Archive of Our Own

Valentine’s Day was an alright day.

It was just the same as yesterday and it was doing to be the same as the next. Nothing special aside from the added drama, as everyone else scrambled around to tell every other person that they liked them and would they please maybe go on a date with them. It was a spectacle to see to say the least. They were teenagers, there are all still teenagers.

And Laurence was just glad he wasn’t apart of it. Did he think that this was all some elaborate scheme by companies to sell more to unsuspecting people? Absolutely. Did he think he was a little too mature for all this nonsense? Probably. But was he also going to deny all the free chocolate he was getting? Hell no.

Their high school had set up a scheme that for just a few bucks you could buy a handful of valentines to give to whoever you wanted. Laurence was just lucky enough he’d won the genetic lottery and was conventionally attractive, despite his standoffish personality, nothing more. And yet almost every girl, and even a few guys, had came up to him in the past week and had these little things pressed into his hand, sometimes with a little slip of paper scrawled with their number - he burnt all of those in a small hole in his backyard. However, as he was showered with all these trinkets and as he calmly tried to let them out, he couldn’t help himself but drift his glaze over to a certain blond.

Garroth.

It wasn’t a surprise he was being hounded after by nearly everyone in the school. He’d had a small group twittering after him since February started. He was attractive. That was a fact, just like how the sky is blue and the sun is yellow, and how they’re just small people living on a big blue marble that was spinning about in space. But not in the in-your-face, drop dead gorgeous kind of way, he was more subtle than that. It was in the way his eyes twinkled in the sun, his light hair catching in the wind or the way he held himself, so immovable and yet so languid. The way he talked with a smooth, almost innocently posh, tone that he could’ve been saying the most vile things know to man and people would still take it as a compliment. How he acted with such an easy and gentle manner it was hard to ignore, his kind hands and gentler smile. With typical chivalry that you’d’ve thought would’ve died long ago and even be considered condescending nowadays, was kinder in the unconditional way he went about it. He gave everyone a second or even third chance and was selfless to the point of stupidity.

But.

Those people who trailed after him like lost puppies didn’t think of him like that. He was also a Ro’Meave, his father owned the largest company in the region. He was rich, bluntly, really rich. Those people only cared about how thick his wallet was and how much they could siphon off. That was probably one of the reasons Laurence was friends with him in the first place, that and he’d been nice enough to drag him out of a dark time in his life. He was the thorn in his side that shoved these people out.

But it was still Valentines. Spirit of the times and all. And he’d been foolish enough to buy one of the damned things.

The garish white and pink paper was crumbled in his shaking hands. This was a mistake. He’d nearly panicked in front of everyone, clutching this paper in his pocket like his life had depended on it as his face flushed bright red. He couldn’t do this, he shouldn’t have got it in the first place. It had been for him. The small message inscribed inside seemed pointless, in his sloppy sideways handwriting. He stared it down, like he could somehow erase the pen and leave like nothing happened.

It was the end of the day. And Laurence felt like it was the end of his life too. A black hole was eating up at his insides and he trudged away, he wasn’t going home, he couldn’t stomach the crowded bus right now and then the cooped up nature of his sister’s measly apartment. Too closed in, too claustrophobic. There wasn’t a place he thought he could go. Friends where out of the question after he’d made a fool of himself, he couldn’t face Garroth at all, not now and not ever, anyone else would’ve turned him away, Aphmau’s mother would’ve killed him if he turned up asking to speak with her daughter.

As he walked further from school, a small idea drifted through his head. There was a place he could go. It was a small area behind a nearby corner shop, sandwiched between it and the off-licence, there was a fallen down brick wall. He used to sit there with the rest of them, those bad people, with Sasha and smoke, sometimes they would vent to each other about nothing in particular. But they didn’t go there anymore. Not after Laurence left, thanks to Garroth’s help.

