nineteen ☀️

6K 215 676
                                    

MAGNUS ;

"You're an idiot." Blitzen had told him over the phone, in speaker mode. "Said Hearth."

Magnus nodded, even though the gesture had not been any help at all since Blitzen wasn't there. He had called him just to tell him the stress he had been through, and telling him what happened that night. Magnus sighed, I fucked up. He told himself. And you know that little voice inside your head? The one that always replies: You always do! Magnus had wanted to slap that little voice, because it told just the right term for what his life was. He had always fucked up.

"Tell me something I don't know." He said under his breath as he laid down his bed, papers were scattered over the bedsheets—filled with poems and proses that defined his heartache. Some had scribbles of broken hearts or stick figures. He can't believe he's ending his year in a mess of heartbreak, but then again after the day tomorrow, he had to keep his composure erect again to bask in the glory of studying. He was in his second year, apparently he had to do great for his scholarship to continue on. He needed to prosper and gain a better life that isn't summed up in two words: fucked up.

     "Well, I'm telling you this, kid. Talk to her, stop always giving people time—you need to tell her what you feel, or lose her." Blitzen said in a matter-o-factly. Magnus groaned and turned on his stomach, he muffled his screams on a pillow and let out a sob of discomfort.

     "I don't want to lose her, Blitz." He said as he brushed up his hair that loosened on his forehead. He stood up and got his towel and fist pumped. "Not like this!"

     "That's the spirit! Now go and take back your girl. Me and Hearth have a date to go to, behave while we're out okay?" Blitzen didn't let Magnus say anything, maybe because he was simply pumped up for their date as much as Magnus was pumped up for taking his girl back. Either way, Magnus ran up to the bathroom, washing his face and feeling better than what he felt earlier. He tried his best burying down all the shitty feelings he had felt earlier and put a steel frame on.

He had built up the words he was to say to Alex—and he didn't want to mess up. Not one bit, not anything at all. He needed Alex back in his life, even as only a friend. He didn't want to lose her, as much as she did. But of course, Magnus doesn't know that.

He put on a proper green sweater, somehow it was the best thing to wear. He hurriedly walked down the stairs to the ground floor, and made his way out of his apartment building. He entered the building adjacent to his, and counted his steps to Alex's room. He was debating with himself if he wanted to talk to her through their kitchen windows, but that would be less sincere for him. He wanted to tell her how he felt if he had a chance, and he didn't want to do it in a kitchen.

As he was about to knock on Alex's door, it quickly opened and Alex hurriedly ran out, bumping onto Magnus. The two stumbled down the floor, Alex tackling Magnus down to the floor. Before anything, they hurriedly and irritatedly adjusted their composure. The two of them stood up, and simultaneously cleared their throat. Magnus was nervous, but here it goes.

"Uh." Great, Magnus! That's great! He scolded himself when the awkward part of his soul came out to party and wallow in the self-loathing he felt. Then, he quickly willed his strong will to punch that part down beneath his psyche. He breathed in, calculating how Alex looked today. She had bags under her eyes—probably the same reason as why Magnus had his, her hair was kind of messy, but it was her signature kind of messy. It was the most beautiful mess Magnus could've thought of.

f a m i l i a r i t y. - [fierrochase]Where stories live. Discover now