Lars
he / him / his
thirty-three
july 26
alto mare, johto
don’t know, don’t care
ranger & courier
ex-head ranger
irony [past]
POSTED ON Nov 12, 2019 7:23:48 GMT
[attr="class","lars"]  pokemon   tag words 817 notes that got a little too long. wHOOPS | “Why are you getting so defensive, then?” is all he begins, unfazed at her anger. “Maybe he did tell you something that hit a nerve or two. Or three,” he continues, getting up and off the counter and eyeing her with absolutely no sense of remorse.
“Oh, really? You think it’s none of my business? Then tell me, why were you crying your heart out over him if… oh, I don’t know, he was the one who broke up with you?” he continues. Well, he’s definitely heard the rumors here and there. About how… about how there was even a proposal.
The only thing that wasn’t clear was who proposed to whom, so here he was.
“Oh wait, it wasn’t him who left. It was you, right? Humor me, then, if the rumors I heard were right—you proposed to him? Or was it the other way around, he proposed, you turned him down and you broke it off? And what happened? Did he get cold feet? Or was he involved with someone else? Maybe you were involved with someone else and were too chicken to tell him—” he continues, postulating out loud.
Rumors were really hard to prove unless one went straight to the source.
“Oh, that’s right, I also know how you two were childhood friends, so what kind of a chance do I even stand against that? If you hadn’t snapped at me like that, well, I would consider the bridge between us burned right here, right now. Honestly, I think it was for the best you’re not with him—or with anyone, for that matter,” he adds with a bit of a huff.
Well, there went the original plan of comforting her. Out the window, down the drain.
“I wouldn’t know if you have any more previous boyfriends or skeletons in that closet of yours, Stormy, I just wanted you to know that there was someone who wanted to take care of you no matter what happened. No matter what hell came crashing through the region. Instead, you chose a childhood crush, but did he even love you as much as I do? Was he there when you were kidnapped? Who saved you from that pyromaniac in Rocket? Did he? No! It was me! I baited him out! Was he around when we went around on all those missions together? No, of course not!”
…wait, what.
Lars, what the fuck, no. Back the hell up!
Those words had come out like a mic drop, and he could feel his ears burning a bright shade of red. But he was too riled up to care at that moment.
“You’re acting like a child, you know… hanging onto someone who’s not here in Hoenn anymore, we’re down a ‘Champion’, and yet you’re still clinging onto the hope that you’re going to get back together! Are you really that hung up over him? Judging from all the empty wine bottles, I’d say you were. Still are.”
He lets out another snort after that.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you can charm all these men to come after you. But whatever it is you’re doing, maybe they don’t meet your impossibly-high standards. Who knows if the other guys who came before Mr. Stone were just as in love with you as I am, but got turned off at how you present yourself when you’re backed into a corner and the words really hurt you because they’re the truth. I suggest you lower those standards, whatever they might be, and save yourself the trouble.”
At this he turns towards the door.
“Because honestly, I don’t know what kind of snake-charming you’re doing, maybe you were really meant to be left alone, to never experience what love really is like from someone who would come sweeping in to your aid and save you. Protect you. Defend you. I was going to tell you so much more about my feelings for you, but well, with the way you just snapped at me like that, consider those feelings dead. It’s gone.”
Even if what he last said also hurt him, he knew it was time to back off. Time to back off and melt away from the scene. Because there really was no chance for him since the beginning.
“Oh and that food was really meant for you, take it. I have no use for it,” he adds as he makes his way back through the living room and stops at the door to lace up his boots once more. Once he’s done, he straightens up.
“Good luck with whatever man you manage to charm and dump next,” he says shortly, before stepping out of the door and slamming it. A few moments later, the revving noise of a motorcycle speeding away is heard.
And just like that, he’s gone. Walked out of her life. For good, maybe?
Who knows.
|
[newclass=".lars"] [/newclass]
|
|
