"it's a lonely thing -- protecting a breakable heart." - atticus

recap of ch. eleven: xandria breaks up with tyler through text, while ynna says that their split was the most platonic of all time.

c h . t w e l v e

l i a

NOT ALL PEOPLE ARE BLESSED with the unique capability of a platonic break up. I'm more than grateful for what I have with Tyler, because I still love him.

But I don't have a neat history with love, if you're expecting a fine pile of happy broken - up - with boys. I'm a hidden storm shadowed by the sun, coming in the night, seeking refuge through the darkness because the light shows me who I really am.

Everyone has secrets.

My ex boyfriend was sure to make me feel that.

He was, and still is, the worst.

Up to this day, a twisting, tempting fraction in my bones still screams i miss you, in spite of his relentless idea of love.

Or maybe, there wasn't any love at all.

I thought we were fine, going steady for a year or so. . .till he got tired of me. He used dark humor to piss me off, claiming that they were 'just jokes'. He was irritated by the mere fact that I 'cared too much'.

I want to see you hurt, on the ground, crying and helpless. I will laugh until you have no oxygen and you will beg for your life.

The messages stamp a clear picture in my head -- ones I swore never to re-live, ones that should be buried beneath the core of the Earth where no one would find it. Yet here I am, recalling every twist and turn of my fragile heart.

Am I always going to be too serious?

Is it wrong to care about the people you love?

No.

There's nothing wrong with that; my mature, seventeen year old self is positive. But a prickle of doubt tantalizes me with anxiety, because what I felt was real. The most legitimate of all my relationships.

I was a year older than him, and now, seeing him walk past the school always triggers a hidden emotion in me -- one that burns when he appears, and falls to fading ashes when he is gone. My juvenile twelve year old heart was in a deeply cut wound, as well as Tyler's. We met, and patched each other until we were good as new.

Or so we thought.

Because that's the issue with relationships. You get an array of kisses and chocolates, but bundled with that is a hidden wreckage of obliteration. One wrong move, and you could end in a fatal heartbreak.

Tyler shifts next to me as he rumages through the contents of his bag. While writing a note, his knuckles softly brush over my skin, making him flinch at our skin contact after the platonic 'breakup'.

"Aha! Found it!"

I peep up from my textbook and see him holding a black velvety stuffued toy with a tail, ears, and big blue eyes.

"A cat!" I smile, beaming at the stuffed animal.

A knapping thought tugs my inside, but I pull away and focus on any other emotion aside from the j word.

What if we never broke up? Would he have given that to me. . . ?

I bite my lip and supress a smile, clawing my nails into the blank page of my notebook.

"Tyler, that is so cute! Mystery girl is gonna love that!"

"I know. I'm going to give it to Lia as soon as she passes by."

His hand automatically covers his mouth in accident, cheeks brimming red. I smirk in amusement.

"Lia? Is this the mystery girl you were talking about?"

He nods quietly while scanning the room to see if anyone noticed or heard.

"Well, good luck then. I hope you become great friends,"

I'll admit there's a twinge of jealousy, but it is easily overpowered by my friendliness. I can control my emotions simply because Tyler deserves all the happiness in the world. It's nice to see good things happening to better people.

Outside the glass windows, a petite brunette strolls in front of the library. This is Tyler's cue to stand up. The screech of his chair makes the librarian peek at our table, but Tyler ignores her icy gaze and approaches Lia in long, paceful strides.

Ynna then enters the library while watching Lia and Tyler. She doesn't even notice a cup of iced tea still secured firmly in her hands.

"No drinking inside the library, Ms. Heart!" the librarian makes sure to scare her, and she scampers out to throw the drink in guilt. When the librarian isn't looking anymore, she dashes inside and sits in front of me.

"Did you see him?" she asks, panting nervously while eyeing the librarian.

"Who?" I bury my fingers under the fuzzy material of my hoodie, pretending not to notice.

"What do you mean who? Of course you know who I'm talking about,"

I narrow my lips in a thin line and ignore the question.

"Tyler Brann is having puppy eyes over that girl! I didn't expect my ship to sink so fast!" Ynna wipes a fake tear while shifting her eyes from the librarian to focus on Tyler.

"Don't be so dramatic. We're still friends," I offer.

"Friends? Dude, the friendzone stings. Tyler is better than Julian, at least in my opinion." she responds, crossing her arms.

"Girl, this ain't a competition. Julian is annoying, and he's just a friend," I reply, forcing myself to believe the nonsensical lie.

"You spend time with him everyday,"

"So?"

"I highly doubt you'll be anything but friends by the end of the year,"

"Um, to remind you, I'm doing a pretty great job at avoiding relationships," I reply knowingly.

Ynna narrows her eyes and props her legs up a vacant chair, never leaving my gaze. Her sharp eyes are enough to convey what words cannot. She thinks I won't succeed -- fall into the clutches of a boy who is infatuated with the color violet.

"Don't worry about it, nothing will happen,"

The library door creaks open again, screeching an eerily strained squeak through the room.

Tyler. His brown hair is disheveled and sticking out, while he stomps his feet in silent, careul steps.

His hand still contains the black cat plush.

He sits next to me as Ynna leaves the table to give us privacy, but stares at us from a far off table in the corner. Tyler's olive green eyes stay forward in a steady line. Once full of life and cheeriness, but now is encompassed with an aching throb of hurt.

I wait for the flood of sorrow, theorizing why his heart would be even more damaged than it already is. Maybe she has another boyfriend. Or she doesn't like Tyler. Or perhaps she hates cats.

I rub my thumb over his wrist in gentle strokes, the contact bad and damaging for the both of us, but we give in to the risk and stay close against each other anyway.

"She's bi."

a u t h o r ' s n o t e

ASDFGHJKL IT'S ALMOST 3AM AND MY BRAIN IS TIRED OF WRITING BUT I KEEP DOING IT NYAHAHA.

I need help. I think I'm going crazy.

I feel so bad for Tyler in this chapter, he's like the sweetest character here so I'll be sure to give him a good ending in this story (irl peeps who know who Tyler is, ples don't take his character too seriously)

I'm literally just rambling useless thoughts rn, but can I talk about my three a.m state?

Instead of writing something like 'i know how you feel too' i end up writing 'i now how you feel to'.

Or three becomes tree. Lies becomes lice.

I should stop now what am I saying.

Please don't hate meee.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

i will never get tired of la vie en rose. (what stella what are you saying this is so random)

- s t e l l a r d r e a m s