[WORD COUNT: 2800]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

'I don't think I'll ever get over his smile.
To be honest, I don't want to'
— Unknown

You regret it, as there was no turning back.

In a fit of rage, you had turned as smashed your mirror. You never knew you had such a strong right hook until your fist was propelling at the glass, breaking in the middle as it came into contact. That was your favourite mirror, and now it had been broken into tiny pieces all over your bedroom floor. You didn't care about the broken pieces sinking into the balls of your feet as you walked across your room, or the blood oozing out of your knuckles, or the tears flowing down your cheeks as you saw the endless polaroids now scattered and torn on your carpet.

You needed to escape, somehow. So, throwing on a pair of grey ripped jeans and your midtown hoodie, followed by your converse, you slammed your bedroom door shut and ran downstairs, not even bothering about your keys as you left, leaving the door unlocked.

The tears had stopped but the pain remained, partially because of the burning holes in your feet now pouring with blood and seeping into the soles of your shoes. But you kept it subsided, as it was enough dealing with the stabbing sensation cascading over your heart. This is wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were supposed to go through this like a cool breeze, not letting happen what you told yourself you wouldn't. You just had to be an emotional bitch, as per usual.

For maybe two miles you had no idea where you were going, and made it to the middle of campus before making a beeline for Michelle's apartment. It was rare that she would leave her sacred woman cave, so you were praying the world wasn't against you just this once. You reached the main entrance door and buzzed in for her, waiting for her answer.

"Hello?" her voice came through the intercom, allowing your heart to settle lightly.

"Hey, MJ, it's me" your voice was slightly horse from the crying, but you hoped she'd blame it on the shitty connection through the intercom. You weren't one who took given sympathy well.

"Come on up" her voice was cheery as always as she buzzed you in, the door unlocking. You moved swiftly from the speaker and up the stairs to her dorm, your feet dragging slightly on the carpet as you trudged down the hallway to her dorm room. Fortunately, like yourself, MJ wasn't one for roommates, so you would actually be able to have a one on one conversation with her.

You knocked on her door maybe twice before she answered, holding the door for you while you stood there. You couldn't get a word in before her face dropped, body shooting forward towards your forehead.

"Shit, Y/N you're bleeding" she moved the small strand of hair covering your forehead away from your skin. Your heart skipped a beat. Since when where you bleeding on your forehead?

The mirror. 

"Oh, uh yeah fell off a step ladder" you shrugged it off, dabbing your finger on your skin to see the crimson covering your fingertips. "It's nothing, can I uh, come in?" you swallowed, brushing past MJ as she nodded, rubbing away the blood on your jeans.

"Since when were you one for heights? Last time I checked you wouldn't even sit on the bleachers with me" Michelle chuckled, closing the door and following you into her living room where you sat quickly, hand running through your hair. However, you dodged her question, making it a little obvious that there was more going on here.

"Have you seen Peter?" you asked roughly, hands fiddling with the sleeves of your jumper.

"No, uh I haven't" she answered quietly, taking a seat next to you. You were a mess, rocking on the spot with your eyes glued to the floor, "is there something going on between you two?"

"Going on? What? No! Why would you even ask that?" you snapped, looking over at her with stone cold eyes. Michelle swallowed, sitting back.

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"I'm sorry... Fuck I'm sorry, I'm a mess" you sighed, head falling into your hands. Your heart was racing and you needed to calm down before you had a panic attack. This was nothing to be getting so worked up about, you and Peter hit a rough patch, oh well right? So why was your mind screaming that there was more to this? What was Peter not telling you?

"Hey, just take a breather, okay? I'll get you some water and we can talk about this" she rubbed your back gently, receiving a shaky nod from you. She checked you over once more, a worried glance in her eye before moving away cautiously to go and grab you a glass.

you sat there catching your breath while she was away, feeling the cotton of your jumper mixing in with the scabs forming on your knuckles: pulling away caught the growing skin making them bleed twice as much.

"Hey, uh, you got any bandaids?" you shouted from the living room, rolling up your sleeves just past your wrists.

"Yeah I think so, living room cabinet top drawer" she yelled back, her voice echoing over the walls. You swallowed, looking around the room and spotting the chestnut cabinet her TV sat on, moving over and opening the top drawer where bingo, there were some bandaids.

