A/N: So I decided to rewrite this since my writing skills have improved since I first wrote this. I can't deny that it was pretty cringey reading over this, the mistakes and such being so obvious to my now 'experienced' writer's brain. So think of this as a revised and more wise rewrite, an improvement on the original which was honestly trashy but a sign of how I've gotten better over time.

But enjoy the read,

D.L.D

*Note - I have gone over and edited this as of 23/07/21.


Roses

It all started fifteen years ago. Fifteen long years ago.

It was when I was younger I guess, a lot younger than now for sure. At school I wasn't like most kids: sadly I had a case of the outcast syndrome. Other kids avoided me like a plague, they saw me as creepy or odd because I didn't like what they liked. I think one girl started crying when I said I chopped the hair off all my dolls before melting them one by one in the microwave. But what could I say in response to that? How could I respond?

It was just how I was.

Only a few kids in my class and grade dared to talk to me, many of them being social freaks like myself. The closest of us were around a group of five, all of eating lunch together and often walking home the same way. We invented games we'd play, go out to places and even celebrate birthdays with each other. We were like our own little family, close and secure, and I was thankful for that. I loved that I had found something like that in my life. I always thought I'd be alone.

But then that was proven wrong when I met Duncan, my best and closest friend.

Duncan and I were similar in so many ways it surprised me that we weren't long lost siblings. We both liked the weird and 'scary' things that other kids strayed from, the colour black and alternative rock, punk and such being topics that we found interesting. They were conversation starters for us.

But what I liked most about my friendship with Duncan was that we did almost everything together. We pranked people, called all the numbers in the phone book and just had plain fun. Out of all my friends, I had the most fun with Duncan. I figured that he understood me the most. I felt that Duncan knew me the most.

So naturally my kid brain had to go and develop a crush on him. A stupid crush at that. But even so that stupid crush led to this story, those feelings leading to a moment of my life that I really don't like to dwell on.


It had to be when I was at my most young, hormonal and impressionable, which would be when I was thirteen. Yeah it was when I was thirteen. I remember back then I was a little more peppy than I am now, my childish ways still having a hold over my brain and actions.

For a while the feelings of a crush had been brewing about inside me, like some sort of primordial soup that slowly cooked itself, and day after day I felt as if I might burst if I didn't tell Duncan about it. At first it was small and minuscule, like a tiny marble, but soon it became the size of an enormous elephant. An elephant I can't ignore nor escape anymore, its trunk always playing an annoying tooting noise whenever I even thought about my best friend.

So when Valentines day rolled by, I decided that although it was cliche I should try and at least get my feelings across to my friend. It was my only opportunity to do it without shame, Valentines being the perfect cover up if I was ever rejected. Plus everyone always confessed on that day. We were kids for god's sake!

Break time rolled by at its quickest speed yet that day, the world seeming to know about my anxiety and not helping with it a single bit. In fact it only amplified it, the whispers around the class only feeling like further pressure to just blurt out the words and get the confession over and done with. I would have too if Bridgette, Leshawna and Izzy hadn't dragged me away.

Izzy, Leshawna and Bridgette were all my friends and I'd known them for as long as time itself. Izzy was the crazy redhead of our group, her behaviour being questionable on the best of days but useful for scaring off bullies and mean girls; Leshawna was the ghetto black girl (no offense to be taken) as she held all the sass and diva that out group needed, while also being sweet and kind; Bridgette was just like your average surfer, her passion for the sport forming around three years ago.

They all knew about my inner dilemma, each of them having coaxed it out of me in one way or another. Leshawna had been blackmail, Izzy pestered me until I blurted it out in annoyance and Bridgette just urged it out with encouraging words. But since they all knew, they wanted to help.

They wanted to give advice.

"You know you two will end up with each other," Izzy stated in a casual tone, greedily munching on some cookies she'd brought in a plastic baggie. Her green eyes danced about as she munched, crumbs spreading around her lips. "I know so cause the ancient tribes of the Americas told me so when I went camping last week."

