“If I Say It, Let Me Take It Back”
This fic is HEAVILY based off of Bella Kay’s song ‘Promise?’ I hope you enjoy.
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Walker drops onto the couch beside you, grabbing a handful of popcorn from your bowl like it’s his.
“This movie is terrible, right?”
You snort. “It’s not terrible.”
“It’s so terrible,” he insists. “That acting? Criminal.”
“You’re literally an actor.”
“Exactly. I’m allowed to judge.”
You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder. “You’re so annoying.”
“Yeah?” he grins. “You love it.”
You glance up from your phone. “I’m not being weird.”
Walker squints at you. “You’ve been staring at the same TikTok for, like, five minutes.”
“Wow. Very descriptive,” he deadpans. “Super helpful.”
You sigh, locking your phone. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because,” he says like it’s obvious, “you’re my best friend. I’m supposed to care.”
The words sit heavy in your chest.
“Right,” you say quietly. “Best friend.”
Walker tilts his head. “Okay, what was that?”
“There was definitely a tone,” he leans closer. “What’s going on with you lately?”
You glare at him. “I’m not lying.”
“You are. You do this thing—” he gestures vaguely at your face, “—where you pretend everything’s fine, but it’s not.”
“Maybe everything is fine.”
“Yeah?” he challenges. “Then why does it feel like you’re about to disappear on me again?”
“You did it last time,” he says softly. “You went all quiet and weird and wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”
Because you can’t say it.
Not without ruining everything.
“You ever think about stuff you shouldn’t?” you blurt out later.
Walker looks over at you from where he’s lying on the floor, scrolling on his phone.
“All the time,” he says. “That’s, like, my whole personality.”
You huff a quiet laugh. “No, I mean… like, things you know would mess everything up if you said them out loud.”
Now you’ve got his attention.
“…Yeah,” he says slowly. “I guess.”
You pick at the sleeve of your hoodie. “What do you do about it?”
“Depends,” he shrugs. “If it’s important, I say it anyway.”
“Then I keep my mouth shut.”
You nod, staring at the floor. “Right.”
Walker studies you. “Okay, that sounded suspiciously specific.”
He sits up, nudging your knee with his. “You gonna tell me what this is about or am I supposed to guess?”
“Guessing would be a terrible idea.”
“Because you’d get it wrong.”
Your heart is already racing, and you haven’t even said anything yet.
“If I told you something,” you start carefully, “would you—”
He frowns. “Would I what?”
“Would you promise not to make it weird?”
“That depends on what it is.”
“See? That’s not reassuring.”
He softens a little. “Hey. I’m not gonna just… freak out on you.”
“Then give me the chance to prove it.”
You shake your head. “No, you don’t get it.”
And that’s your first mistake.
Because it makes everything worse.
“I want to tell you something,” you say finally, your voice barely steady.
Walker’s expression shifts, more serious now. “Okay…?”
“But you have to promise me something first.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That sounds ominous.”
“…Alright,” he nods. “What is it?”
“If I tell you,” you swallow, “and you don’t feel the same… you have to let me take it back.”
He blinks. “Take it back?”
“Like I never said it,” you clarify quickly. “No weirdness, no awkward distance, no… nothing changes.”
Walker stares at you, confused. “That’s not really how that works.”
“It has to be,” you insist. “Because I can’t—” your voice cracks slightly, “—I can’t lose you over something stupid I said.”
His expression softens instantly.
“Hey,” he says gently. “It’s not stupid if it matters to you.”
“It is if it ruins everything.”
“You don’t know that,” you cut in. “So just… promise me.”
And that hesitation makes your chest tighten.
“Why does it feel like I’m about to agree to something dangerous?” he asks quietly.
You let out a shaky breath. “Walker, please.”
He looks at you for a long moment.
“…Fine,” he says. “I promise.”
“Promise you won’t treat me differently?”
“Promise we stay the same?”
You search his face. “And I can take it back?”
“…You can take it back,” he agrees.
Silence stretches between you.
“Okay,” Walker says softly. “Now you’re scaring me.”
You let out a weak laugh. “Yeah. Me too.”
You shake your head. “I can’t.”
“You literally just made me promise—”
“I know, I know,” you groan, covering your face. “I just—give me a second.”
That’s what makes this so hard.
“Okay,” you whisper, dropping your hands. “Okay, I’m gonna say it, and then we’re never speaking of it again if it goes badly.”
The words fall out faster than you can stop them.