He dropped the trivial bit of screwed up paper on the ground as he tried to find to nerve not to care. Dumping his bag, he shuffled uneasily on the rough brick, fingers scraping on the uneven surface it was something to feel other than the black hole in his chest. A hand knotted itself in his hair, pushing back the loose strands before tugging off the band that kept it up, letting it fall about his face. Not bothering to hide his grimace at the orange ends, the dye was still growing out leaving the top its natural mousey brown and the ends a burnt umber.

For a moment he flicked the hairband against his wrist. He just needed time alone. Think through things before swallowing what little pride he had and making the journey home, he could think of a lie for his lateness on the bus, then flopping on his bed and pretending today never existed. It seemed like a good plan. But the nerves still scratched at his insides, as if the black hole draining him down to nothing wasn’t enough, clawing for his attention. Nerves were never good, they made his tongue swell and limbs shudder. With his partly intact arms, he patted himself down, searching for his lighter. He was trying to quit, he really was, he vowed to himself he would. But to hell with whatever he vowed now. Then shaking down his jacket pockets for his own pack of cigarettes. They’d last him a while yet.

Once it was lit and stuck to his lip, he breathed it in. It was a practiced ritual for him, in for five, hold it until he could feel the smoke fight to escape his lungs, out for five. With the nicotine fix strongly in his veins, his head was starting to clear. Make him forget for a few minutes, miss serval buses, and take the time to breathe again. Instead of relying on ineffective, hitching breathes leaving him more breathless than he already was as he tried not to let the tears bother him. For a moment it was fine. Here was a break. Just to get away. Breathing in smoke, he could almost kid himself into thinking he was inhaling the ashes of his own failures, it was stupid and pointlessly edgy but hey he was a teen. He wasn’t focusing on anything, he even thought the gravel made nice little patterns when he scuffed his shoes through it.

His head was finally empty. No thoughts buzzing about his mind like gnats or waylaying each other as he tried to cram them back into order, fighting for his limited attention as all he wanted to do was scream. The only buzz he had was nicotine.

“You know you’re not supposed to be smoking?”

Laurence choked on the smoke in his lungs. Spluttering, he turned to see who’d disrupt his small moment of peace from the day. He almost cursed under his breath when he saw him. Garroth. Of course, it just had to be, didn’t it? But- How the fuck did he, of all people, find him?
“What?” He coughed. He hope to the Gods he didn’t notice the slip of damp paper on the ground, but with its bright colours it was hard not to.
“Smoking‘s bad for you.” Plain and simple
“Don’t you think I know that.” He’d had a thorough chewing out from Cadenza when she first found out. He still shuddered at the thought.
Garroth rolled his eyes and came over to sit next to him.
“What’s up?”
Laurence snorted.
“What.” The tone incredulous.
“Somethings gotta be wrong for you to say that.” He giggled, as he flicked the stub of the cigarette away, watching it burnt out and die before forcing his gaze back to the person beside him.
“Well, you’re the one who left without saying anything.” Nudging him in the ribs.

“How’d you find me?” Laurence couldn’t help the sigh that left him.
“Easy. Called your sister, when she told me you weren’t home yet. So I called Aph, said she hadn’t seen you either. So I figured you’d be hiding somewhere.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Then what are you doing here.”
“Being alone.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s not.” He stressed. How could someone so easily worm their way under his skin so quickly?

The emotions were back, full force, his fingers itched for another cigarette. No. He couldn’t. He’d promised- He gripped the slab beneath his hands with such force he could fell his skin starting to split. Something to feel. Something to take his mind of it. Garroth noticed and his face softened almost immediately.
“Hey, hey, hey.” He said in a tone that meant he was trying to calm him down, as he grabbed his hands in his. Laurence didn’t miss the face he pulled once he saw the white torn skin. “I’m serious, what’s wrong with you.”
What wasn’t wrong with him.
“Nothing.” Laurence was lying through his teeth and he knew it, he tried to tug his hands away.
Garroth’s eyes wandered away as his released his grip.
“I’m not going to press in where I’m not wanted.” He sighed, placing a tentative hand on Laurence’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “But I want to help you.”

