Because It's You

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: All Maeve ever wanted was to be seen as the person she really was, but she had not known. (Otis, Maeve)

All rights belong to Sex Education, Netflix


Maeve tried not to notice the unspeakable elephant in her own bed. The piece of blue sweater, hidden shamefully from the rest of the world under her own pillows. Still, it was there.

Otis' sweater.

She risked picking it up. Fragile and elusive, it was painfully the same as the boy who has come to be her close friend. Even so, the warmth she could still feel through the fabric, as if it still held his body heat within, still embraced her gently, and it hurt. Because she knew how much he cherished her, because she knew that she could have it all, and because-

If only-

No.

She remembered his side profile while he was kissing the small, strong (stronger than she ever was) girl. He looked, dare she said, happy.

She was too late.

It hurt. Yes, it did.

So what?

"Otis"

The name usually made her feel so safe. It still had the same effect on her, and Maeve felt herself calming down.

Honestly, she could go full-emo and just threw the fucking trophy he went and stole for her out the windows. Because her childish mind registered his kiss as a betrayal, the biggest betrayal he could have dealt upon her. She could go on full rampage and just destroy everything in the room. She could do that, but as soon as her eyes fell upon the scratch-and her name etched on the trophy, she felt her heart pulled and dragged, pushed and held.

Against her jealousy and hurt, she welcomed his gentleness.

She remembered the sandwich, the awkward smile-the hug and the sideway glances he threw her. Otis, he had always been shy. Especially around her.

Otis said that she saw who he could be, his potential, but he had no idea how much he had given her.

Despite the awkwardness, Otis never shamed her for her shagging antics. He always understood. Quietly, attentively, he was always there. It was not as if she felt victimized by the fact that many people saw her as a slag, no. She never cared. Her vagina was her own, thanks very much.

But he was always warm with her. He never judged. He was-he was-

She hugged the sweater close.

Otis Milburn was special. Always was, always would be.

How could she be so blind?


Author's note:

I love this Netflix series to death, I do.

This breaks my heart, still does, but I need to get this out of my system. LOL