A concerned look was shared between us all, the whole group knowing about Izzy's tendencies to tell tall tales. One prime example was when she told us she went to outer space, only for space to be the rocket ship ride in the mall.

"Girl," Leshawna tutted, shaking her head as she sniffed the scent of the cookies Izzy had. They did not smell like normal chocolate chip. "You've got some case of crazy."

"Agreed," Bridgette and I nod agreement, both aware of what else was added into those cookies. It was no wonder why Izzy was crazy if she always munched on weed laced treats or other brain damaging goods.

"Just be yourself, Gwen," Bridgette placed a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, smiling slightly. "Duncan likes to hang out with you, so he must have some feelings."

"I know it's just - " I sigh, defeated, frowning slightly. "I don't want to ruin our friendship by making anything awkward. Duncan and I have been friends for ages and I feel like losing his friendship is worse than bursting into a million pieces from not saying anything."

A hum of agreement goes around our little circle, everyone seeming to know where I was coming from. Regardless of that though, my friends still seemed pretty encouraging of the fact that I should confess.

"Well, Gwen," Leshawna broke the silence, her tone filled with authority and guidance. "You won't know until you try."

I nod and smile in response, internally sighing with relief as well as anguish when the bell rang. That meant more time before lunch to think, but that also meant the weigh of the crush would still be on my shoulders.

Damn it.


Lunch comes by and I rush away to my locker before anyone else can stop me for a weird and awkward conversation. It ultimately fails as I receive a card from Cody, someone whom I see as an annoying little brother, and another from Trent.

To be honest I don't really mind Trent. He's a pretty sweet guy, knows about some pretty interesting stuff and can be good company. I've actually held some decent conversations with him, the both of us being able to talk for hours without falling asleep or growing bored. I'd say that if I hadn't developed a crush on Duncan, then I would've probably liked Trent. He was an ok guy after all and not many of them existed.

I arrive at and open my locker to have two roses tumble to my feet. One was painted a pretty shade of teal, just the shade I wanted to dye my hair to, and the other was jet black like my current hair colour. Whoever put them there knew me very well, or had overheard my private conversations with my friends, as not many people would know about my wish to dye my hair a certain colour. In fact no-one knew that I liked that particular shade of teal so much.

I pick up the roses, gently minding the thorns that could easily prick my fingers and draw blood. The roses look pretty, even in the crappy lighting of the school's hallway, and I can't help but feel a slight flutter in my chest as I think that someone went through all that trouble for me. That someone actually went a bought me some pretty roses.

However that moment is broken when I think about who could have placed that in my locker, the list being very small as few people were available like that. The only two that could really come to mind were DJ and Duncan, and that was out of my friendship group as I'd only told them about my hair dye wish. But then again it could be anyone in the school or year, admirers being everywhere in this school.

Still mesmerized by the roses, but also pondering on who could have given them, I close my locker and head outside. Everyone else was more or less out there, the claps of the latest Valentines' confession confirming my suspicions of everyone wanting to see the juicy Valentines' drama.

However I don't even bat an eye at that, instead focusing on finding my friends. It's as I do, that I spot the whole group hanging about at the back of the playground. Bridgette and her boyfriend, Geoff, were making out, the two of them being extremely forward; everyone else was just chilling or hanging about. However I noticed that Duncan was missing, his distinctive bright green mohawk gone from the group.

"DJ?" I tap the boy's shoulder.

"Yeah, Gwen," DJ turned around, blinking slightly.

DJ was tall and stocky, owning a bulky frame that suggested strength - and not fake strength, I mean real muscle man strength. He was a nice person in general, not really going out of his way to bully or demean people. In fact he was a friendly giant, using his strength and kindness to help animals, which I found pretty likable.

"Did you give me two roses?" I ask the question innocently, raising a brow as I show him the two roses.

"Nope," DJ frowned slightly studying the roses with a critical eye. He seemed to recognise them, a spark of something flashing in his eyes as he continued. "I gave Katie a Valentines gift. It was a koala plushy since that was out first date. But I think I might know who..."

