@hitundo | ≬ | “ i like you. because you’re different. ” (from jeremy <3)
The two boys are crowded together on the beat-up old sofa that sits in Jeremy’s living room, the way they always seem to be these days; Fern never really feels settled anymore, unless they’re together. Usually, he’d be smiling and cracking jokes, or turning on some new video game for the two of them to play, but he’s been uncharacteristically quiet this afternoon. He just doesn’t have in him to be lively and excited. He doesn’t feel like doing much of anything, actually — except maybe curling up under a rock somewhere and withering away.
Okay, so maybe that’s being a bit dramatic, but it’s been a really shitty day.
His mom had lectured him again on the drive over, having heard from one of their neighbors that he’s been ignoring most of his old friends; of course, she’d turned it into an excuse to criticize every little flaw and fuck-up she could think of in the moment. And Fern can’t stop fucking thinking about it.
Jeremy had noticed something was wrong right away, and Fern was just too tired to lie this time. Too sad and angry at himself to hold back the rant that bubbled up his throat until he was spewing out a horrible, pathetic confession about how much of an outsider he feels like most of the time. Telling Jeremy that he was different from all his old friends, and about how he’s different from his brother, and how all of it added up to nobody liking him at all — and when he finally ran out of steam, Jeremy’s response was simple.
Yeah, Fern is different, but Jeremy likes him anyway. He likes him because of that.
Breath hitching, Fern presses his face into his friend’s shoulder to hide the fact that he’s tearing up now. Nobody’s ever liked him for him; they’ve always wanted him to be someone else. Always wanted him to be more, to give more — but not Jeremy. He might be the only one who knows who Fern really is, and he likes him anyway. That means everything to Fern.
“Thanks,” Fern mumbles, voice muffled in the fabric of his friend’s shirt. He doesn’t want to move yet; his throat’s still raw with unshed tears, his heart too fragile to face the world yet. “I like you, too.” Duh. What a stupid thing to say.
“Um. Sorry I just, like. Dumped that all on you. I’m fine, I promise; it’s just... been a shitty day. I just need to be dramatic about it for a second.”