CH1  

Davey’s POV:

I took a seat, second row from the front, and looked around the lecture hall. It was like every other lecture hall at Berkeley: windowless, generic, and full of half asleep students. Sighing, I flipped through my notebook which was light on the notes, heavy on the random poems and doodles, and awaited the arrival of the professor. 

“Hey Davey.” I looked up as my friend and house mate Marc scrambled awkwardly over some people and collapsed into the seat next to me. 

“Hey.”

“Intro to sociology, damn gen eds. This is gonna kill me man. I’m a bio major, what the fuck do I know about people and society?” Marc whined as he shuffled through his bag. 

“Maybe this class will teach you some social skills and you’ll leave the house for reasons other than class and to buy food.” I teased.

“Are you, the poet-recluse, giving me shit about never leaving the house?” 

“Yeah yeah....” I let my less than searing retort trail off as I arranged my pen and notebook on the sorry excuse for a desk. 

“Why are you in this class anyway? I thought you were light years ahead of normal sophomores and beyond all this intro crap?” I fidgeted briefly, racking my brain for the most believable lie so I wouldn’t have to tell him that my reason had just walked in the door. Hair that was every shade from deep brown to bleached blonde, eyes that could swallow you whole and still crave more, and a body that looked like it was molded especially for the skinny black pants he wore too well...

“Hellooooo Davey. Oi, spaceboy, ya there?” I snapped my eyes back to Marc.

“Uh, sorry. Just didn’t get much sleep last night. What did you ask?” I mentally slammed my head against the desk. Smooth, very slick. 

“Nevermind. I doubt you’re even on the same plane of existence with me most of the time.” Marc said in exasperation. I mumbled another apology, slouched down in my chair, and did my best to watch “my reason” as inconspicuously as possible. 

It had started at the end of last semester with a visit to my Postmodern Literature ta. When I got to the coffee shop at which we were supposed to meet, my ta wasn’t alone. Instead, he was chatting with a man who suddenly made me all too conscious of the state of my hair, my skin, my breath, my mismatched socks, my faded-to-grey jeans. Managing, God knows how, to push myself over to the table, I was rewarded with a quick introduction. My ta looked up, smiling as I approached. 

“Hi Davey.” I smiled and paused, looking expectantly at the vision who was sitting ever so calmly, sipping his tea and, to my complete horror and joy, looking at me. When my ta made no move to continue the introduction further, the man set his drink down and extended a graceful hand.

“Hi, I’m Jade.” I slipped my hand into his warm grip and repeated my name which sounded distant and foreign. I met his gaze as his thumb slid carefully over the back of my hand before he released it. Thus ended the most erotic handshake of my life and began a bit of an infatuation. It wasn't often that someone can seize my attention in so sort of a time span, but somehow Jade was now the sole possessor of my mind, and my libido. Through my ta, I discovered my possible "in". Jade was a social theory major and that he would be taing for the intro to sociology class the following semester. That lead me up to now, second row from the front, watching as Jade, my harmless little infatuation, made his way to a seat on the end of the first row. 

CH2

Davey’s POV cont.:

The class seemed to drag on and on with the typical business of “this is your syllabus”, “these are my office hours”, and “I will now read they syllabus aloud page by page even though you are all fully capable of reading it on your own.” I sat fidgeting mindlessly, drawing several glances from Marc throughout the duration of the class. Finally, the professor excused us while shouting a reminder over the din of voices about the reading that was due for Thursday. I tucked my books away quickly and leaned forward, resting my arms on the seat in front of me.

“Are we leaving?” Marc asked, nudging me in the side.

“I’ll see you at home. I just need to talk to someone first.” I hissed. 

“Ohhhh really. I think I’ll just wait around then.” He said with a smirk, sitting down and crossing his legs. I opened my mouth to shoo him away when I noticed Jade begin to walk in my direction. 

“Jade, right?” I said, loudly enough for him to hear, tingeing my voice with just a hint of innocent insecurity. He stopped, looking around briefly before making eye contact with me. 

“Hey... Davey, yeah?” I grinned and cocked my head to the side. He took a couple steps towards me and knelt in the seat next to the one I was leaning on.

“How’s it going?” He asked casually. 

“Really well. You?” 