He suddenly trailed off, falling into a forced silence. He glanced from the roses to me and then back, biting into his lower lip. He then awkwardly shifted, refusing to even look at the roses as if they'd kill him from guilt or something.

"Well that's a relief!" I give a small smile, trying not to show how I was irked by DJ's sudden silence. Instead I just show my relief as I didn't want to harshly reject DJ like that. He was a good friend after all. "That's one less person on my list. But who you - "

"It's nothing!" DJ quickly squeaked out before more or less sprinting away.

"Ok bye..." The words leave slow and quiet, my hand moving in a halfhearted wave as I release a sigh.

I should've known that DJ wouldn't tell me about that so easily. He was so scared of things and hated to be under the pressure or target of anyone or thing. He preferred to be in the shadows, only stepping into the spotlight when cooking.

So I decide to follow my only other lead, the one which I hoped was the answer.

There was a little hole in the fence that blocked off the school from the dense underbrush that grew nearby. Everyone who was anyone knew about the loophole and so a lot of people went there when they wanted privacy, to do something naughty or simply bunk off from the school and its boring schedule. Therefore I knew Duncan would be there, the hole in the fence being one of his favourite hideaways within the school.

It was easy to get there. It was easy to push myself through the hole and ignore the small scrapes of the wire. I held the roses in my hand, somehow having not pricked myself on them at all. They were precious, important. I needed them if I was going to confess, answer to the rose question or not. However I should've known that thinking like that was stupid. That it was dumb to even think that Duncan would share my weird non-platonic feelings.

But I didn't.

I believed that he didn't like anyone else. I believed that no-one else liked him.

Boy was I wrong.

I turn the corner towards the little clearing where Duncan usually was, feeling as if I could scream as if I were on fire from the sight that greeted me. In fact I'm sure I did internally, something weird snapping and popping inside of me at what was before me.

I find myself frozen in my spot, as if I'd grown roots or that ice had engulfed my legs and feet. My heart was racing, my eyes were wide, but most importantly my brain was in disbelief. Complete disbelief. But that didn't compare to the pain my heart was feeling, the slow, piercing pain like a knife gradually being twisted to impale it cleanly through. It hurt and burned, exploded and collapsed upon itself like a self-destructive flame and even the coolness of my tears couldn't calm it.

The tears did nothing but dribble down my skin.

Duncan and Courtney were there. Kissing. Yes kissing. I thought they hated each other. I thought they couldn't stand each other and would kill themselves before even confessing about any type of love. But here they were, kissing in the little space of the clearing. That could only mean one thing.

I just look on in silence, broken and empty silence, as I feel my heart burst into a million pieces. It would take forever to mend. Forever to fix or even think about trying to piece together like a jigsaw. But Duncan didn't know that.

He didn't even know it, but my heart was bust.

Broken.

I believe I dropped the roses at the scene, my hands preoccupied with scrubbing away the relentless tears that fell as I ran away. I spent the rest of break in the girls' bathroom before emerging to spend the rest of class in complete and utter silence. I didn't say a thing, feel a thing. I just wanted to sleep for eternity and I think I did in the final lesson, not at all caring when people began to whisper or when my friends shared concerned looks.

I ignored Courtney's glances and glares, didn't even think about Duncan's oddly guilty glances, and just more or less moped about in a depressive state.

But even with what happened, I always theorized that Duncan left me the roses. It seemed like something he'd do, something unique, sentimental but not corny and yet still just as sweet. But at the same time, I didn't know for sure. I wouldn't know for sure as I'd have to ask and then it'd reveal everything I'd seen.

So I never found out the truth.

Over the years I got over what happened, I grew to not care, but I never forgot Duncan. He was my best friend and just letting him go was tough. I was used to his little jokes, the way he'd always be loud and rude. Duncan was fundamentally someone I'd always wanted to keep in my life, as a friend or otherwise, but after that incident I just couldn't keep him there anymore. It was a reminder that was sticky and dark like tar. Deathly.

