Disclaimer: I own nothing
A/N: Once again, I succeed at making myself sick with my cheesiness.
She stared at her unfinished essay open on the monitor. So far she had 2 pages completed out of 14. This was going to be a long night. She leaned forward in her chair and focused on completing it. 10 minutes later she had managed to finish a rough draft of another 2 pages.
Her concentration broke when she heard his voice.
"Hard at work I see," his tone was light and airy, but just hearing his voice made her freeze. Why was he in her house? Didn't he get that this wasn't okay anymore?
She swiveled in her chair and stared at him. He looked the same as he always had; t-shirt and jeans, tousled hair. Except now when she looked at him she felt sick, like someone was repeatedly stabbing her with a butter knife.
Her stare was intense and cold, he noticed that immediately. It made him nervous and he shifted under her gaze. The look she had told him something was wrong, that he made a mistake coming here. Her expression was cold and distant; her eyes were studying him, as if she was looking for something that wasn't there.
Their face-off lasted a good 30 seconds before she spoke.
"You need to leave," her voice was stern, and she turned back to her essay.
"What no witty joke, no sarcastic comment?" He asked, trying to ease the tension again. "Something's wrong with you," he winced the minute the words slipped off his tongue, knowing that was definitely not the right word choice. He already knew what was wrong. He saw her wince as well and hit himself mentally for being so stupid.
"You need to leave," she repeated again, staring at the essay. She bit her lip and pretended to focus on the words but they were all blurry. Just seeing him here, in her room, made her upset, and she could feel tears coming. Just focus on getting him out of here before you start crying she told herself.
"Gabriella I-" he began to walk towards her but was met with such an angry glare that he stopped in his tracks.
"No, Troy you need to go" her voice wavered on the last note and she hoped he hadn't noticed.
"I thought we were going to be friends?" he asked softly. She averted her eyes and shook her head.
"We can't, I can't just pretend we're fine."
"So what, that's it? What about our friendship?" he asked. She continued to look away, knowing the moment she looked up she would see how hurt he looked, and she would jump out of her chair and hug him.
He looked at her, hoping she would look at him and admit that she didn't mean what she just said. He wanted her to tell him to stay; he wanted to wrap his arms around her. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. She was broken, and he broke her. He stood there and watched her, looking for a sign that the girl he knew was still in there. The one that was fluent in sarcasm and constantly cracked jokes, instead he saw an empty shell, trying its best not to crumble.
"Just go, please" she pleaded this time. The tears were about to fall, she could feel it. Just this once she needed him to walk away, to leave her, was that too much to ask?
He saw her glassy eyes and knew she was trying her hardest not to cry. She took pride in not being one of those girls that cried at every little thing, and she hardly ever cried in front of other people. He figured the least he could do was leave her alone, especially after all the shit he had put her through anyways.
She watched as he turned around and left, the minute his back was to her the tears began to fall and she buried her face in her hands.
He looked back at her once, and saw that she was crying now. He hated himself for doing that to her, for having that effect on her. This wasn't what he had wanted. She knew this was going to happen to, that's why she was so reluctant in the beginning. He said he wasn't going to hurt her; that turned out well.