Angelina heard herself calling Ashton’s name. She ran after him, her feet pounding on the pavement. She caught up with him and grabbed his arm, spinning him around. “Hey, wait up! Where are you going?” she asked, her voice breathless and desperate.
He looked at her with a cold and bitter expression. He jerked his arm away from her grip. “I’m going home. I don’t feel like celebrating,” he snapped, his tone harsh and angry.
She felt a surge of guilt and frustration. She tried to smile, to lighten the mood. “Come on, don’t be like that. You did great in the quiz. You were only two points behind me,” she said, a cheerful, encouraging tone in her voice.
He shook his head, his eyes dark and sad. He clenched his fists, his body tense and rigid. “Yeah, well, that’s still a loss. And you know how much I hate losing,” he said, his voice low and bitter.
She reached out to touch his shoulder, to comfort him. She wanted to make him feel better, to make him happy. “I know, I know. But it’s not the end of the world. It’s just a quiz. It doesn’t define who you are or what you can do,” she said, her voice soft and soothing.
He shrugged off her hand, his gesture rejecting and hurtful. He turned away from her, his posture closed and defensive. “Maybe not. But it still hurts. And it makes me feel like I’m not good enough for anything,” replied Ashton, his voice hollow and hopeless.
She felt a pang in her chest. She wanted to tell him how she really felt. How she had always felt. But she was afraid of his reaction. She was afraid of losing him.
“No, that’s not true. You’re good at so many things. You’re smart, funny, creative, kind, generous…” she said, sincerely.
He stopped walking and faced her again. He glared at her with a mix of disbelief and resentment. He raised his voice, his words cutting and cruel. “Stop it. You don’t have to lie to me. You don’t have to pity me,” he said, his voice loud and accusing.
She felt tears sting her eyes. She felt her heart ache in her chest.
“I’m not lying to you, or pitying you. I’m telling you the truth. And I’m telling you because I care about you,” she said, her voice earnest and emotional.
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deception or manipulation. He saw none, but he also saw something else that made him wary and doubtful. He said, with a hint of hope and curiosity in his voice, “You care about me? Liar.”
She felt a surge of courage and honesty. She decided to take the risk, to reveal her secret. She looked into his eyes, trying to convey her sincerity and affection.
“No, really. I do. All this time, I thought I hated you. I even led myself into thinking that. But the truth is,” she stuttered, feeling nervous and vulnerable. She saw his eyes widen with hope, but she also saw the doubt in them. “It’s just jealousy. I really do care about you.”
He blinked in surprise and confusion. He asked, with a mix of incredulity and curiosity in his voice, “Then why didn’t you tell me before?”
She sighed and lowered her gaze, feeling ashamed and guilty.
“Because I’m aromantic, and didn’t want to break your heart or lead you on,” she whispered.
“Aromantic?” he repeated, sounding puzzled and intrigued.
“I don’t like anyone romantically, and don’t want to. I don’t need romance in life either.” She paused for a second before adding with a small smile: “But… I’m still questioning my identity, and…” she said hesitantly: “I’m willing to take a chance with you.”
He frowned and shook his head slowly: “No thank you.”
She looked up at him again: “What? Why not?” she asked: “Don’t you want to be with me?”
He sighed and looked away from her. “Because I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t love me the way I love them… cause I don’t want to be with someone who’s unsure of their feelings.”
He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again with a firm, steely look. “Because I don’t want to be with someone who’s only using me as an experiment.”
She felt a wave of hurt and anger wash over her. “That’s not fair. That’s not what I’m doing!”
She clenched her fists. “I’m trying to be honest with you. I’m trying to give us a chance.”
He took a step back and raised his hands defensively: “A chance for what?” he asked, gritting his teeth. “To break my heart? To hurt me? To leave me?
She felt tears roll down her cheeks. She felt her voice crack: “No, no, no.” She shook her head: “That’s not what I want.” She reached out to him: “That’s not what I mean.”
He moved away from her and crossed his arms over his chest: “Then what do you want?” He asked: “What do you mean?”
She wiped her eyes and tried to calm herself. She tried to explain herself, to make him understand; “I want… I want to be your friend. I want to be your partner. I want to be your ally. I want to be your companion… your…”
He interrupted her and said firmly “Stop it. Just stop it. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re just confused and scared and lonely.”
She felt a surge of indignation and defiance. She said firmly, “Maybe I am. Maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. That doesn’t mean I don’t value you. That doesn’t mean I don’t respect you. I’d been lying to myself for so long. I really do want to be your friend.”
Ashton sighed. “But it does mean you don’t love me. Not the way I need you to. Not the way I deserve to.” he whispered.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Angelina pleaded, “Please, don’t hate me.”
He closed his deep blue eyes for a brief second, feeling a surge of pain and regret. He opened them to look into her green ones, which were filled with tears and confusion. He spoke with a soft and sincere voice, trying to convey his sadness and honesty. “I don’t hate you. I never hated you. But I can’t be with you, no matter how much I want to. Not like this. Not anymore.” He saw her lips tremble and her eyes widen, as if she wanted to say something, but he turned away before she could. He walked away from her, leaving her alone and broken.
Forever? Yes.
This time, for real.
ns 15.158.61.21da2
