In the Closet (boy x boy)

39. The Art of Staying

Wednesday, May 3rd

I'm awake and Tavish is leaving. I was drugged and almost raped and Tavish is leaving. I'm stained with his semen and Tavish is leaving. He's leaving. He has tidied up and he's putting some jeans on. There's a nicely folded shirt on his drawer and he's about to put it on too. I'm sat up, back against the headboard. He's fully aware of me but that doesn't change anything.

"Would staying hurt you that much?" I ask and I can perceive how hurt I sound. It's all good because I am that hurt.

Tavish stops, leaving the shirt on the drawer untouched. He narrows his eyes at me like I'm the bane of his existence. I can hardly envision not being exactly that anyway.

His eyes are so blue when he answers. "You hate me, I remind you."

I didn't need to be reminded that. Because I didn't mean it when I said it. I wished I meant it but it wasn't the case. I need to solve this. I needed a proof that he's trying to better himself. And he saved me, without that, I don't want to imagine the outcome. Yesterday, as we laid in his bed, well spent, he received a message from Seamus saying Myla was taken in custody and I would need to make a statement later today. That's when I let the truth about Crash's involvement slip out. Tavish panicked, called Seamus, panicked with him and then had a team sent after Crash. He was apprehended on a city bus half an hour later. So I'm safe and this is all nearly settled. What isn't settled is Tavish and I.

I tried to conclude it all with a text but it only complicated everything. It only made my yearning for him stronger. And now I want him. I want the better man he's trying to be. Now I know he wasn't with a girl yesterday night, instead he was looking for me in spite of his brother's scolding. And I have to give us a shot if he allows it.

"I don't hate you. I take it back."

He glowers at me. "It's said and done, Billy." He's so cold, I feel sick in my stomach.

"Call me Will," I beg before I can even think. My head is pounding. I can't think straight.

"No."

The rejection crushes me. "Please." I feel like I'm on the verge of tears already.

He wears his shirt and strides towards the door.

"No. I'm leaving," he says.

I'm not sure whether I should run after him. All I know is that I want to convince him to stay.

"Stay, please. Let's talk this through."

His hand is stretched in front on him, resting on the doorknob. He's so close to slipping away from me again. I can't allow it.

"We tried, Billy. I'm tired."

My heart is in shambles.

"Tav..." I whimper.

He takes a deep breath, retreat his hand and turns to me.

"This," he points at me then at himself," us, it's a lost cause."

His eyes find mine. I shake my head at him.

"It's not the end. You care about me."

For a moment, I see sensibility flash in his eyes. I know I just struck a delicate string.

"No, Billy," he says and it sounds like he's saying he doesn't care about me. But that's bullshit.

"You saved me! You— You stayed." My voice cracks. My legs wobble. I feel like I'm close to collapsing.