Author's Note: Oneshot. Angst/Sadness/Love. First person—Nick's POV. Slash. Nick/Greg.
Acknowledgements: Thanks goes out to Amanda for editing, as usual.
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters mentioned.
Summary: Nick thinks about Greg . . . and how he'll never know about Nick's true feelings. Does he think he'll find the courage to admit to his feelings?
"Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go."
It was simple, really. I loved you. I'd loved you since the day I met you. I could say I didn't, I could tell myself I didn't—but the truth was I did. There was something about you . . . that sparkle in your eyes, that smile that was always on your face, your laugh that I couldn't stop hearing . . . No matter what I would think or say, I loved you, no I adored you.
Every time I closed my eyes I would see your perfect face. Your perfect dark, mysterious eyes, your perfect kissable lips, your perfect hair that spilled down onto your forehead. Every time I closed my eyes I could hear your voice saying my name. In a deep murmur, you would lovingly whisper my name into my ear. I could almost feel your warm breath tickling my ear, too. Almost smell your minty breath.
Then I would open my eyes, hoping so hard it almost hurt that you were there, lying beside me in my bed.
Every time I opened my eyes you were never there.
Why was that?
Why was it that I had loved you for eight years, and you didn't even know? Why was it that I was afraid to tell you my true feelings? Why was it that I was a coward when it came to love?
I could feel the tears stinging my eyes again. That was my ritual. I would think of you, then almost feel you there beside me, but when I looked you weren't there. I tried to fight back the tears, but I always lost . . . then I drifted off to sleep. Of course I dreamed of you. Nothing else strayed across my slumber except you. This . . . this was love.
Did you feel the same way I did?
Did you feel the tingles sprint up and down your arms whenever you were around me? Did you ever find yourself going out of your way to see me, talk to me? Did you ever find yourself thinking you would die for me?
If you did, you never told me.
Instead you talked about others.
There was that blonde . . . and that person on the phone that one time. I never inquired, did you ever wonder why?
It was because I wouldn't be able to handle it. I couldn't just stand there as you ran over my heart with a semi truck filled with beautiful women. The same women you always seemed to chat about.
Somehow you never noticed that I didn't reciprocate. I never talked about other women . . . didn't you ever wonder why?
Maybe because there were none. Did you ever think that? Maybe?
You flirted with everyone. Sara . . . a lot. Cath . . . yup. Wendy . . . mhmm. Even some guys, too. But you never seemed to take notice of the fact that I was the only one who flirted back.
Eight years is a long time, no denying that . . . but how long could this go on? How long could I continue to love a man that would never know how I felt? Would I find the courage to tell him?
I hated to admit it, but no. I didn't think I could. Loving someone for eight years . . . and then that person tells you that they are definitely not interested.
It'd be enough to send someone over the edge, and I don't know if I could hold on.
Yeah, I loved you Greg.
But you'll never know.