Authors Note: This is my very first attempt at writing fan fiction. It's some Style (StanXKyle) for a friend who has been hurt; this is my gift to you to try and make you feel better. It's based upon an RP we did where Kyle and Stan have grown apart within the last three years. I hope you like it and reviews are more than welcome.
A Red Rose
I waited, you know.
Every night. Every night I would wait at the bottom of your window, a single rose in my hand, staring up at the drawn curtain of your room. Just waiting for them to open and to see those green eyes I fell in love with, staring back at me. Sometimes I wonder if you've moved away, I haven't seen you at school for ages and it's been three years since we talked. I blame myself and only myself. It was my fault that I let you slip away, right through these unworthy hands of mine, which now clung desperately to the thorny flower.
The rose is stupid, I know.
But it's the only thing which reminds me of you. The red petals reminds me of that curly hair of yours. Silently I stare at the flower and ignore the pain from the thorns, they also remind me of you. No matter what you and I went through, we still stayed strong and held on to each other with everything we had. I miss those days.
Blinking the tears out through my dull and blank eyes, I threw the flower on the ground in anger. Not at you, but at myself. It's always my fault, I screw everything good up in my life. Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth continuing on. It would be so easy just to tie stones to my feet and jump into the pond we used to hang out at…
"Stan?"
It's funny because I can hear your voice, I smile to my pathetic self, almost believing that it's real. It's nice to pretend sometimes…
"Stan, what the hell are you doing here?"
A flinch a little at the harshness in your voice and force myself to look upwards, staring up at your window and blinking through the tears, my vision blurred. I wonder if I hit my head somewhere because all I see is red. But this doesn't look like the colour of blood…
"Stan! Answer me!"
Suddenly it becomes clear, you're there and shouting at me. I open my mouth and try to speak the words, but they become hitched at the back of my throat and release themselves in the form of a whimper. I can't tell if it's from joy or sorrow. I don't hear your next words but I see you slam the window shut and pull the curtains roughly to cover up the night. The lump stings in my throat and I bite my lip hard enough to make it bleed.
I don't want to cry.
The backdoor opens and light floods out into the garden, making me freeze up like a rabbit caught in headlights. Crunching becomes louder and louder and arms are thrown around me, hard enough to push me back a few steps. It takes me a moment to realize that you're here, sobbing quietly into my chest, your red hair in an even more mess than usual; but I still love it. My arms embrace you back, taking in your sent which smells a lot more coffee than usual. I love your heat and I miss it terribly, more so than I ever realize. Tears leak forcefully from my eyes and I can't stop them no matter how hard I try.
Shit, I really didn't want to cry.
I'm such an lovestruck idiot, you know.