"So, not to be that guy or anything," Michelle wandered back in, carrying two glasses of water, "but you've come to my apartment on a school day of all days, with a bloody forehead and your hella stressed. So, care to help a friend out and tell me what's going on?" she placed your drink down as she watched you carefully applying the bandaids to your knuckles, and a larger, thicker padded onto to your forehead.

"Well, thankfully your not at school but why?"

"Answer my question first" she sighed, sitting down and taking a sip of her water before placing it down on the ground. You sucked in, taking a deep breath. You'd only just applied the bandaids and already you were picking the corners, which was something you tended to do when you were nervous. You couldn't tell Michelle, period. She would freak out. You and Peter had been friends for years and you knew if it were her and Ned, or even her and Peter you would feel oddly weirded out.

"I... Me and Peter got into a fight this morning" you sighed, gritting your teeth together to prevent yourself from crying again. You could save those tears for more important things.

"He did this to you?!" She shrieked, making your heart clatter against your chest.

"What, Michelle, no!" you raised your hands, "no, no, I... I got mad and smashed my white wood mirror, plus you know Peter couldn't hurt a fly even if he wanted to"

"But you loved that mirror"

"I know" you smiled for a second before your face turned back to a frown again.

"You two never argue... Well, not if it's anything else but who gets the last Mike Ike when there's an odd number in the box" she smiled with a sigh, remembering all the times the pair of you had gone professional boxer style and KO-ing on one another just for the last piece.

"Exactly..." you confirmed, teeth gnawing on the inner side of your lip. Michelle gestured for you come to sit with her, which you obliged and moved over.

"So, what got you two so worked up?" she quizzed. You loved Michelle, but she was one for getting the nitty-gritty, not because she liked to 'stir the pot', but because she cared about her friends and would always say if need be, she would 'throw some rounds' on either one of you.

You took a deep breath as your mind cooked up the perfect lie, but you had nothing. All you could do was tell the truth, in a vague manner.

"M-me and Peter have been... We've got this agreement" you began, resting your arms on your lap, "and when we started we said that no matter what we would keep our honest opinions to ourselves"

"And one of you didn't"

"Well neither of us did" you clarified, looking up to Michelle who had her head tilted in sympathy. "We've sort of been lying to each other this whole time and... And now I know, kind of how Peter feels, and he knows how I feel... I guess we just didn't like each other's opinions"

"And now he's mad at you?"

"Mad is a bit of a harsh word to use. He's... He's confused?" you scrunched your nose lightly.

"Yeah, I get that" she nodded, moving her head to the side to look over at the TV. "You want me to talk to him about it?"

"No, it's okay. I should be seeing him tonight at Chloe's party" you shrugged, standing up to retrieve your glass of water.

"You're really going to that? I thought you couldn't stand Chloe?"

"I didn't say I was going for her, I'm going for a good time" you cocked your brow, taking a sip of the ice-cold water. "You should come"

"And leave my woman cave, your mad" she snickered, shaking her head as she flicked on the TV.

"Okay then the least you could do is come help me pick out an outfit" you pleaded, turning around to fully face her.

"I don't know, it means leaving my apartment and... Socialising" she fake shivered, making you giggle.

"Okay, now that's a mood"

Somehow, as if by magic, you had managed to draw Michelle out of her apartment. Now you were walking through the mall, counting down the hours as you passed multiple shops, non-doing exactly what you were looking for. You had bought maybe one item, which consisted of a blush pink jumper with Tom Cat on the front from the famous cartoon, Tom and Jerry. You'd been walking around maybe half an hour, and already you could see Michelle was getting fed up.

"Come on, I just need some jeans and I'm done" you encouraged, nudging her shoulder gently, "you're being very brave"

She scoffed, making you giggle from the sarcasm.

"Hey what about here, they look pretty cool?" Michelle pointed to a nearby store which, indeed, did look quite interesting. You shrugged, following her as she pulled you across the mall towards the opening and ventured inside. The store was filled with the pure smell of fresh leather and new clothes, so much you could feel your money backing up in your pocket.

"I'm gonna have a look around, there's a seat over there if you're really that tired" you smiled, waving Michelle off without taking an answer before venturing towards the back of the store where the woman's clothing was usually kept. There were numerous pairs of jeans, but one specific pair managed to catch your eye.