He couldn’t help. Not with this.

He wanted him so badly. That was the problem. Maybe that’s why he pretended to hate him so much, because if he hated him then maybe he’d forget he loved him. And if he could do that then maybe it would be fine. That one tiny thing that hurt him more than anything. He just wanted him to want him the same way he wanted him. Like that made any sense, because if they both wanted each other then maybe this wouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

That’s probably why he brought that stupid valentine in the first place, because if it happened to blow up spectacularly in his face then he could pretend it wasn’t from him, he’d written it in his worse right hand instead and he didn’t sign his name on it, pretend it was from someone else, one of the many people that trooped after him to get even an inkling of his attention. Because who in there right mind would love him back. Sure, he had family that loved him dearly but they were family, that’s was what they did, and he loved them back more than anything.

But he was Laurence, standoffish as he was with an amount of baggage that he didn’t want. Stuck between houses, a grey little question mark in other peoples lives, his dad had won custody over him but that didn’t stop his mom from butting her head in asking to see him again and again. Living with his sister in a cramped little apartment because dad was saving up for a house over in Phoenix Drop to be back with him as he went to school, whilst his stepdad working just as hard to make ends meet back home. He just wanted to be home with them most the time. He loved his, technically stepsister, Cadenza more than she knew but even she wasn’t around much anymore, she had a fashion degree going in university and an apprenticeship with one of the biggest magazines companies here, she was always busy and he couldn’t get in the way of that. He was just a little blip caught between places and people. That was how he’d found himself in a bad crowd earlier, and now with new better friends he found out their ways weren’t the easiest to shake off. He wasn’t a good person to be around. At least he had the decency to be honest.

Garroth couldn’t help him. He’d already done so much. Be his friend, have his back, when nobody else would, when he had no reason to. He couldn’t ask for more. He’d just be selfish then, he wanted to be anything but selfish.

But he was only fifteen, his birthday was months off. He was still a kid right? He had a right to be sad or mad or whatever about all this. Things still hurt him.

Instead something broke in him. Feelings about today regardless, something finally gave, snapping like an over worked cord, he could feel the wetness building up behind his eyes.
“You can’t.” He sniffed.
Garroth reacted before his mind had time to catch up. He probably heard the wetness in his voice or something in his eyes, the tears clouding them from their usual bright viridian green. He pulled the smaller into his arms, gathering the pieces of him against his chest. It felt safe, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and the arms around him were so careful and yet strong but if he wanted he could still move away. He didn’t want to. Gods this was hurting him more, the black hole was replaced by something warmer but that still would burn him alive if he stayed here for much longer.

“Please tell me.”

Laurence shuddered as a breath caught and rattled against his chest. “I don’t want to feel like this.”
“Like what?” He was asked tenderly.
“Everything’s too much. I can’t concentrate. I can’t do anything. I-I…” love you. He was shaking too much to talk, he was half glad it cut him off but another side was shrieking at him, madly jumping about and tugging at his heart with its sharp claws. But Garroth just held him close, giving another small reassuring squeeze.
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through but I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. I swear. I’m not going to disappear…” How could you make such promises at sixteen. He either really meant it or he was insanely stupid.

Just like him.

There was something comforting about that fact. Not in the millions of promises he was muttering out to him in the hopes that one of them would sooth whatever was happening in his head - but the fact they were still teenagers. Stupid, ignorant, reckless, teenagers. Teenagers who made silly promises and mistakes to each other all the time.

