all for the better, he was already UGLY —— and no sum of concealer could hide that prepubescent FUZZ of his. at least he looked COOL sporting a black eye like he had some fuckin’ balls —— his hand clasped TIGHTLY, over tattered flesh applying pressure accordingly to his wound before kicking at ernest from where he lie (defenseless) at his feet. “ I AM NOT A COWARD! „ he wasn’t, was he —— ? I HOPE YOU DIE!! I HOPE YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF, LUCIEN! they fell so burdensome upon his CONSCIOUSNESS, for only a moment lucien stares, lost in ernest’s FIERY gaze and for lack of better words, turns away. “ you’d like that, i knew it, but i didn’t want you to say it.. „ I HOPE YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF, LUCIEN.
“ —— well fine then. „ he didn’t WANT ernest, he needed him —— his STUPID fucking text - messages at four AM, like when he confides in him (much to ernest’s irritation)and shit, who would he hang out with now? fuck —— “ i never fucking liked you anyway, your dad either and i hope that your hair fucking falls out, like that you have to wear a toupee for a remainder of your fucking PATHETIC life! „
ERNEST KNEW WHAT HE WAS SAYING WASN’T TRUE. Lucien is his best FRIEND– his ONLY friend. WAS, more of, as things between them were most completely and obviously OVER, of course, over a STUPID-ASS REASON that they BOTH could of easily predicted it would be. But SHIT, things were too late, now from the looks of it, not that EITHER of them were the best at immediately making up or even realizing they shouldn’t be fighting in the first place. Deep down, they both KNEW that this would be the result, and Ernest especially knew that BOTH of them had too much pride to just STOP, regardless of what it was. But that wouldn’t stop him from openly crying now– something Ernest DETESTED more than anything. That was reserved for when he locked himself in his room at three in the morning and he KNEW Hugo was asleep and wouldn’t hear him, so it was okay and nobody had to know that he was hurting. Now Lucien had to witness this ( yet again ) as Ernest desperately wiped at bleary eyes, gross sobs escaping his throat.
❝— SHUT THE FUCK UP! ❞ and still, he would not apologize.