“Eh. A little busy, trying to organize my life.” I grinned in response and kept my eyes focused on his face. A silence dropped suddenly and I sensed nervousness creep over him. His eyes darted quickly to Marc, then to the floor, and then back to me, his heavily lashed eyes finally settling their gaze on somewhere near my left eyebrow. I managed to keep my jaw from unhinging itself as his tongue slipped over lips before he cleared his throat and asked 

“So, whose section are you in?” 

“Your’s, actually.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing more of you.” He gave me a smile and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. “I have to run, but I’ll see you in section.”

“See ya.” I said, my casual tone betraying my racing heart. I watched him move quickly out of the room, slipping between other students. 

“That’s who you were waiting for? The ta?” Marc asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. I collapsed back in my chair and said

“Not just any ta Marc. One of the most beautiful ta’s either of us will ever have, not that I expect a het like you to appreciate it.”

“Hey, I can appreciate a beautiful man just as well as the next guy. But what does it matter anyway, you can’t fuck your ta!” He said as we got up to leave.

“Who said anything about fucking him?” I replied.

“Please... it’s written all over your face. Besides, you don’t know anything about this guy. He could be the next Manson.”

“For fuck’s sake Marc, the guy wears pale pink button up shirts and emo glasses.” I retaliated.

“Two more reasons to be wary.”

“You’re just jealous because my crush is hotter than any crush you’ll ever have.”

“How middle school of you.” He scoffed. I retorted by sticking my tongue out at him and huffing indignantly, not wanting to admit that a man with whom I’d spent all of two minutes with had the ability to liquify my brain.

Jade’s POV:

I had tried to play off my conversation with Davey as though I’d been surprised to see him when in actuality I had spotted the moment the moment I had walked through the door. In truth, I hadn’t wanted to see him again. I recalled with perfect clarity the night that I’d first been introduced to him and the resulting feeling of unrest and discomfort that had made itself at home in my chest. Something about him had drilled its way beneath my skin and left me feeling anxious. I crossed my arms and leaned against the side of the building, inhaling deeply to clear my mind. 

“He’s just some random kid. Get the fuck over it Jade” I mumbled harshly to myself. 

“Talking to someone sweetheart?” I jumped at the voice and touch of hands to my hips from behind. 

“Des, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.” I turned as the arms wrapped more fully around my waist and I leaned in for a light kiss. Des, or Desdemona, my girlfriend of the past two and half years stood before me, a mess of brown curls and shining eyes. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” She said, still grinning. I didn’t answer, instead I pressed my lips to hers, wrapping my arms about her waist and deepening the kiss suddenly; pleading silently that this would erase the images of Davey that dancing tauntingly through my mind. Her hands were on my chest then, pushing me away.

“Honestly Jade, get a hold of yourself. What would people think?” I sighed and dropped my head.

“I don’t know Des. Maybe that we’re a happy couple enjoying a kiss?” She bent and picked up her bag, shaking her head almost imperceptibly while saying

“C’mon, let’s just go home.” 

“Fine.” She let me take her hand in mine as I fell into step next to her and listened halfheartedly as she ranted about the incompetence of the anthropology department. I watched her speak and I was sure that it hadn’t always been like this. Maybe at some point I had been in love with her animated speech tendencies, her sense of what is publicly proper, her academic ambition... but now we were 21 years old and already pushing “problems” out of site like a married couple who stays together for the sake of children. 

“Jade? Did you hear me?” I looked up suddenly, snapped out of my thoughts for the second time by her.

“Um, sorry love. What did you say?” She gave an exaggerated sigh and said

“I just asked how your day was.”

“Oh, it was fine.” I gave a weak smile and kissed her hand in an apology, not wanting to admit that, despite efforts to keep him out, a person with whom I’d spent less than two minutes with was pushing his way into my mind.

CH3

Davey’s POV:

Eight days had passed since my encounter with Jade in the classroom and Marc hadn’t stopped teasing me about it since. This morning when I ran into him in the kitchen, standing bleary-eyed over a cup of coffee, he raised an eyebrow and said

“Vinyl and liquid eyeliner for the TA? This must be serious...” As tempted as I was to hand his ass back to him on a silver platter, I just threw him a casual

“Fuck off” and grabbed my bag. Marc was a decent human being; he just didn’t always know when to lay off. 