So I started dating Trent through high school, tried to get rid of the pain but ended up hurting us both. I made Trent feel like he was replacement and made myself feel like a freak for not knowing how to love. So we left on mutual terms. During that time Duncan got with Courtney and I strayed away from it as I didn't want to stir up trouble. But after they broke up, I began to talk to him and rekindled our old friendship.

But only that.

Then came college and adult life and I rarely saw him anymore. I didn't actually. Not until that fateful art show at least.


So that gets us to where I am today. After fifteen odd years, I'd say I've done pretty well for myself. I'm a famous artist who enjoys the many pleasures of being wealthy and rich whilst living out her days in her mini-mansion of a home. Sometimes I feel bad because of what happened, sometimes I dwell on the 'what ifs' and 'If I had justs', but most of the time I was content. Most of the time I didn't dwell on my emotions as my art was what they bled into.

Maybe that's why so many people like my pieces. Perhaps they can sense the pain...

"Alexa," My voice rings about my room as I towel dry my hair. "Play my mix."

'My mix' or 'my antidepressants' as I've dubbed them, is a playlist of songs that I've collected over the years. Each song was one of the rare things in this world that could lift me out of a mopey mood, their affect being similar to that of the well known 'antidepressants' that doctors prescribe. As a result you could always hear the songs blasting through whatever speaker or device was closest to me, the mix always managing to make a smile form.

And I definitely needed that today.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I head towards my wardrobe to find a suitable outfit for the day. I was doing an Art presentation this morning for a gallery, my latest piece being a sort of stir within the press. All sorts of headlines and newspapers were buzzing about with the latest information on my latest masterpiece. So that meant I had to put on a good impression for my masses and masses of fans (even if I wasn't the most social of people).

It takes a bit of deliberation, but I soon pull out my clothing choice of the day. I grab some black ripped jeans, pairing it with a white t-shirt and baggy dusty red jumper. I pulled on some red trainers to match with the jumper and strung a few simple necklaces around my neck. Complete with a now plain black messy bun, natural smokey eye makeup and some teal lipstick and I knew that I was ready. Teal was a colour that gave me hope and confidence after all.

It wasn't long before I was in my car and on my way to the gallery. The drive was pretty much very calm, the coffee I was anxiously sipping away at doing quite a lot to soothe my jittery nerves and stomach.

However it ultimately failed when I pulled up to the gallery, the faces of crowds and flashing of cameras making me feel like I'd just been thrown into the middle of a humid and foggy room. I can remember trying to get through the groups without drawing too much attention, my eyes wandering over each face until I spotted one that looked very familiar. They seemed to notice me too, a pair of teal eyes connecting with my own before the other faces swallowed them up once more.

"I couldn't be..." I breathe the words as I continue towards the door, the weird tugging feeling in my stomach starting up once more. "No way it was..."

I sneak a glance back in the person's direction, however they have disappeared. Vanished. It was like they were never there or if they were the crowd had swallowed them up alive. But either way that meant it couldn't be who I thought it was. They would've pushed through the crowds to greet me.

So I went into the gallery, ignoring the thoughts buzzing about inside my skull, my head already shaking as my brain began to scold me for thinking such things. I was meant to be unveiling my new piece today - not dwell on the past. Sure, the painting was inspired by what happened in the past, but that didn't mean I had to show that it affected me. It could be like with Frida Kalo and her self-portraits or Edvard Munch and The Scream.

The piece in question was something I'd decided to make when I was feeling particularly broody. It had to have been while I was at that time of month, my emotions always being off-centre during those times and therefore super influential in my art. That was arguably when I did the best art actually. Anyway, emotions were high and I was so damn tired of bottling it up that I decided to let it all out onto the canvas.

It had started as me just messing about with teal and black paint, but soon it had morphed into something else entirely. It had turned into a story of pain and passion, my art speaking on the subject where my words never could.