So you keep going, because now you can’t stop.
“I know we’re supposed to just be friends,” you rush, voice shaking. “And we are, I get that, I do—but I don’t feel like that anymore and I haven’t for a while, and I didn’t want to tell you because if you don’t feel the same then everything changes and I don’t want to lose you, so—”
His voice cuts through your spiral.
“I’m done,” you say quickly, standing up. “Forget I said anything, okay? I take it back—”
Walker stands too, stepping in front of you before you can escape.
“No,” he repeats. “You don’t get to just say something like that and then take it back two seconds later.”
“That was the deal,” you remind him weakly.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like the deal anymore.”
“Do you really think I’d just… pretend I didn’t hear that?” he asks, searching your face.
“I was hoping you would.”
You look down, mortified. “This was a mistake.”
“Hey,” he says again, softer this time. “Look at me.”
It’s not weird. Not distant. Not uncomfortable.
“You’ve felt like this for a while?” he asks quietly.
“And you didn’t tell me because you thought I wouldn’t feel the same?”
“And you were just gonna keep pretending?”
“I was doing a pretty good job,” you mumble.
He huffs out a small, disbelieving laugh. “No, you weren’t.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “You’ve been acting like you’re walking on eggshells around me.”
“You really think I don’t feel anything?” he asks.
Your heart stutters. “I don’t know what you feel.”
Walker runs a hand through his hair, pacing once like he’s trying to sort out his thoughts.
“That’s so unfair,” he mutters.
“That you didn’t tell me,” he says. “Because now you’ve been dealing with all of this alone, and I didn’t even know.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
“Yeah, well, I hate that.”
You swallow. “You don’t have to deal with it. I told you—I’ll take it back.”
“I said no,” he repeats, more firmly. “You don’t get to just erase it because you’re scared of my answer.”
Your chest tightens. “Then… what is your answer?”
And for a second, he seems just as scared as you feel.
“I don’t know how to say this right,” he admits. “So it’s probably gonna come out messy.”
“I think…” he hesitates, then exhales, “I think I’ve been trying really hard not to think about it.”
Your breath catches. “About what?”
“Because yeah—we’re supposed to be friends,” he continues. “And I didn’t want to mess that up. But every time you’d laugh at something dumb I said, or sit too close, or—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head, “—it got harder to ignore.”
You stare at him. “Walker…”
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to lose you either,” he finishes.
Then, barely above a whisper—
He lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”
“I know,” he half-laughs. “But it’s honest.”
You nod slowly. “Okay. Honest is good.”
“Do you still want to take it back?” he asks.
The way your heart is pounding right now.
A small smile tugs at his lips.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Me neither.”
Your heart is still racing, but it’s different now. Less panic—more… anticipation.
Terrifying, but not in a bad way.
“So… what does that mean?” you ask, your voice quieter now.
Walker lets out a breath, glancing down for a second before looking back at you.
“I think it means…” he steps a little closer, hesitant but sure at the same time, “we stop pretending we don’t feel this.”
You swallow. “And if it messes everything up?”
“Then we deal with it,” he says. “Together.”
You search his face. “You’re really okay risking that?”
He huffs a small laugh. “I think we’ve already been risking it for a while.”
“…Yeah,” you admit. “We have.”
Walker shifts slightly, like he’s debating something, then looks back at you.
“Can I—” he starts, then stops himself, smiling nervously. “Okay, wow, I suddenly don’t know how to do this.”
You let out a soft laugh. “Do what?”
“This,” he gestures between you. “Whatever this is.”
That seems to give him just enough confidence.
“Okay,” he says quietly. “Good.”
Another small step closer.
Close enough now that your breath catches.
“If you hate this,” he adds quickly, “you can totally take it back.”
You smile a little. “That’s my line.”
“Yeah, well, I’m stealing it.”
Your voice softens. “I’m not gonna take it back.”
He searches your face one more time, like he’s making absolutely sure.
Then, gently—carefully—he leans in.
Tentative at first, like he’s giving you time to pull away.
Your hand lightly grips his hoodie, and that’s all it takes for him to relax into it just a little more—still gentle, still unsure, but real.
When he pulls back, it’s only slightly, his forehead almost resting against yours.
“…We’re definitely not taking that back, right?” he murmurs.
You let out a quiet laugh, your nerves finally settling.
He smiles—small, but genuine.
And this time, when he leans in again—
There’s no hesitation at all.
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