“You’re a fucking weirdo, Thomas,” Alexander whispered. “And I fucking love it, no matter how much I don’t want to.”
A second of silence; two, three, four, fi–
“Look at me, talking to myself. Well, I wouldn’t say to myself, as the guy I’m hopelessly in love with is lying a meter away in a separate bed but y’know, what can you do?” Alexander huffed slightly, before going silent for another few seconds. The room was eerily quiet; Thomas didn’t even know that Alexander was still awake.
He lied still; Alexander didn’t need to know he was awake. He could shrug it off, go back to normal tomorrow, and pretend he hadn’t just heard his enemy confess his love.
“I don’t even know what I’m saying. It’s four in the morning and I’m here, whining to myself. God, I need to get a life.” Alexander wiped a hand over his face. “I might as well work. Should I work? I mean, I’m not gonna be able to sleep, I know that for sure. Yeah, I think I’m gonna work.”
Thomas heard Alexander scramble out of the bed, throwing his quilt off himself.
“See you later, shithead.”
“Hey, Alexander,” Thomas said the morning after. It turned out that, for once, he was wrong. He was not able to go back to normal, to shrug it off and pretend nothing had happened. The thought, the confession, lingered in his mind whenever it could; he barely managed to get any work done, if he were being honest.
“The guy I’m hopelessly in love with.”
God, Thomas didn’t know what to do. So, what better thing to do than confront Alexander. Surely that would go wonderfully. Thomas wondered how it was possible for him to be wrong twice in a span of two days.
“What do you want, Jefferson?” The way he sneered Thomas’ name made Thomas flinch. “Leave me alone; I’m working.”
“What?” Thomas replied in his usual tone. “Won’t even give me a chance to explain why I’m talking to you?”
“Nope! Leave me alone or I’ll leave instead.”
“Wow, Hamilton, calm down. For once, I’m not here to argue.”
“Then why are you here? The only thing you can enjoy is arguing, well, that, and not doing their fucking work.”
“I thought you’d be used to it by now.”
“How do you manage it?” Thomas asked, and Alexander frowned.
“Manage what? To annoy someone I hate?” He replied, still confused.
“To treat someone you love the way you do.”
The world froze.
Alexander froze too, his face transformed into one of shock, his stance stiff and almost… scared. His hand gripped the papers too tight, crushing them slightly, though Alexander knew that was the least of his worried. He stayed like that for some time, and Thomas didn’t move too, just stared, watched, analysing Alexander’s reaction.
Then the world started again, and Alexander moved towards the door, so quickly that Thomas almost didn’t manage to stop him.
“Where are you going?” Thomas asked.
“Move,” Alexander replied, his tone sharp. “Now.”
“No,” Thomas replied. “I want an answer.”
“Well, you’re not getting one. Move, now.”
“Answer me, then.”
“God, you’re insufferable.”
“Says the one.”
“I don’t love you,” Alexander replied, then laughed slightly, though it sounded more out of nervousness than humour. “Is that good enough? I don’t even know where you got the idea.”
“Why don’t you try last night, at around four AM? You sounded pretty serious, talking to yourself and everything.”
“Jesus Christ, I hate you.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“What are you going to do about it, then?” Alexander replied. “So what, I love you. What are you going to do? I answered your fucking question so let me leave.”
“What if I were to say I love you too?” Thomas asked.
“Well, it wouldn’t be true so please don’t.”
“Okay, you’re right but what if I said I liked you too?” Thomas corrected.
“If you really liked me, you’d let me leave,” Alexander said.
“Fine,” Thomas answered. “Go.” He moved out of the way, and Alexander nodded and quickly left.
They never talked about this conversation again. Or did they?
this is an invitation for someone else to continue it. i want to see some of your writing.