Little teal and black roses decorated the canvas in a sort of collage pattern, mole-like splatters of teal, black and white paint spread about at random. I had added a few hidden hearts, some full and many of them broken. Only my eyes knew where the signature cross bones of my best friend's favourite t-shirt while we were kids was, the little detail added as a final goodbye to the past I guess.

However I knew deep down that I couldn't say goodbye...

"Are you ready to open up?" My manager walks in, raising a brow as they look up from their clipboard. "You've been staring at the piece for a while, Gwen."

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," I give the best smile I can muster, stuffing my hands into my empty pockets as I rocked on my heels. "I'm just saying my final goodbyes."

My manager gave a nod, taking my words as the signal to let everyone begin to flood in for the main event.

As soon as the door opens a whole tsunami of people crash into the gallery, babbling and chattering as they hurriedly rushed to their seats. Cameras flashed once again, their lights blinding me while people fought over seats causing security to try to sort it out. It took about thirty minutes for everything to settle into a perfect calm, the previous storm seeming to pass as suddenly as it arrived. It wasn't long before everyone had a seat and was ready to hear my presentation, eager for the unveiling.

I scan the crowd just like I always do before addressing them, my heart falling to a jilted stop as I met those familiar pair of eyes once more. I just can't shake the feeling that he's Duncan. It was something about the way he looked, the way he carried some sort of purpose in those uniquely teal irises of his, and I couldn't deny that it made me think of my best friend. It made me think of how he used to look at me when I'd go to him for help, finding support and not pity.

Duncan never did pity me...

Once the clock struck one, I began my presentation. I had rehearsed it for hours on end, talking to my reflection in a mirror while also nibbling on my painted bottom lip. I had always twisted my hands nervously, just as I was now, and I always failed to meet the eyes of the audience. Always.

"Well I'm sure you all know who I am," I chuckled sheepishly as I walked over towards the covered piece, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I try to maintain a smile. "So instead of exchanging pleasantries I thought we should just unveil the thing."

The tarp was pulled from the painting, revealing the bold and vibrant colours of the patterned piece. The room was filled with sounds of awe, wonder and amazement, the small click of camera shutters alerting me to this all being very real. So I naturally couldn't help but look over to the teal-eyed stranger, frowning as I noticed the look of guilt that formed on their face. A look that made my memory jog back to the event of all those years ago, the flash of Duncan's face meeting mine at the end of the day.

"It's called Roses," I look away from the stranger, my throat feeling terribly tight despite the strength and confidence that laced my voice. I instead look directly at the cameras, facing them head on with a firmly set grimace. "And it's inspired by a Valentines day that went horribly wrong for me."

A moment of silence was given and soon the reporter vultures began to circle in. They each squawked and pecked away, the flashing of their cameras and pushing of their mics reminding me of the scavenger birds who picked away at rotting carcasses. However even if I didn't like reporters much, I had to humor them and allow them to ask questions. Reporters are what made me famous in the first place after all.

"So, Gwen, why did you make the piece?" A reporter inquired straight after I had nodded towards them.

The question makes me freeze slightly, a hand instinctively tugging at my jumper sleeve. My bottom lip is caught between my teeth, the flesh most likely raw from how much I've been chewing away at it today.

"To unleash those pent up emotions I guess," I replied with a shrug, trying to pass it off as a sheepish gesture rather than a way to mask the real emotions swirling about inside me. "They've been kept locked up for way too long."

A nod was given from the reporter and I then moved on to another, this time expecting a highly invasive question like last time. As always the journalists did not disappoint.

"Do you remember the name of who upset you, Gwen?" The journalist inquired, their notepad already opened and pen at the ready to jot down notes.

Another bite was given to my lip, this time a bit harder along with the tug at my sleeve. These reporters sure do love being invasive, especially when they believe they have a major scoop or cause of drama in the world of the rich and successful. It was honestly an attribute that was both extremely annoying and useful when seen from two different angles.

