I want to be made out with
In the middle of the lawn
Surrounded by my dearest friends
Clueless to what’s going on
And one takes out her camera
And one starts taking pics
I want to be the emo boys
That every scene girl clicks.
I want to feel his lips
Pressed softly against my own
I want to hold him close to me
I want to hear him moan.

Vic put down his notebook realising that he was in fact supposed to be writing a poem for his creative writing class about a dream of his. The fact that this was the first thing that came to his mind should have been concerning, and what should have been even more concerning is that he still didn’t have an actual assignment for the class. He had until the next day to do it, but he wanted to relax tonight, not worry about work. He sighed and leaned back against a tree. He figured doing his work on the lawn would help take his mind off of his little crush but it didn’t- It just gave him new and different ideas.

Vic was hopelessly in love with a boy in his creative writing class- Kellin. And he definitely 100% did not want Kellin to remotely hear that poem, especially since it was about him. Even if Vic would never admit it. He opened his book again and started scrawling something new. Thinking about being unable to not think about this boy gave him an idea.

And so he wrote. He sat under the tree and scribbled away every thought on his mind and vented about how much he hated and yet loved this boy he’d never spoken to. He wrote about how his hair was so soft in appearance and Vic imagined how nice it would feel, and yet how it fell effortlessly across his forehead giving it the appearance that he’d woken up just like that- beautiful. He wrote about Kellin’s eyes and their beautiful hazely color that seem to change every time Vic sees him, and about his voice which was light airy and calming to listen to. After what felt like 5 minutes but was actually 2 hours, Vic was happy with his poem and decided to call it a night.

He let out a yawn and walked back to his dorm room.
____________________________________________________________________________

The next morning Vic went to his creative writing class and- as always- Kellin was there. He watched the beautiful brunette take out his notebook and open it up to his assignment, then doing the same himself. It was all so mundane but Kellin made it feel like so much more.
They went around the room talking about how they felt about the assignment- who thought it was easy, hard, just right, all of that boring stuff. And then the professor took volunteers to share their writing. Vic’s hand immediately shot up in the air and when the professor called on him he took a deep breath and read from his notebook.

“I despise every fiber of your being.
The way you make me feel,
How your hair falls in your face
And you push it out of your eyes
With their lovely hazel shade
So innocently
Like you don’t know what you do to me.
And you don’t.
You never will.
I hope you never will.
I hate how your laugh penetrates my dreams
And how I smile every time I hear your voice.
I love your opinions
And secretly I hope for you to speak your mind on this-
On my words
On my romantic confession to you,
No matter how anonymous I leave you.
And I will leave you anonymous.
Because I hate that you make me feel this way
And I know you’ll never feel the same.”

He closes his eyes as he concludes, waiting for Kellin to just stand up and start calling him a fag or some other acknowledgement or realisation that the poem is about him, but he doesn’t. The class continues on as normal and critiques the poem, pointing out things they like things they don’t things that could be better.

Kellin comments. It feels so surreal as he speaks and vic hangs on his every word.

“There’s someone I feel the same way about.”

Vic gasps quietly, silently wishing that it’s him.

Notes

so this is kind-of a one shot and kind-of a continuable thing it depends how many people actually like it or want to see more so let me know!!