never thought we’d have a last kiss

trigger warning: extremely dubious consent, emotional manipulation

Blake owed Clara an explanation, he knew that much. He decided to be honest, completely honest, for once. "I thought that if I tried hard enough, if I played along, then I would eventually learn to love you the way you want me to."

"But you don't." She said, not phrasing it as a question, all too aware of the reality she now had to face. Clara blinked rapidly, willing away tears. She couldn't afford to break down, not when Blake stood in front of her, baring his soul, betraying his promise.

"I tried to, you don't understand just how hard I tried to."

"You shouldn't have to try! You said you loved me, were you just lying?"

The hesitation to speak was clear, hung in the air like the sword of Damocles over his head. Finally, Blake spoke up again.

"I don't think so. I love you, I'm just not in love with you." Clara shook her head. She couldn't believe this, couldn't believe he would say something like this, couldn't let her only relationship outside of her family fall apart this way. So she stepped forward and kissed him.

Blake kissed back. Blake always kissed back, that was how the entire relationship had began. Clara had wanted Blake and Blake had never learned how to turn anyone down. Clara deepened the kiss, pressing her body against him, all too aware Blake was against the wall. He would never push her away, Clara thought and indeed he didn't, simply ceasing to respond. His body still reacted, as Clara moved Blake's hands higher, trying to remind him what exactly he would be giving up if he dumped her.

"Clara, please, stop."

"Your body's not telling me to stop, B. You love me, you're just afraid of commitment." Indeed, Clara could feel Blake’s erection against her, and Clara didn't wait to let Blake respond, kissing him again, his hands had been placed on her breasts; only this time Blake did push her away, shoving her backwards and sidestepping like this was a bizarre dance. Then he ran out of the dormitory like he was afraid of being chased, but Clara didn't chase him. She just stared, knowing she had lost her boyfriend.

Blake ran back to his apartment, relieved and shocked by what had happened. Blake was breathing heavily by the time he was safely back inside, not much for exercise. Clara had kissed him when he tried to break up with her, and her statement: Your body's not telling me to stop, B, implied she might've been willing to do more if he hadn't left. He had left, though. 

Blake had done it, dumped Clara, but the relief was warring with the self-loathing he felt at having hurt her. She had to have been hurting behind that attempt at seduction - Blake knew that Clara wouldn't have acted as uncaring as she had if she hadn't been hurting. And hurting her had hurt Blake, who was now doubting if he really had tried to love her as desperately as he thought he had. Maybe he could have led her on for longer and the feelings would have shown up. He did love her, in a way he hadn't loved before simply because he had never been in a relationship, be it friendship or otherwise, where he cared less than the other person. Clara had cared too much.

Blake wanted to love her, thought he had loved her, but if he had, wouldn't he be crying? Wouldn't he feel something other than relief? Sure, he felt relief and guilt, but he felt guilt for being relieved, and then reproached himself for judging his own feelings that way. Clara had judged him that way a lot, telling him how he ought to be feeling and making him feel guilty when he wasn't in the same mood she was. Blake's sense of relief grew as he realized he wouldn't have to dance around Clara's moods like that any longer. He was free from that guilt, but thinking that again made him feel guilty.

Blake sighed and took out his plant physiology textbook. If he was studying, he wouldn't be overthinking his emotions about the break up. And indeed he ceased to think about Clara at all as he prepared for his midterm coming up, as he took breaks to play games on his phone, deliberately avoiding his text messages where she would usually be bugging him by now, as he eventually called it an early night and went to sleep. Blake slept easier than he had in a long time that night.

Clara was sobbing alone in her dorm room. Blake really didn't love her the way she had loved him. "I tried to, you don't understand just how hard I tried to." That's not words any girl wants to hear about love from her boyfriend. And now Clara had her first ex-boyfriend. She cried, remembering that last kiss, how she had watched Blake through the window as he literally ran away. Clara hadn't chased him away, but she as good as did. Her kiss had brought Blake to the point where he had shoved her to escape. She was something he had to escape.

Clara was alone again. Maybe she always would be. Maybe boys like Blake were all she ever would attract. Boys who would try to love her for a season before leaving. Boys who might never love her back. If she had known he was temporary, she would've appreciated him more. Clara laid in bed, remembering everything she had loved about Blake, all the dates they had gone on, how he had memorized her favorites of everything and whenever he saw a rabbit he would text her a picture because he knew that was her favorite animal. Clara wondered if Blake would still want to be friends with her. Maybe he would have, had she not - more tears bubbled up at that thought, that Clara had killed every chance at any relationship by trying to keep him as her boyfriend.