"I do," I give a firm nod, my fake smile still plastered across my lips. "We've been best friends for years, even before the incident, so I'd appreciate if you'd drop it."

The questions continued on and on, each round seeming to feel like an interrogation rather than a simple Q&A. In fact I was beginning to sweat from how much pressure the questions put me under, my mind unbelieving that people would want to ask such invasive questions. It was none of their goddamn business after all. But then again I wasn't obligated to answer either...

"What is their name?"

Someone finally asked it. They went and asked the question that I had been dreading to hear since starting this damn thing. But I couldn't not answer it. Not when my manager was glaring at me from backstage and the stare of the asker seemed to be so curious and innocent. It would be wrong to deprive them of the truth, plus what harm could I do by revealing the person's first name? A bunch of people have that name.

"It's-It's, Duncan..." The words leave in a shaky exhale, my eyes already glassing over from tears. I wipe them away, the fabric of my jumper reddening my pasty skin. "But I'd rather not say anything else. They were one of my closest and best friends, they don't deserve any hate for what happened..." I couldn't hold it back anymore. I can hear the sniffles and wavering in my voice, can feel the hot tears tracing my cheeks. "We're still pretty good friends actually."

It's as I'm about to snap that I run off offstage, furiously palming away the tears as I heard the host say I'd be back in a moment.

How could I have been so stupid?! I'd literally made my life a hundred times worse and just gave away the secret I'd kept under lock and key for over a decade! I've more or less told the whole world that I'm friends with someone who had ruined my Valentines' day. I've revealed that I'm not at all over a stupid schoolgirl crush that had no chance of becoming real from the beginning. Not just that, but I did it in front of a whole room of press.

What was I thinking?!

Now it'll be all over the papers: Famous Artist Gwen Maves' new masterpiece based on crush gone wrong! God I can hear my mom's voice now, her prattle about worrying for me most likely lasting well into the night if she hears about this. Let's not even mention what will happen when my brother finds out...

I release a sobbing whimper as I sit down on a bench, staring at the cold ground through the gap of my legs. My hands are tangled in my hair and my eyes are wide open, still warm tears still dropping down my winter skin as I try to stifle the sobbing sounds. However it's hard to do that when I feel so terrible, my mind ringing with questions that I have gone over a million times as a hormonal teenager.

How did I get here?

I was an famous artist, living a comfortable life and one of the most famous bachelorettes out there. I thought I was over this. I thought I had recovered over the many years and since I have everything I've ever wanted or needed I figured I was fine. I was completely healed.

So why am I like this now?

Why am I such a wreck at just the mention of his name?

It was just a fucking name!

But then to me...was it ever just a name?

The feel of a presence resting beside mine breaks my chain of thought. They're sitting beside me on the bench, the warmth of their body bleeding into mine, but also seem to be wary of giving me personal space. I can spot the intricate designs of two tattoos on their tanned lower arms, the black ink making me think back to a time where I rode a motorbike with my best friend, the scent of his body wash and leather jacket swallowing my senses as I clung onto him for dear life.

Oh those were the times...

"Gwen, we need to talk."

I recognised that voice. Yes I know it, those tones and the way it seems so certain but is really just as guarded as I am. The way it was soft like crushed velvet yet held a timbre as solid as the toughest of stones. I had fallen asleep to that voice so many times, our late night phone calls often ending with him waking me up because I'd begun to snore or was silent for too long. It had to be - no Gwen you know it couldn't be. He wouldn't be here. We fell out of contact as adult life grew harder, time seeming to forget about how much fun we had together.

And yet...

My eyes trail up to follow the tattooed arms to meet a face I'd known for so long that I didn't even need to give it a double take. I knew from the glint of his teal blue eyes, the dip of his nose and the curve of his lips. I knew from the set of his jaw and the jet black hair that fell into his face, his signature mohawk gone but not being needed for me to identify him. That was because I knew him. I knew him as well as a book I've read over a million times, as well as my own hand.

I knew him as well as the air I breathe.