Laurence took a deep, shaky, breath and leaned back, but Garroth kept his hands firmly on his shoulders.
“Thanks.” He whispered, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.
Garroth made a face that wasn’t quite sure exactly what he’d done but was grateful he’d helped in some way. “No problem.” He let his hands drop.
“I, um, need to-“ Laurence made vague gestures over to somewhere beyond this little place as he dropped off the wall. Cadenza would probably wring his throat out by the time he got home for being this late what with his house being on the other side of town and the fickle nature of the buses doing whatever they wanted.
“Hey, I think I owe you one.” Garroth caught him by the wrist before he could get too far.
“What?”
“That was something clearly personal to you. So I think I owe you something.”

Laurence was dumbfounded. What.
“Come on, I get you like a drink or there a little ice cream place not too far.” Garroth tugged on his wrist gently trying to lead him away.
“But- I kinda need to get back,” A hand rubbed on the back of his neck uneasy. “Cadenza will kill me if I’m any later than I already am.”
He thought for a moment. “I can drive you home afterwards, just tell her that then?”
Wait, what. “You have a car?”
“No it’s my dad’s company car and this guy Anthony drives it.”
He has a fucking chauffeur.
“Christ, you are rich.”
“That’s why were friend ain’t it?”
Yeah just friends.

He paused and Garroth’s grip fell away. When he looked back to him, he just waved him on motioning he’d catch up in a bit. Garroth gave him a small smile before leaving.

Once he was out of sight, Laurence leaned down to the crumple, now damp, bit of paper. Now that it was in his hands it wasn’t so bad, the writing was still just as legible as it was before, just a little smudged. Maybe he shouldn’t give up so easily. He’d never backed down before, why was this any different? Feelings, rejection. He ignored those darkening thoughts. Instead he shoved it back into his jacket pocket and jogged a little to catch up with Garroth. The other clapped his on the back and they made their way down the street with his arm resting on his shoulders as Laurence flicked off a quick text off to Cadenza, telling her where’d he’d been.

Just like old times. He told himself.

Ice cream soothed his healing heart a little bit. Especially since Garroth let him get whatever he wanted and told him not to worry about paying him back. He was too good like that. It even felt remarkably normal, he’d even manage to tease him about getting ice cream in February when it was still somewhat cold outside. But it was normal, he’d almost forgotten about the little note resting in his pocket or their little moment beforehand. Though Garroth was a nice man and didn’t bring it up in the slightest, instead he just vented about the numerous people clamouring for his attention which in all honesty Laurence didn’t mind, the poor guy deserved a break.

But before he knew it he was sitting in the leather backseat of a very impressive looking car as a kind looking man with an easy smile, that he assumed was the chauffeur Anthony, drove him home. Though he couldn’t see him through the darkener window separating the front and back half of the car. Leaving just him and Garroth alone in the back seat. Laurence had never been in a car this nice, mostly he had to contend with his dad’s old beat up wagon and his stepdad’s flat bed truck, nothing this sleek and elegant. The leather soon felt tacky against his skin as he tried not to shift about too much, but Garroth was as ever adept at making idle conversation. So he tried to focus on that as the car swung around bends and headed towards his apartment complex.

“I’ll admit I’ve never been over on this side of town.”
Yeah cause this is were all the undesirables live. Nothing like your ivory towers. He wanted to scorn at him, but it was an innocent enough question.
So he settled on. “Yeah. It’s a little rough sometimes.” He neglected to mention the tenants down from his floor had their door kicked in because they couldn’t pay rent. But it was the only place Cadenza could afford with her limited income whilst having to support him too. He tried not to feel like such a burden to her, he knew she could probably have a better place if he hadn’t came to live with her because Meteli’s own high school was a literal nightmare for him. Garroth would never have to deal with anything like that.

They settle into an uncomfortable silence neither of them wanted to beak.
“We’re here.” Laurence was almost too glad for Anthony’s cheerful voice announcing they’d arrived.
“I should get going then.” Laurence mumbled, hiking his bag strap higher on his shoulder, as his fingers reach for the door.
“Wait. I’ll walk you up.” Garroth reached for his respective door and got out.
“Ever the gentleman aren’t cha?”
“You know me.” He said with a quick smile and a shrug.

