His happy mood dropped a little when Connor demanded to know where he'd been.
"I texted you," he said, frowning as he pulled out his phone. His nails had been freshly painted sometime during the day, a testament to at least something he'd gotten up to during the time he was gone.
"No you didn't," he says. "If you did, it obviously didn't send."
He spots Troye's nails, which were now painted. "Again, where were you?"
He was quite hurt that Troye had lied to him. He hadn't gone out to get anything, but he sure had gone out for something.
"Tyler wanted to apologize for being a dick, so I agreed to meet him." He nudged the door shut with his foot.
Unsure of where he should move to, he stayed by the door, biting his lip. "I wasn't going to be a heartless asshole and not listen to what he wanted to tell me."
Connor sighed. "I get that, but there has to be more than that. It doesn't take all day to apologize to someone."
He didn't usually get mad at people. Maybe frustrated or upset, but hardly ever mad.
"Troye, I was sitting here, worrying that something had happened to you all day! I just-" he pauses, trying to calm down before he starts raging. "Just tell me what happened."
"I figured since I was going out, I might as well meet him today instead of tomorrow. We got some early lunch, and he explained what had happened. After some initial hesitation, he roped me into going some other places with him. I told him I had to go home, but he pleaded with me to do one last thing with him. 'Lets go get our nails done!' He asked. I said yeah, and then came home after." Troye's eyes flickered around the room, unwilling to look at Connor.
Connor nodded, before looking down, chewing on his lip. He didn't even know what to say. Troye had left him all day for the dick who broke his heart in the first place.
"It's not my fault the text didn't send. Plus, I'm 20 years old, I can handle myself. I never asked you to worry about me." He shifted uncomfortably where stood, itching to escape back to his room before this had the chance to escalate even further.
Connor scoffed slightly. "Well what the hell did you expect me to do? I didn't get the text, and had no clue you had other plans for today, and so I was sat here. I couldn't stop worrying, because what if something had happened?" He raises his voice ever so slightly, before running a hand through his hair. He sighs quietly.
He had lied about the not knowing he had plans part, but at the same time he wasn't because he didn't know that they were meeting today.
"You didn't know I didn't had plans? Really?" Now Troye was raising his voice as well, getting mad. "You saw my text from Tyler this morning didn't you?" He snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. Troye had seen Connor look at it while he had been making tea but hadn't thought anything of it until now.
Connor has nothing to say. Shit, he thinks to himself. He looks down, crossing his arms too.
"That's not even the point," he says, in attempts to save himself from the hole he has dug himself into. "The point is, I was worried about you."
"Why? Because I kissed you, and now we're involved? Because before that all you felt was pity for the poor boy whose family hated him, and now you have to be bothered to worry? Is that the fucking point?" He narrowed his eyes, anger burning in the pretty blue pools.
He looks up, shoots Troye a glare. A strong glare, at that. "Shut up. Just shut the fuck up, because that's not even why, and you should know that," he says, narrowing his eyes as well, but still glaring at him. "The point is because you were gone way longer than I expected."
As much as this argument is hurting him, he wants Connor to really mess up just so he can prove that no one stays with him for very long. He's scared of these feelings he has for the brunette, and he doesn't know what to do.
"You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you for not trusting me, and fuck you for making feel something for you!" He yells, storming off to his room. He immediately locks it, feeling his tears begin to run down his cheeks.
Connor groans as Troye storms off. He runs off to his own room, before slamming it shut. He sits in front of it, his knees hugged to his chest.
He puts his hands in his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and tugging on it a bit. Tears are at the brink of falling. He was scared of losing Troye, really, even if he was so mad and upset at him.
Troye quietly packs all of his clothes into his backpack, putting his sketchbooks in the middle.
Once all but one are in, he grabs the remaining one and flips to a new page. On one side, he draws Connor and Troye kissing, and on the other he draws them fighting. He tears the page out and leaves it on the bed, putting the book in the bag and zipping it.
He removes the bag of coffee he had purchased from the hoodie Tyler had loaned him, swinging the backpack over his shoulder.
As he unlocks the door and walks out, he throws the coffee bag at Connor's bedroom door before silently running to the living room and out of the green-eyed boy's life.
Connor has tears running down his cheeks, and feels something hit his door.
He isn't bothered to check until a few minutes later. He gets up, wiping the tears from his cheeks, before opening the door. He looks down, seeing the bag of coffee. He kicks it aside, before seeing Troye's bedroom door opened, with him not in it any longer, nor any of his drawing books, and a few more items.
He sees a single paper, with a drawing on both sides. He looks at them, but it only makes the tears come again.
He runs out of Troye's room, and checks everywhere in the house. But Troye wasn't there.
The boy with the most suffocatingly-beautiful blue orbs of eyes had left, out of his life.
He had lost the boy whom he loved the most.
A/N: #Sorrynotsorry. Although, I may have cried a bit. I don't know about the co-author, xxForeverWonderingxx , though.