A/N: HI I'M HIDA AND I'M GONNA ATTEMPT A SONG FIC DRABBLELY THING. It's pretty much in the same AU, but the chapters or whatever you wanna call them are not in order so ye. They may be depending on what song I'm listening to but for the most part no. Just as a warning. OKEY? OKEY. enjoy.
But I think he's here to stay. What more can I do. I'm wringing myself dry. And I can't afford to lose, one more teardrop from my eye.
A blank screen.
That's all it was. Just a blank screen with a black cursor taunting him and taunting him. All he had to do was just type out three words. Just three god damn words and he'd be okay. Alright and okay. Just type out I love you I've had a crush on you You're a really nice guy and do you wanna go on a date with me.
No, no no no. Alfred couldn't. Hell no. God jesus no. The fact that in the "To" was his name, his e-mail and all that mumbo jumbo, made it worse. Oh god, Arthur would see his name and he would be hated oh fucking god no don't even think of doing it Jones. God damn he was too fucking afraid to love him. Or like a lot. Or jesus fuck what the hell would you call that even. All he knew was he was a goddamn chicken.
But he had to tell Artie how much he loved him. He just had to.
Except well... Arthur was a guy. Like a really nice looking guy too. And dear god Alfred had had the biggest crush on him since Freshmen year. Except he kinda sorta stopped having a crush on him when he was a punk. That was just weird. Like... really weird. He's pretty positive he got a tattoo of a guitar on his butt. (Haha, a tattoo on his butt. Now that's something he'd want to see man. Wait, shit... Jesus fuck, he shouldn't be thinking of that... Oh god why did he think of that. What in the actual fuck are you thinking Jones?)
Okay, back to that e-mail.
Just what the heck was so difficult to type out how he felt about the dude, click send and then...
Oh yeah.
'Cause once he did, the usual process of freaking out would begin. Which starts with: sitting around for three minutes. Then five. Freaking out over not getting a reply within an hour. Starting pacing around in his room until Matt would barge in there and have to tell him to "stop walking around" because "[he] could hear [him] down the goddamn hall."
And repeat the walking around portion until at least until midnight or one o'clock or whenever he'd stop freaking out. Where he'd lie awake for at least who knows how long and just envision every single thing that could go wrong at school the next day.
And then something would go wrong.
Yeah.
He was pretty much too afraid to love Arthur Kirkland.
Great job there Jones.
So he just sighs and closes the e-mail.
