A/N: I posted an update to Tumblr (thestoriestshit account, not the main one) about the Life Management fic and an AU fantasy fic about Rilaya that I'm working on. It'd be lovely if you guys could head on over there and check it out, tell me if you want the hints, like, reblog, etc. .com
[you're falling down, down, d o w n]
you seal your fate shut the same day you meet it. and oh, god, it's wonderful so far, you swear it's elysian, and look at this—six years old and you take your first step off the cliff to chase it. her.
(she fills your dormiveglid and curbs your wanderlust but you're delusional to think this is going to end happily)
something about the fairy tale that is riley matthews has you completely addicted. she's happy to balter about and spend all her time with you. you already know you would follow her anywhere so you sit yourself down on the edge. you're prepared to stay awhile.
(you wonder if this will crash and burn like everything else)
it stops being innocent the first time you dream of kissing her. she is still elysian and fills you with tarantism but now your mind slips between fantasies of kisses you will never exchange with those breathy inbetweens. you panic, these feelings are not normal and you can't afford them (can you afford anything, sweetie?) so you try to run away from the cliff—run, run, like you always do.
(she is temptation wrapped in an innocent bottle)
you trade racy heartbeats with some boy you met in art class in the janitor's closet the second you get a chance. he fucks you sporadically and cums much too soon but you pretend this is beautiful and perfect and you'll draw a picture of it later. riley hears about it right after and you can see her innocent eyes go wide. you've said too much and you're sure you've ruined yet another masterpiece but then she's hugging you. the cliff breaks away a bit and now it's at your feet again, you can't escape it.
(you want nothing more than to love her and have her love you)
she's straight, she's straight, she's straight. you're straight, you're straight, you're straight. but you feel like a big fucking liar every time you get to the second bit. it gets worse when she pulls you down to the couch with her, holding your hand, her head on your shoulder, and then you're both singing the theme song. you're not straight, you're not straight, you're not straight. you don't know what you are but it isn't fucking straight.
(she doesn't see the way she kills you with those doe eyes and perfect lips)
the two of you are halfway through eighth grade and you play the guitar for her. she sings because it's her favorite song of yours. but it kills you to hear her, of all people, singing it because she doesn't even know it's about her. but it is and it kills you to hear her beautiful voice going on about how she makes you feel. your heart is crumbling under her gaze, wide eyes sparkling, that glowing smile, she's so perfect and she doesn't even know it. she giggles and you're dead.
(you miss the innocence of before the first dream)
lucas fucking friar, of all people, finds you in the janitor's closet by yourself. he doesn't know about the boy from art class who just ran out to get a condom so he asks you what you're doing in a closet. something in you just snaps. "i'm gay, lucas, i'm allowed to be in the closet!" you screech at him and then your heart stops because his face is full of judgment and he's walking out. you chase him down and force him to not tell riley. you're gay, you're gay, you're gay, and lucas friar knows.
(she calls like always that night and you two talk like nothing happened)
three weeks, a day, and a half hour have passed since he found out and he hasn't said a word to you. riley almost cries because she thinks he hates her but then she's in your arms and you're whispering sweet nothings into her hair and it's okay. your heart feels like it's ripping apart and you can't believe you admitted you're gay. the proof is written on your locker and riley looks at you, her eyes pleading to know what happened. lucas fucking friar wrote "fag" on your locker is what fucking happened.
(you're not surprised, he's from texas and it's true)
you kiss her. you fuck things up and you kiss her at a party, wasted. people cat call and wolf whistle and some creep gropes you. you fucked everything up again so you just pass out, wishing none of this had happened. you're falling down and sleep seems so welcoming.
(you wake up to a vibrating phone, seventy-eight texts, thirty-two missed calls, and fourteen voicemails)
it's all from her and you know you've fucked everything up.
("maya, please just answer me.")
she launches herself at you and holds you tight, whispering about how lucas was drunk and he touched her and howled that you're a fag, a fucking fag. prince charming isn't so charming now. you wonder if he was always like this or if something happened because you could've sworn he was worthy of her in seventh grade.
(it's all okay again because you love her and she loves you)
you hold her hand, relieved she doesn't remember your lips against hers. "he can't touch you now, princess," you reassure as you walk by him. his eyes are red and black and you want to kill him but he looks sorry. then he sees your hands intertwined and mouths something.
(you corrupted the perfect little straight girl, didn't you?)
she asks you to go to the graduation dance with her and you slow dance to pop songs. he doesn't apologize when he bumps into you and interrupts your dance. all he does is whisper, "you're going to hell" in remorse. you want to crash your lips against hers to feel okay. instead you rest your head on her shoulder. you love her, you love her, you love her.
(you swear you're soulmates)
the night is gone with the memories of your lips on hers; it will never come again but it's sketched into your brain and the notebook cory gave you.
[you're so fucked]
reviews are love. give maya some.