Garroth followed him into the towering building. Walking quickly through the lobby, Laurance gave a small wave to the elderly desk lady as they proceeded to the back where the elevator and stairwell was. He felt himself audibly curse at the broken elevator, they still hadn’t fixed it, it’d been broken since he’d arrived nearly six months ago.
“That’s fine. What floor do you live on.” He heard Garroth say behind him, he’d probably just sounded like this was the first time he’d seen this thing broken before.
Laurence gave him a sympathy smile. “16th.” It was a high rise apartment block - what did he expect?
But Garroth already looked visibly nervous. This wasn’t a very comfortable situation for him.

He didn’t said much either as Laurence lead him up the sixteen flights of stairs, he was keeping his gaze down focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the litter cluttering up his peripheral vision. And he couldn’t blame him, he was out of his depth here. Here, nothing made sense to his squeaky clean version of the world. But Laurence assured him that he was fine, which in hindsight was probably the least comforting thing he could’ve said. Garroth kept quiet as Laurence fumbled about for his keys before stepping back as the lock clicked open.
“How about you come in for a bit? I think there’s something I could get for you.”
It uneased him to see Garroth so on edge, he was usually so calm and collected, he’d have done anything to see him relax.
“Yeah, I could spare a few minutes.”

Laurence pushed the door open for him, calling out for Cadenza saying he was home and he’d brought a friend for a little bit, and once he heard her sweet voice reply, he ushered him in dumping their bags at the entrance before locking the door behind him.

The first thing that happened once he’d walked the small distance down the walkway, was crash head first into Garroth’s back, and jeez, it was like butting heads into a brick wall. Before he could protest why the fuck he’d stopped so abruptly, he caught sight of his flush face and the reason why. His sister. She was clattering about in the small kitchen, whatever she was cooking making smelt heavenly - some kind of stew he was guessing, but that wasn’t the reason either. It was what she was wearing. She was dancing about with her personal playlist blasting out of a bluetooth speaker, her red hair wavy back at them, but she was wearing a pair of very short shorts and her favourite sports bra, she’d probably just been on her daily run, as while as a cheesy ‘kiss the cook’ apron tied behind her back. It didn’t help matters.

“‘Denza.” He half whispered, half yelled.
“What?” She said spinning on her heels to face them. The amount of cleavage showing wasn’t helping either. “Oh, who’s your friend there.” She smiled, wiping her hand on she apron.
“Garroth, miss.” He said curtly. Laurence was surprised he was still able to use his voice.
“Ah,” She gave Laurence a knowing wink. “You don’t have to call me that love. Have a seat.” She motioned to the sofa nestle in the corner, before she finished something in the kitchen, clicked off the speaker, ditched her apron on its designated hook, and disappeared down the far hallway.

Garroth sat stiffly on the couch, playing with his fingers, as Laurence sat next to him, he batted him playfully on the chest.
“Relax.” He looked like he would suddenly go twang like a strung up bow.
“Your sister is something.”
He nudge him with his sharp elbow, trying to disrupt his worries, he’d never seen him so quiet before. “Don’t get any ideas, she seeing this lad on the floor below.” He was trying to lighten the mood.
“What. No,no,no. I was thinking anything like that.”
Laurence chuckled as he watch Garroth turned redder than he already was.
“I’m only joking.”
“Thank Gods.”

“Do you want anything, like tea. Or something?”
Something in his hands would stop him from wringing them together like he was trying to twist them off.
“Mhmm. Oh- yeah. Tea would be nice.”
“How’d you take it?”
“Milk, no sugar.”
“Mkay.”
Okay that was easy, he could do that. House guests, all that catering stuff, wasn’t his strong suit.