"Duncan?" I raise a brow skeptically, my eyes widening as the pieces click together. Sadly they click together in a very primitive way, my emotions twisting into hostility and shame. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

A smile creeps onto Duncan's face from the shock in my tone, causing my surprise to fall short in awe of the expression. It was one that could always cheer me up, Duncan's smile being the sort that worked miracles, much like my special playlist.

"I heard about your presentation and thought, 'hey I know her why not see how she's doing?!'" Duncan replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He still had a smile in place however I could tell it was just there to put me at ease. Perhaps he was smiling a little because he was glad to see me. Maybe he actually did enjoy my company even after what happened. But I don't think so.

Not when my brain screams otherwise.

"Well you know now," It leaves in an exasperated sigh, an arm coming to flop at my side. Now that I was set back on the subject of way back when, my brain wanted to get it out. It wanted to vent out all the deep shit I had buried for so long, the presence of Duncan only making it worse. "You were my crush back then and I happened to see the kiss. I - I thought I was over it, but apparently I'm not. Not after fifteen fricking years! But I don't expect you to like me back. I've got what I want and need, but I just don't feel complete. Maybe I need to find myself someone or - "

I was cut off by Duncan pressing his lips against mine, an old trick of his to get girls to shut up when they rambled on too much. It felt odd to kiss Duncan, especially like this. I knew I should be enjoying this, I should be jubilant in fact, but I couldn't feel like that. Not with a kiss like this.

"What the fuck!" I yelp as I break away. My cheeks are burning and if I had one bet on why I'd say it was because they were red with blush. I still glare at Duncan anyway though, knowing his trick all too well. "Was that just to shut me up?"

"Not entirely," He let out his own sigh, a look of true sheepishness crossing his features as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Look I'm sorry, Gwen."

The words catch me off guard, being entirely unexpected from my point of view. Duncan was innocent in this after all, he didn't know what his actions would do. No-one really knew to expect me and that's why this was my fault. It was all my fault. That's probably why I've never truly gotten over it all.

"You're sorry for what?" I raise a brow, truly confused as to why Duncan would apologise to me.

"For what happened fifteen years ago," Duncan glanced away from me, frowning slightly as he seemed to recall that day. His teal eyes are shallow, thought-filled, and I'm certain that it's because his face is set into such a firm expression. An expression that I'd rarely seen him wear before. "You wouldn't have been involved if I didn't - I didn't kiss Courtney because I was in love with her."

"Wait what!" I screech, my eyes certainly widened as much as they could possibly be. My jaw was slack, my mind completely in disbelief. "There's no way that's true. It looked like a full lip lock!"

Those words seemed to tick him off even more, a dangerous look passing over his clouded features for a split second. A look that I had learned to link with his anger or annoyance, Courtney having flared it up on many occasions during high school. It was also the look Duncan had when he was going to do something stupid, something reckless, his more dauntless qualities always ending with him ending up behind bars or waist deep in some sort of shit storm.

"Yeah," Duncan huffed, his arms folding across his chest. His words leave bitter, cold, like a bad taste or afterthought. "That's because she kissed me when she saw you coming."

It was then everything became clear. I had the final piece to click everything into place, the grand jigsaw of the Valentines gone wrong finally making sense. The guilty looks, the gradual but definitely existent split in our close friendship and even why Duncan had distanced himself off began to make sense to me now. If he wasn't responsible for what happened but still cared about me, then his actions would make sense. It would make sense for him to feel guilty.

It would be logical for him to come clean.

But why wait until now?

"You didn't like her?" I blink, tilting my head slightly as I study him critically. My brain is still trying to wrap around it, analyzing every little piece of dialogue that leaves his lips. "You're kidding, right? Why wait until now to tell me?"

"I'm not kidding!" Duncan protested, a look of utter severity sitting on his features. He seemed to be getting as annoyed with this as I was, his own voice raising along with mine. The dangerous look returned once again. "Who do you think gave you the roses?! Thought about you everyday? I did Gwen. I didn't care about Courtney. But when I saw you move past it, I thought it'd be better to forget it ever happened. I thought you wanted to forget about it all..."

