He ran after her. He knew he shouldn't. She didn't want him. She didn't need him. He eyes had gotten to him. They displayed the feelings she refused to share. Her hurt, her anger, her smile. The love she refused to show the world. Her ambition clouding her senses, she refused to let anyone close.
No one else saw. The 'Ice Queen' doesn't have feelings. She did...once upon a time atleast. All eyes focused on her. Not because of her talent, but, because of her happiness. Her love radiated off her in waves. Somehow, it became frosted. Her eyes glazed as she stared at him. It used to be love in the brown orbs, but now, it was nothing. A bleak emotionless being. Somehow, she had changed. Adapted to a life without anyone.
"Sharpay..." he called softly, knowing she was here. This was her place. She had shown him when they first arrived at East High. It used to be theirs. Now, he had left. Abandoned her for his friends. She had outgrown him. Learnt to live without his love. He wanted her back.
"What do you want?" she snarled, her eyes narrowing. She hated him. He wasn't what she needed anymore. He had left to be loved. He had left her alone. In need of a shoulder, and he turned away. She hated him.
"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping closer to the shaking girl. He could see the wetness on her cheeks. They sparkled in the light. A glimpse of feeling. A touch of hurt. She was feeling. He ignored the hate in her eyes. He knew she hated him. He had turned away. Left her in the dark. But, he wanted to make it right. She always held his gaze.
"Get out Bolten," she whispered, turning her head away from his searching gaze. She didn't need him now. She had her dreams. She had her brother. She had her life. He wasn't apart of that. That was his choice.
"Are you okay?" he repeated, kneeling before the fallen girl. Her eyes close, and her head was turned away from him - but, he knew she needed him. He was the only one willing. They used to be...something. Neither could describe it. It wasn't friendship, it was something else. They could feel the others presence. They knew how the other felt. It wasn't love, it was too strong. They were connected and he wanted it back. He needed it back.
"I'm fine," she bit out, glaring at the audacity of the boy. Here he was, kneeling infront of her, his blue eyes pleading - but, he had ignored her for three years. Let his friends scathing words sink under her skin. Let his eyes trail sadly after her. She didn't need fake apologies. She didn't need fake friends.
"Sharpay...your lieing," he sighed, rocking back on the balls of his feet. He always knew when she was - she got defensive. She built up a wall around herself, and only she could knock it down. He used to be able too. He used to be the one she ran too. She used to tell him everything. There were no secrets between them. She needed the truth and he needed her.
"I don't owe you anything Bolton," she stated, crossing her arms. She stared at the boy. He never came after her before. He would always sit back. Not including himself in the battle of words, but never stopping them. Never would he defend her. Never would he look her in the eyes - not when she was hurt.
"You used to tell me everything," he whispered, hurt lacing his tone. He needed her to understand. He couldn't move. Not from where he was. She needed him. He could feel it deep within his skin. The blood coursing through his veins called to her. Remembering her touch. Remembering her love. Remembering their love. No one could replace it.
"I didn't change that Bolton, you did," she replied, her own voice quiet. She was surprised. He was hurting. Just like her. He was regretting. The hurt she was causing him hurt her. She could feel the connection. Brimming between the surface of her skin. Clawing to become free. She couldn't let it.
"I think...I made a mistake," he sighed, finally falling. He sat opposite her, knee to knee, eye to eye. His regret clear in his tone. He had tried to replace her. God, he had tried. Gabriella, she was amazing. Brown hair, big brown eyes and a heart of gold. She wasn't a match for Sharpay. She was incredible. Driven. Wanted. He knew the stares of others. He had seen the approaches. He clenched his fist as he remembered. Rage boiled below the surface.
"We all make mistakes Troy, some are just more real than others," she said, placing a tender hand on his cheek. He needed this. He needed the forgiveness. She couldn't give it. He had caused too much hurt. She couldn't forgive and forget. It wasn't in her. He needed to earn it. He needed to show that he truly cared.
"I'm sorry," he choked, leaning into her touch. He had missed it. The tender feel of her hand. The perfect way their bodies fit together. She hadn't touched him in three years. He was craving her touch. Anything. A brush of fingertips. A stroke of the arm. Lingering eye contact. She wouldn't give it. She ignored him. Turned away just as he had done to her.
"So am I," she whispered, tears entering her own eyes. She pulled her hand back, not missing the hurt in his own at the action. They needed to start anew. But, he needed forgiveness first. She couldn't give it, not yet. It was too soon. He needed to show his love. She would not be a secret.
"I need you Shar..." he begged, placing his own hand on her cheek. He smiled slightly as he saw her lean into the touch. Kissing his open palm. A shiver ran through his body. It was more passionate. He needed to touch her.
"I'm sorry," she stated, pulling out of his grasp. Tears slowly made their way down her cheek. She stood, gazing down at the broken boy. He was hurting, anyone could see. But, so was she. She needed to heal before opening again. She walked past him, seeing the longing in his eyes. Turning back, she looked closely at the boy. He was crying. Heartbroken sobs. It wasn't love, no, it was something more.