He hopped up and went into the kitchen, he could still see Garroth over the low wall that divided the kitchen from the small living room, still trying to strangle his own fingers like they owed him. Instead Laurence busied himself with making tea. Flicking the kettle on, finding a mug, a tea bag, milk from the fridge, etcetera. He did notice that they were distinctly missing sugar, when he gave the tin an experimental shake, and felt glad that Garroth hadn’t asked for any. He didn’t want him pitying him. But not long after he walked out with a steaming mug of tea, and placed it into the blond’s hands.

Cadenza walked in, now dressed with a baggy t-shirt and grey joggers, and took up a seat. She gave them both a warm smile and from then an easy conversation formed between them as Garroth took small sips of his tea. It was about nothing in particular, Cadenza was good like that too, idle conversation. Laurence would’ve sat in uncomfortable silence forever if he hadn’t been roped in too, he still fiddled with the note in his pocket.

However after an indeterminate amount of time, Garroth gave a soft cough, a mere pleasantry to make himself known, as he placed his still quite full mug on the coffee table.
“Where’s your bathroom?” He asked.
“First door on the right, the one with the brass handle.” Cadenza kindly pointed over the back of the sofa down the corridor.
“Thanks.” He said and got up, disappearing from view.

After a brief moment of silence, Cadenza shot him a knowing glare, Laurence could feel himself curling in.
“You like him don’t you?” She asked teasingly.
“No I don’t.” He said huffily
“Honey it’s obvious you do.” She leaned forward, placing a hand on his.
“It’s not.” He tried to stress, yanking his hand away, but it was hard to lie against her.
She lounged back into the sofa. “Really? You haven’t taken your eyes off him since you arrived. Besides look at your face.”
“What!” What was up with his face. Shitshitshit. He whipped his head around to try and catch a glimpse of his reflection in something, he was terrified his face was beet red.
Cadenza barked a gentle laugh at him. Got you!Sometimes he really hated her. But she was right.
“When are you gonna tell him?” She asked, her tone had changed, more gentle, more caring.
“Honestly, never.”
It was her turn to be confused. “What? Why? Its Valentines, it’s a perfect time.”
“Yeah, but-“
“But, what.”
“It’s not like he’d ever, you know like me back.” He sighed looking down at his feet. The only things tethering him to reality at the moment.

Cadenza immediately went over, sat next to her brother, and held his face in hers.
“Laurence.” She stressed, her voice now serious. “You’re the most kind and loving person I’ve ever known, people should be happy that they have someone like you in there life. And if they don’t then that’s their problem, not yours. He’d be stupid if he didn’t love you.”
She didn’t need to mother him, but all the same he smiled weakly. Without realising it he absently squeezed the note.
“What you got there?” Jeez, she had eyes like a hawk.
“Nothing.”
She rolled her eyes at him. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to hide something from her, she always found out in the end and Laurence could tell she didn’t believe him. Hesitantly, he brought the slip of paper out of his pocket, placing it into Cadenza’s hand. She open and scanned the note briefly before her face broke out into a warm smile that panged his heart painfully.
“You should give this to him.” She told him plainly with a look that meant not to argue with her. “He won’t know it was you.”

Laurence held his tongue. It pained him enough already that he didn’t know, if he knew, what then? There was a whole mess of uncertainties and what ifs clouding his mind, too many little questions made it impossible to know for sure. He took a deep breath. Cadenza was too kind to him too.

Getting up, he took the valentine from his sister, he needed to act quickly. His body moving quicker than his mind could keep up with, he nearly skidded painfully on his knees once he dropped down in the hallway. Forcing his fingers to cooperate with him, he manage to tug open the front pocket of Garroth’s backpack, which he didn’t look too closely at before shoving the note deep into it, all he knew was that he used it frequently, he was likely to see it before the day was out, before yanking the zip closed and dashing back to his seat on the couch. Once back he sighed like he’d just had the biggest weight of his life lifted off his shoulders. Cadenza gave him a sympathetic look, she looked somewhat proud of him.

