Angst short story from me

I'm crazy for short angst. Here's for anyone who wants to taste a bite;


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The first time Eli met Noah, they were six years old and sitting under a rusted slide behind their elementary school.

Noah had a split lip.

Eli remembered it because there was blood on Noah’s chin and dirt on his knees, but he still looked terrifyingly beautiful in the way children sometimes do without knowing it. He sat there kicking pebbles with watery eyes while the other kids ran around screaming.

“You got beat up?” Eli asked.

Noah glared at him. “Go away.”

Instead, Eli sat beside him and held out the last strawberry candy from his pocket.
Noah stared at it for a long time before snatching it from his hand.

That was the beginning.

From then on, Eli followed Noah everywhere like a stray cat that had accidentally imprinted on the wrong person.

He waited for him after class. Shared his lunch when Noah forgot his. Cheered the loudest during football matches. Memorized the tiny things nobody else noticed.

Noah hated tomatoes. He cracked his knuckles when anxious. He always slept during long bus rides with his mouth slightly open.

Eli loved him so quietly it became part of his bones.

But Noah never loved him back.

At first, Noah only tolerated him.
Then he became irritated.
Then embarrassed.

By fifteen, Noah had become one of the popular boys — tall, sharp-jawed, effortlessly magnetic. People orbited him naturally. Eli stayed the same: awkward, too emotional, too devoted.
Too much.

“You’re always there,” Noah snapped once after school. “Don’t you have your own life?”

Eli laughed awkwardly. “I just wanted to walk home with you.”

“Well, I don’t want you to.”

That should’ve hurt enough.

It didn’t.

Because loving Noah had never been about being loved back. Eli just wanted to stay near him. Even scraps of kindness felt enough.

Sometimes Noah softened.
Sometimes he’d toss Eli a drink after practice. Sometimes he’d ruffle his hair absentmindedly. Sometimes he’d text first.
Those tiny moments kept Eli alive for years.

He mistook crumbs for affection because starving people will call anything a feast.

—

The humiliation happened at nineteen.
It was raining that night.
Noah’s friends had dragged Eli to a party he clearly didn’t belong at. Loud music. Alcohol. Expensive people with expensive laughter.

Eli only went because Noah was there.
He found Noah on the balcony surrounded by friends, smoke curling into the air.

One of them grinned when Eli approached.
“Oh my god,” the guy laughed, nudging Noah. “Your puppy came.”

The group snickered.

Eli froze.

Noah looked exhausted already, like Eli’s existence alone gave him a headache.
“Seriously,” another friend said, “does he know you hate him?”

Something inside Eli cracked softly.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.

Just a tiny, fatal sound.

The rain blew onto the balcony in cold sprays.

Eli looked at Noah.

Noah wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Tell him,” the friend pushed. “Tell him he’s pathetic.”

Silence.

Then Noah sighed.
“I mean…” he muttered. “He is kinda annoying.”

The laughter exploded instantly.

Annoying.

Not cruel. Not disgusting. Not obsessed.

Just annoying.

Somehow that hurt more.

Because it sounded honest.

Eli felt heat rush into his face. His ears rang so hard he could barely hear the laughter anymore.

Noah finally looked at him then.
And for one horrible second, Eli saw embarrassment there.

Not guilt.

Embarrassment.

Like Eli loving him was something shameful.

Eli smiled.

A small, trembling thing.

“Got it,” he whispered.

Then he left.

Noah didn’t follow him.

—

After that night, Eli disappeared quietly.
No dramatic confrontation. No angry messages. No begging.

He simply stopped reaching out.

Noah noticed eventually.

At first, it felt peaceful.

No constant texts. No waiting figure outside class. No suffocating affection.
His friends joked about finally “putting the creep down.”

Noah laughed with them.

But slowly, things became… strange.
Nobody waited for him anymore. Nobody remembered his favorite drinks. Nobody looked at him like he was the center of the universe.
Noah realized love had a sound.
And its absence did too.
Still, he ignored it.
Pride is a cruel thing.

—

Eli met Jun almost a year later at a bookstore.

Jun was deaf.

The first thing Eli noticed about him was how gentle he looked while reading, fingers lightly brushing the page corners like he was afraid of hurting the paper.
The second thing he noticed was the hearing aid.

Eli accidentally bumped into him and sent an entire stack of books crashing down.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”
Jun blinked.

A nearby cashier quickly signed something to him.

Jun looked at Eli, then smiled.

It was small. Soft.

Not mocking. Not annoyed.

Just warm.

Eli nearly cried right there.

—

Learning to love Jun was different.
Noah had always felt like chasing a storm barefoot.

Jun felt like coming home during rain.
They communicated awkwardly at first.
Eli learned sign language slowly, clumsily. Jun laughed whenever Eli messed up signs.

Once, Eli accidentally signed: YOU ARE VERY POTATO instead of YOU ARE VERY IMPORTANT.

Jun laughed so hard he wheezed silently.
It became Eli’s favorite sound.
For the first time in his life, love didn’t feel humiliating.

Jun listened even without hearing. He noticed when Eli got overwhelmed. He touched him carefully, like someone handling broken glass with infinite patience.

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[End of part 1]