They were a denim blue, as were 90% of the other jeans, with rolled up ends and small rips along the thighs and knee caps. They were stretchy as you tugged at the waistband, and for a reasonable price.

"They'd look good on you" a voice called out from behind. You snapped around, looking for the owner of the voice when your eyes landed on non-other than Kyle Devenshaw. His smug smirk only grew as he edged closer to you, admiring both your body up and down before looking at the jeans you still had your fingers traced around.

"What the fuck are you doing in the woman's section?" your eyes widened in pure confusion as you gave him the look of 'what the fuck are you'. He held his chest as if offended.

"Saw you walk in here and thought I may drop a hello-"

"Yeah well, you've done that already, bye" you waved a hand before taking the jeans from the rack and carrying them through the store to the cashier. It was right there, right in front of you. But of course, then was Kyle.

"So, I heard you'll be at that party tonight?"

How the fuck-

"Oh, so you're a trained stalker now?" you frowned unamused, leaning on one foot as he continued to tower over you. Not to lie, he was good looking, but the attitude was enough to even drive Chloe away. And she was a manhunter.

"All I'm asking is if you've got someone to go with?" he kept that dirty smirk on his cheeks as he brushed off all of the already obvious declines and factors that you wanted to be anywhere but next to him.

However, you didn't have anyone to go with, and you sure as hell knew Michelle wasn't interested. If you said yes, then you would have to show up with someone, as he wasn't the guy to just drop it.  He'd make sure you were telling the truth. Plus, Peter was out of bounds now. But, if you said no, he would accommodate you until you agreed to go with him.

"What are you asking, Kyle?" you sighed, rolling your eyes as he rubbed his hands together as if he had planned this all out in that... Disgusting mind of his.

"I was thinking maybe you'd go with me. I mean, a hot girl like you needs a hot match, right?"

"Oh give me a fucking break" you pushed past him. Hell no, where you going with a douche like him. But now there was a queue for the cashier. Not getting out that easy.

"So, should I pick you up at seven or eight, the party starts at seven but we can always show up late, let us have some alone t-"

"Next please" the cashier called. You turned to Kyle.

"Look, as nice as it sounds, I think I'll just go alone. Not that you would be much company anyway" you pat his chest, "and don't even think about 'i'll try again next time'" you mocked, "because there will never, ever, be a next time" you narrowed your eyes, sending him a clear warning before spinning on your heels and placing the bag down in the jeans down in the bagging area before searching for your purse.

"You'll regret that, whore" he brushed your shoulder harshly as he passed you, knocking you slightly but you quickly redeemed yourself. You bit your tongue, temptation flooding your veins as you desperately wanted to turn and lash for the knee caps. But you knew that would only give him the satisfaction, so you remained still, heart pounding and blood boiling.

After paying, you headed calmly out of the store, engaging in another conversation with a now excited Michelle at the fact that she could now go home. And it sure as hell wasn't long before you were alone again in your apartment, bags in hand looking over the mess you had made.

You dropped the bags of clothing you had collected over the day and began cleaning up your apartment. Maybe then you would be able to get your mind in a better place. You'd fallen out of love for the place you called home and you accumulated at the fact that maybe that was the reason you had been pretty stressed lately. So now, cleaning up, took more and more weight off of your shoulders.

Up stairs you knew would be the challenging part. As that's where the more... Personal mess was. You'd avoided it for a while, running back over already clean and polished items downstairs before adding some procrastination and finally getting up to your bedroom. It was dark and hot. The glass was still shining on the floor, along with the torn polaroids and other various pictures. This was going to be a bitch to clean. So, there you harboured every vacuum and brush you owned, which consisted of one, into your room and began what felt like a seven-hour cleaning session.

Some photographs you were more heartbroken over than others, because most of them were of you and Michelle in your first summer years, now swirling around in the vacuum chamber. It was pointless attempting glueing them back together, as most of the corners or middle parts were missing. So now you were at least thirteen images down, mirrorless, a sweaty mess and had exactly half an hour to get ready for the party, which included making your own way there. This was going to be a long night.

　.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

How was that? I planned it differently, let me know your thoughts 💞🍁🙏💭