Garroth came back quickly, holding his phone in his hands, small rectangles of bright grey splotches meant he’d been texting someone.
“Um… I need to get going. The car’s been waiting awhile.” He shuffled a little on his feet, something else was on his mind, forcing him back into a ridged perfect box. Laurence tried to hide the scowl that briefly flickered on his face, he could take a big guess on what that something was.
“Oh, okay.” Cadenza broke the silence for him. “I’ll walk you down then.”

She got up and Garroth left with her. Laurence almost immediately went up to to convenient window that looked out over the front of the building, a little while later he was able to pick out his sister’s bright red hair walking behind Garroth. Once he got in and the car pulled away, Laurence knew that she was giving a tentative wave, as she always did for him, and then she stayed there until she would’ve been able to see the car anymore before going back into the building. Right then, Laurence bolted into his room, closing the door harshly behind him and flopped onto his bed, face down.

The nerve were churning up his gut worse than ever, what had he done? Garroth was a smart enough guy, he’d be able to tell that the note was from him. The thought twisting in his stomach - he felt like he was going to be sick. Instead he rolled over, pulled his pillow against his chest and screamed into it. Soon after the screams gave way to choked off sobs. It felt- No. It was pathetic. Crying over this. He shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. Slowly the sobs turned into sniffles as his body hiccuped through it.

He couldn’t tell when he heard the latch of his door open and someone walked in. It was Cadenza obviously, but to his mind it could’ve been whatever his head willed it to be. But she gave him a small squeeze on his shoulder, and when he didn’t turn around to look at her, she leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his fluffy mop of hair, ruffling it gently before leaving.

She’d leave him be for however long he needed it.

She’d been a teenager herself not too long ago and recognised that sometimes they didn’t appreciate someone butting their heads into their business, especially those in an authoritative role - like her, she was basically his mother at this point, this was one of those times. As long as he came out at some point to eat then she’d be happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Garroth thanked Cadenza for walking him down to the car, because he was surprised that people lived round here, the dim corners made his nerves prickle like nothing else and so uncomfortable that it was nearly painful, as if someone could suddenly jump out at him for god know what reason. And he thought that Cadenza knew how he felt. Older siblings had an uncanny ability like that.

It was almost the best feeling in the world, once he was sitting in the leather backseat with his bag dumped on the next seat, a sense of relief with the normality.
“Anthony, home please.” He surprised himself with how well put together his voice still was. He watched as Cadenza gave him a little wave as the car drove on, which he returned with one of his own. She was really nice. More so than he was expecting with how Laurence talked about her, mainly how much of a nag she was, but then against he should’ve taken that with a grain of salt, they were siblings after all. Siblings had the tendency to be annoying, he should know he had two of the things.

A sharp buzz pulled him from his thoughts.

Feeling around he found it was from his phone. His lips pulled tight as soon as he saw the caller ID, his father.
‘Where are you boy.’
It sounded innocent enough on paper, but Garroth was already hearing it in the scorning voice he used, he was being talked down to. Like he was a child and not a teenager with more maturity than he ever thought his father had at his age. Instead he swallowed and send off a brief text, he wasn’t going to tell him he’d been in the so called rough side of town, if he did he’d have been shipped off to O’khasis’s boarding school fast than he could’ve said anything.
             ‘In the car, Anthony’s driving me home.’
Almost instantly there was a reply.
‘How long will you be.’
                                                   ‘15 minutes.’
‘Can you make it quicker.’
No question mark, it was a demand.
‘No dad I can’t control the roads, you entitled son of a bitch.’
Instead he typed a different response:
                 ‘Staying off the main roads then 10.’
Looking up, peering at the dark outline of his driver.
“Anthony?” He asked.
“Yes?”
“Father wants me back quicker, can you do that?”
“Of course.” He felt the car move as it shifted to a different, quicker route.
Looking back down Garroth could almost hear the disappointed noise he was being given, that still wasn’t good enough for him, between the small dots blinking back at him before they disappeared completely. That was his father’s subtle way of saying their conversation was over. Why did all their texts have to sound like a business transaction?

