best she could; she was afraid that any more words and she would choke on them. He didn’t seem convinced. "Did something-" he was unable to finish before Hope was glaring at him.
"I’m fine," she persisted harshly. "I-I don’t even know you, it’s none of your business. Please, just leave." He seemed taken aback at this, and he huffed angrily, standing up from his seat next to her. He kept his eyes on hers, softening for a minute before he bent back down, sitting right next to her this time. She looked over at him, and her lip quivered.
The two sat there, in silence, for an hour. After the time ran out, Hope cleaned herself out and thanked her best friend, Bryan Foster.