His features had softened only to show a blazing anger and frustration eating away at him. It made my heart soften a little, feel sympathy for him, as Duncan hadn't intended for this to happen. He didn't intend to break my heart into a billion pieces, but even so that doesn't mean I would just let him waltz back into my life. Fessing up doesn't immediately clear you of all your charges.

"Then why did you date her through high school?" I raise a brow at Duncan, knowing fully well that my words were petty. Insecure and petty as hell.

"To try and block it out!" Oh yeah he was growing annoyed. I can see it from the terseness of his jaw and the furrow of his jet black brows. I give it a few more minutes before he blows and just storms out to clear his head, just like back when we were kids. "When you started dating Trent I thought you didn't like me and then we started talking less and I thought you wanted to forget me. I thought...that you didn't want anything to do with me Gwen."

Duncan was near tears now, I can hear it in the remorse and melancholy in his voice. I could see it in the glistening of his pure teal eyes, the perfect irises making me think of a puppy that had been through so much neglect that it didn't deserve. In fact all I wanted to do was wipe away all the pain Duncan felt in his life, the urge to cup his face in my hands, hold him tight and say that everything will be ok being as strong as ever.

But as always the brain had to counter the heart, my two organs being the biggest of rivals.

"Do you really mean that?" I whisper, staring into his eyes.

"Really," He looked right back.

Then it was all forgiven. All the shitty events of the past seemed to evaporate immediately from that one simple exchange, those few words that could mean so little and yet meant the whole world to me. They meant more than anyone could ever know, the words seeming like a gentle admission to all of the theories I'd had over the years. A gentle admission that confirmed all the good things about my theories, like the one about the roses.

"Well, I guess I'm sorry too then," I wrap my arms around his frame, breathing in his scent that I had grown to miss over the years. He instantly returned my hold, his chin resting atop my head as he held me close and tight. I had to admit that I liked that feeling, that feeling of being warm and enveloped. That feeling of being close enough to feel his body warmth and breathe in his scent after being starved of it for so long.

"I didn't know that I affected you like that," I continue in a small voice, burying my face within the cavern of his chest. "But I thought you didn't want me in your life. After what happened with Courtney, I thought I was just...no-one. Just a person to pull pranks and have fun with."

"Gwen," Duncan tilted my head up, forcing my gaze to meet his. "I did all those things because it was the only time I got to spend with you after that Valentines day."

Those words make a smile break out onto my lips, sending a signal of warmth through me that I hadn't felt in a very long while.

"I'm glad to have you back, Duncan."

"Me too Sunshine, me too."


Epilogue

I'd never really been nervous about first dates. Who am I kidding, I've never really been on any first dates. In all my life I've dated around three men, many of the ones who did try to make advances only returning with empty hands. But even then I'd never really felt something the way I do with Duncan. I don't think I ever cared about what they thought of me as much as I value Duncan's opinion of me. So it's not surprising that I'm on edge tonight, shivering within the warm veil of my jacket as I chewed away at my bottom lip.

I should've thought this over. I should've just said a quiet and safe no in response to the question. But instead of doing what I should have done, I have followed the senseless beating of my heart. I have done something that I haven't really dared to do in years.

"You can't be nervous," I can hear the teasing tone in his voice, alerting me to the grin that was likely to be on his face. "The great Gwen scared of a date."

"Shut up," I nudge him but end up laughing, a light blush scattering over my cheeks. "It's just - it's been a while..."

His teasing seems to soften at those words, some sort of sincerity entering his voice as he looks at me.

"Then it's a good thing we're doing this together right?"

All I can do is nod and smile in response, some sort of soothing effect taking over.

Then before I can think of anything else, his hand intertwined with mine as we step into the future, leaving behind the past and hoping for the best.


A/N: So here's the rewrite! What do you think? Don't be shy, pop it in a review!

D.L.D