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why’d it have to be him? [james marriott]

angst / fluff

word count: 2.05K

James always had a bit of a thing for you. You worked at the studio where he regularly recorded his music, so you met early on in his career as a singer and became fast friends, bonding over your love of indie music and other, significantly nerdier things.

You were always hugely supportive of his work, coming to every show he played in your city, always singing and dancing along from backstage. He couldn’t help but glance over to you whenever you were there while he performed, mesmerized by your joy. You knew every word to every song. Your eyes always stayed glued to him during his sets, and the brief eye contact in those moments somehow felt more intimate than every hug and quiet moment you’d shared together.

The more you got to know each other, the stronger his feelings for you became. But he kept it to himself, in fear of damaging a friendship so important to him.

Unfortunately for James, someone else had their eye on you as well. A newly single Mr. William Lenney. James’ best friend, naturally. Charismatic, confident, hilarious, good-looking, rich… just James’ fucking luck that he wants the same girl.

Of course, Will had no idea how James felt about you, and James was too stuck in his own head to be honest with him. So when Will told James he was going to ask you out, James simply held his tongue, smiled, and let the resentment set in.

--

YOUR POV:

You liked Will and James both, quite frankly. You felt a deeper connection with James, but Will was equally as lovely and attractive.

Why then, did it feel so… weird when Will asked you out?

You said yes, and happily, because you did enjoy spending time with him and who knows, maybe it could go somewhere. But this tiny lingering feeling kept you up that night. You couldn’t help but think about James.

Nevertheless, you were looking forward to your date with Will. You knew he would take you somewhere bougie and make you laugh the whole time. You walked into work the next morning with a smile on your face, excitedly telling your coworker about your date that night.

The energy in the room immediately shifted when James walked in that day, having booked studio time to work on the mixing of his new album. He looks tired and pissed, not even making eye contact with you when you say hi.

“You alright, mate?”

“Fine.” I’m not fucking stupid, you thought to yourself.

“Um, okay then. Let me know if I can get you anything, James.” You force a small closed-mouth smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, and leave.

--

JAMES' POV:

You sigh and slump in your chair as she walks away, your head in your hands. She hadn’t spoken to you like that, like a normal client, in ages. You’d long since shifted into speaking like friends, no longer bothering with the niceties and hospitality she would typically offer to customers.

Mate, get your own fuckin’ tea, you remember her telling you months back, both of you laughing your asses off once she’d dropped the facade of being a polite employee. That’s when your feelings for her began to change. When you heard her real, proper laugh for the first time.

You smile at the memory for a moment, and then your face drops even further.

So first, she agrees to date Will. And now she's not even speaking to you like a friend anymore? What the fuck, you thought to yourself.

--

YOUR POV:

You stand in the hallway, zoning out, trying to figure out why James seemed to be mad at you. What the hell did I do?

Your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Willing Knee: still up for dinner tonight? x

You: absolutely, can’t wait =]

Willing Knee: great, pick u up at 7 x

You smile at your phone.

Fuck it. If James has a problem, he can tell me himself.

You leave work right at 5:00 to get home and get ready for your date with Will. After a quick shower, you put on a nice black dress, hugging your body to emphasize your curves that you usually hide under t-shirts. Doing some light makeup and leaving your curly hair down, you throw your favorite leather boots on and take a final look in the mirror. It’ll do.

There’s a knock at your door, and you see Will through the peephole, clearing his throat and fixing his hair. He’s wearing slacks and a nice sweater, and he’s holding a small bouquet of flowers. Cute.

“Hi Will,” you say, opening the door with a smile.

“Hi, wow. You look lovely.” He swallows. “These are for you,” he says, handing the bouquet over.

“You’re so sweet, thank you Will. Come in while I put these in a vase.”

You quickly pop the pretty arrangement in a vase with some water, putting them right in the middle of your dinner table. “They’re beautiful,” you comment, taking a moment to admire them.

“They had to be as pretty as you,” Will replies, definitely feeling a little embarrassed about the cheesy compliment, but it makes you giggle.

You smile up at him, visibly blushing, which eases his anxiety a bit. “Shall we go?”

Dinner with Will is genuinely lovely. As expected, he takes you to a beautiful little Italian restaurant, a reserved table waiting for you when you arrived. You ate, drank, laughed — the conversation flowed effortlessly, as every conversation you’d had with Will in the past did.

As the night went on, however, the unfortunate truth set in. As much as you wanted to, you just weren’t feeling that way about him. He was a great friend, and undeniably handsome, but the lack of butterflies in your stomach was hard to ignore.

At the end of the date, Will drove you home and walked you to your door, as you wracked your brain for a way to be honest without hurting his feelings.

