AN: I wasn’t going to continue this story, but recent events made me want to write this again.

He’s laughing at something you said, and you don’t even know what. You aren’t aware of the words that are leaving your mouth any more. All you know is that he’s laughing and it’s maybe the most beautiful thing that you’ve ever seen. His eyes sparkle in the most amazing way, turning from blue/grey to almost green.

“Sophie…what’s the answer to… 2a?” The teacher’s voice comes from the front of the room, and almost instantly his laughter stops.

He didn’t even tell you that they’d broken up for a week after it happened. You should’ve noticed any way really. And you would’ve done, if you weren’t so completely blinded by your own feelings.

The way he stopped gelling his hair into the perfect spikes and left it flat against his head. The way they weren’t always together anymore, and the way his eyes were now tainted with pain.

It’s been three weeks and nothing’s changed. Three weeks since she ended it and he still only wants her. You can see it all over his face when he looks at her. That far-away dreamy look in his eyes that hurts a little more each time you look at it.

You want to stop that hurt. Lock him away where nothing bad can happen to him ever again, but you know you can’t do that. You know he wouldn’t want you to anyway.

He doesn’t want you. He still wants her.

“Jay?” You can hear his voice again, and you’re train of through crashes. You can’t resist his voice.

“Yeah?” You turn your head to look at him, and let your eyes rest on the back of his neck.

He’s let his hair grow a little too long, and it’s starting to form perfect, soft curls. Your fingers itch to reach out and touch them, but they stay rested on the table in front of you.

“What’s the answer?” Oh God, He’s using his baby voice. The one he only does when he wants something or trying to get you to forgive him. And it makes you melt from the inside out.

“I dunno.” You shrug, briefly feeling guilty for not giving him the answer he wanted.

Another quick look at the clock on the back wall of the classroom, you’re doing that a lot recently. There was still another 20 minutes left of this.

You turn back to your desk and stare blankly at the sheet in front of you. Nothing’s making sense. Nothing except the boy next to you and the song you can hear him singing under his breath.

“They can have the world, we’ll create our own. I may not be brave or strong or smart, but somewhere in my secret heart, I know. Love will find a way…”

He’s the only boy you know that openly sings Disney songs and that just makes you love him more. That, and when he said he’d share Under The Sea with you.

You can feel your eyes burning and the lump forming in your throat. The only thing you want is for that song be for you. But it isn’t. It’s hers. And even if it weren’t, it still wouldn’t be yours.

He doesn’t want you that way; he’s never going to. That’s what hurt the most about it all.

He looks up at you and smiles, that when you realise you were staring. Feeling your cheeks turn pink you face the desk again and fake working.

And you can smell him too. He doesn’t smell like the other boys. Not just aftershave tinged with sweat, no this was different. Something that was uniquely him, and you couldn’t get enough. It was in the air around you, suffocating you so deliciously and your head starts to spin.

Your heart’s racing now, pounding so fast that you’re scared that it’s going to break your rib and your blood’s rushing so fast around your skull it almost hurts.

But you don’t care. The sting of almost-pain was worth it, if he was near you anything was worth it.

“Want one?” He’s talking you again now, holding an orange packet of sweets in front of your face.

His eyes had changed colour since the last time you looked at him today. They were clear blue now, the green only existing in tiny flecks around the pupil. It sends shivers down your spine and you suppress a shiver.

“No, it’s okay.” Is that really your voice? When had you started to sound so lovesick and weak?

You turn back to your work, unable to handle looking at him for another moment, for fear it’d break you even more. But then you feel the burn of his hand brushing your back, trying to get your attention and it pushed any thoughts of working from your mind. All in one touch.

“You alright Jay?” You hate how he cares. You hate how nice he is. If he could just be an ass, then you could get over him. But he isn’t, he’s a nice guy. And he’d probably feel bad if he knew what he put you though every day. But he doesn’t know, and never will.

“Pack away.” You never thought that you’d be happier to hear the voice of your teacher, sounding from the front of the classroom.

You look at the boy next to one more time, told him you were fine and walked away, without looking back even once.

AN: I know it was very much like the first one, but I felt compelled to write this, as hard as it was. Again, a huge amount of real life is in this cliche of a fic, and thankyou for reading. I would be reeeally happy though if you reveiwed :)