Based off of Ellie Goulding's cover of the same name. Constructive criticism is encouraged.
Also on AO3.
It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside
The first time you realized you were in love, you didn't know. The small, fluttering feeling in your bloodpusher tried to make itself known, but you were as stubborn as ever. You pushed and compressed it back, saying to yourself, "It isn't real." Even after all those romcoms you've devoured and all those novels you read over and over, you still didn't believe it. You never considered yourself worthy of such an emotion.
She, on the other hand, was just as pushy and just as stubborn as you are. She wormed her way into your bloodpusher and never bothered to get out. It was then that you considered yourself to be totally and utterly fucked.
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
You never really hid your feelings, even if you wanted to there was nothing you could have done to to hide them. She would smell them from a mile away, and if you were lie, she'd call you out on it and question you and question you until you spilled out every red, black, and pink thought you had of her. So you flirted with her. Alternating between red and black, you showed how much you cared. How much you wanted her. Boy, did that backfire.
I don't have much money but boy if I did
Being as what you are, you never had much. Sure there was food on the table every night and Crabdad made sure there was a little extra for romcoms and such but you weren't exactly well-off. Neither was she but there was a significant gap between your financial stability. There were times where words and gestures weren't enough and you wanted to give her more. Something that signified your feelings for her.
I'd buy a big house where we both could live
You wanted to get her something big but you never knew what. After searching the internet time and time again, the answer never really made itself know. You tried asking her a few times but she never gave you a straight answer. It frustrated you to no end and Cradad wasn't too pleased when he had to replace the husktop you destroyed minutes later. You felt guilty for breaking it but it did little to ease your frustrations.
Little by little, over the course of a sweep or two, you unraveled the complexity of your feelings. You regret not realizing them sooner, because maybe you would be holding her instead of Strider.
Maybe you'd be the one wiping her tears away instead of Strider.
Maybe you'd be the one to make her smile instead of Strider.
Maybe, just maybe, she would have loved you back.
Too late? You say yes. It's too late to take everything back and fix it. It's gone, broken, never to be seen again.
End of story.
Try again next time.
Not.
Surely there was a cost to all this? There was: a great one, but you don't want to think about it now. You fucked up and now you're paying the price.
Karma's sure one hell of a bitch.