"Thank you so much for dinner, I had such a good time."

"Me too. You're a right laugh, mate," he replies.

You look up at him, the word "mate" lingering in the air.

Will exhales. "Look, I really like you. I think you're class. But I can tell you're not really feeling this."

You're surprised by Will's intuition, but you can't help but concede. "I'm sorry, Will. I think you're great, but maybe we should just stay how we are. I hope that's okay with you."

"Of course. You're a good lass, I like being your friend. Thank you for giving me a chance anyway."

You lean in to hug Will, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek as you pull away.

"Good night, Will."

You walk into your apartment and close the door behind you, watching Will walk away through the peephole and feeling a bit guilty.

--

JAMES' POV:

You force yourself to leave the apartment that evening to take a walk before bed. Trying to clear your head, you put your headphones on and let the crisp air hit your face as you drag your feet around the neighborhood.

You've been beating yourself up all day. You were too scared to tell her the truth for ages, and then you were rude to her today for no reason. How would she know how you feel if you never said anything?

As your head swirls with anxiety and regret, you see two figures down the road. You hadn't realized how far you'd walked, and suddenly you were standing at the end of her street.

Moving a bit closer, the figures morph from blurry silhouettes to two very clearly identifiable people: her and Will.

All of the reasoning and reconciliation you'd been doing in your head evaporated, quickly replaced by anger and jealousy. You watched as she leaned in to hug Will and... kiss him? Your hands ball into fists, and you turn around and storm home.

--

YOUR POV:

You try to shake the feeling of disappointment off as you settle in for the evening after your date. You so wanted to like Will the way he liked you, but you were grateful he took the reality in stride. You just hoped it wouldn't taint your friendship.

Your phone vibrates.

Willing Knee: by the way, it's none of my business, but I know for a fact James likes you as well. he hasn't told me but it's obvious. if he's too damn proud to say it then I will. g'night mate x

You suddenly feel stupid. How did you miss that?

Your mind wandered to James, just as your Spotify shuffled to play one of his songs. Him. You can't help but laugh at the universe.

have you ever been with a guy like that? out of everyone you could've had why'd it have to be, why'd it have to be, why'd it have to be him?

was it when you looked at him? was it because he thought he could be much more than I've ever been? was it because he wasn't me?

The distinct lack of butterflies you had felt at dinner with Will suddenly made the feeling in your stomach now so obvious. Hearing James' voice did give you butterflies. How were you so blind for so long? Of course Will wasn't the right one for you. It was James you wanted. And apparently, he wanted you.

The next morning, you didn't know how to act around him. He seemed even angrier than he did yesterday, but suddenly, you think you knew why.

"James... can I talk to you?"

"Busy right now."

"Please, I owe you an explanation."

He glances up at you, his curiosity getting the best of him even as he fought with himself to stay mad at you. "What about?" he replies, sounding fed up. "About how you kissed Will on your first date?" His jealousy getting the better of him. He looks down at his work, feeling somewhat ashamed that he was acting like a teenager.

Your eyes start to sting immediately. You close the door to speak privately, taking in a deep breath before starting. "James, please."

"No, I don't care. Go be with Will if you want to be with Will."

"I don't want to be with Will."

James looks back up at you, properly now.

"And I didn't kiss him last night. I kissed him on the cheek, after we agreed that we were better as just friends."

James hesitates, feeling guilty about his stupid insecurity making him accuse you of things that weren't true. "...Really?"

"Yes. And I really wish you'd been the one to tell me how you feel, instead of having to hear it from Will after I told him I didn't feel that way about him."

James stands up and walks over to you slowly. Stopping directly in front of you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. "I'm sorry. I like you so much. I didn't want to fuck our friendship up and then Will told me he was going to ask you out and I just didn't have the guts to tell either of you how I really felt about it."

You interlock your fingers with his. "Unfortunately, it also took me going out with Will to realize how much I liked you too," you confess. "A blessing in disguise, I suppose."

James goes pink, struggling to maintain eye contact with you. You lift his chin to look at him. He's so beautiful, and you would lose yourself in his eyes if you weren't so drawn to his lips. You stand on your toes to bring your face to his, wrapping your arms around his neck to close the gap between you. Your lips connect as James' arms wrap around your waist. Your eyes flutter closed, inhaling his musky scent and finally tasting him after months of both of you suppressing your feelings. It felt so right, he felt so right. The kaleidoscope of butterflies in your tummy filled you with a warmth you don't think you've ever felt before. James raises one hand to cup your face before pulling away to look at you. You look into each other's eyes before bursting out laughing again. It had to be him.

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