With an annoyed huff, he pulled his bag closer to him, tugging the front pocket open, he shut off his phone and dropped it in. However instead of hearing a dull thump as it hit the leather it was resting against, there was a small crinkle. Curiously, he opened the pocket wider, spotting a loudly coloured slip of paper at the bottom, a valentine. How did that get in there?

He could’ve sworn all the rest were buried at the bottom of the main body of his bag. Perhaps some strange girl, or boy he’d been asked by both, had slipped this into his pocket whilst he had his back turned, that seemed likely. He’d been getting looks since he joined this school in his freshman year, and both Valentines Day’s were perfect opportunities to pester him with empty words on tacky cards. This card, however, was looked like it had been to hell and back, it was creased, worn and written in sloppy smudged black ink. That was probably because it had been in his bag most of the day. He wanted to shove it back with the rest of the meaningless things, but something stopped him. He didn’t know what and he could’ve spend the rest of his days wondering why.

Instead he held it in his hands and opened it.

He honestly didn’t know what he was expecting. But it certainly wasn’t this. Maybe he was expecting some half-assed words about love or some empty poetic nonsense about him. Something dumb like comparing his eyes to gems of the sea, his hair like candle light or something. In other words it certainly wasn’t this. This felt personal. Meaningful in a way non of the others were. Someone, somewhere was pouring their heart out to him and he’d be a fool not to listen.

The little card said:
‘I know you don’t think the same way about me but, I thought about this for awhile and I realise I like you more than thought. I love you. It’s fine if you don’t like me back, I know I’m not the best person, I just needed to get this off my chest.’
                                       - Your Secret Admirer

The last line was the same in each and every card: signed ‘Your Secret Admirer’ but this felt different that all the others. The notion he had an admirer that actually loved him was close to being lost on him. What? This felt almost too personal. From the note they wrote it could’ve been someone close to him, and if they were, they were extremely good at hiding their feelings, or he was just oblivious. One of the two, probably the former but there was an equal chance it was the latter. He knew his emotional capabilities were lacking in a fair few areas.

But the sheer honesty this card held was enough that this wasn’t a joke, how could it be? It made a warm smile creep up on his face, he hardly noticed it, but he could feel the words turning over slowly in the back of his mind, the more logical side of his brain was trying to decode who this was from. He could’ve had the nerve to shut it up but he was alone getting more curious the more he thought about it. He didn’t recognise the hand writing, maybe it was it their non dominant hand, so perhaps they didn’t want to be found out. But the gears were already churning.

Though all he did was take a deep breath, steadying his head, folded the paper very carefully, he didn’t want an awful crease obscuring the writing, as lopsided as it was. And tucked it away in the inside pocket of his blazer, right over his heart. He could figure this all out later, there was a warm fuzzy feeling settling deep in his gut, and it felt nice? Was that the right word for it. It was more buoyant than sadness but still consumed every fibre of him, and more pleasant than guilt but still had the same deep feel to it. It was new and strange, but nice. That was the only word that fit right.

He could sort this out later. He’d have to find the note from almost everyone, his father was top priority, Zane was too curious for his own good and Vylad was too young to understand love and all this relationship business properly, at twelve he still thought babies happened through kissing; though that was there sheltered upbringing more than anything and all his private middle school taught him wasn’t helpful. Garroth’s nerves always twinge when he thought about him going off to public high school in a few years. And his mother was a question mark at the minute, he didn’t want to risk something slipping to his father. Placing it in a box at the back of his closet seemed a good enough place, though at the bottom of the locked drawer in his desk seemed a better bet.

Leaning into the leather seat, he sighed. He’d figure this out later. He repeated like a chant, running circles around his mind, all the way home.