I walked quickly down my street, turning left at the corner, and made my way to campus. Today was the first meeting of Jade’s section and my extra primping was most likely going to make me late. I hurried past scattered groups of other early morning students, attempting to ignore the shout of “fag!” that erupted from one of the clusters. I bit my tongue and turned my head away from them, knowing that a fight between me and ten wannabe Ivy League crew boys wasn’t the best idea.

“You’d think in Berkeley, of all places, people would know better.” I turned back at the sound of the soft voice and saw Jade walking up to me looking concerned. I swallowed harshly, of all places and times for him to be around, this was definitely not the ideal one. I put on a nonchalant voice determined to not let him see that it still bothered me. 

“Yeah, you’d think...” I let my voice trail off for a second before saying “I thought I was going to be late.” I was eager for a shift of subject and luckily, he seemed to pick up on it.

“Well technically you are late. It’s a good thing I’m the ta though, I have chronic tardiness syndrome so you’ll never have to worry about being marked late.” He smiled and my stomach performed the equivalent of a back handspring. I managed a reciprocal smile and followed him quietly into the building. 

“Oh, can I ask you a favor?” He said, stopping suddenly in the hallway. The 9am light illuminated the hall, picking up glints of gold in his unfathomably deep eyes and for a second, my lungs were incapable of expanding. Despite the fact that the rest of my body now had the response time of a sloth, my brain seemed to understand what he’d asked because I found myself nodding at his request.

“It’s probably best if the other students don’t know that we’ve met. I want everyone to start on a fair level with me so at least until the end of today’s section, could you pretend like you’ve never seen me before?” My stomach stopped performing a gymnastics floor routine and dropped suddenly. He wants to pretend like he doesn’t know me. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, it’s not personal, I reassured myself. I pulled out my nonchalant voice again and said 

“That shouldn’t be too much of a stretch seeing as how I’ve spent about five minutes in your presence.” I heard him mutter a quick “thanks” as I pulled the door open and sat down in one of the last remaining desks. I gave the rest of the students a quick once over before pulling my notebook from my bag and stared expectantly at the door through which Jade appeared a minute later.

Jade’s POV:

I hadn’t exactly planned on approaching Davey that morning but it didn’t seem that “Davey” and “planned” ever went well in a sentence together. He had turned sharply at the sound of my voice, his eyes were alight with, what I assumed, was anger at the shouted comment directed towards him. His voice had been calm but it hadn’t been enough to cover up his reaction completely but I let it go. I wasn’t going to press a personal issue with a guy I hardly knew. Instead, we walked to the building in silence, except for the slight squeak-sticking sound of his vinyl pants. 

When I stopped him in the hallway to ask my favor, my mouth suddenly took on the consistency of a dry sponge as I faced him. His devil-lock fell across his pale cheek, brushing flirtatiously against his lips and his dark, expressive eyes gave off the impression of an old soul trapped in a young body. There was a certain air about him that floored me suddenly, some inexplicable beauty that didn’t seem like it should be able to be housed in one person. Somehow, past all that, I found my tongue and was able to spit out my favor. His response was cool and calculated, and he brushed past me into the classroom with equal grace. I stood in the calm hall, making sure I was still breathing. Just seconds of contact with him and I was losing my mind. I despised that he made me feel like I was losing my grip. It shouldn’t be happening anyway should it? I had Des, I didn’t want Davey. He was just one of those charismatic people. Anyone would be drawn to him. He’s just another student, nothing special. Satisfied with my conclusion and resolve, I took a deep breath, entered the classroom and started my section. 

By the end of the section however, my resolve was wavering and my conclusions were altering. Davey had stunned everyone, including myself, with his intelligence and quick, well-formed answers to each question I posed. He analyzed the reading assignments better than most sociology graduate students I knew and by the end of the section, I only had one question on my mind for him. As the rest of the class slowly exited, a few throwing envious looks over at Davey, I walked over to his desk and asked pointedly

“Why are you in this class?”. He raised startled eyes to my face, the only time I’d seen him off- guard for past hour and a half. Recovering quickly, he pulled his bag over his shoulders and said

“I’m not allowed to learn about sociology?”

“Of course you are but you seem way too advanced for this class. Have you studied it before?” He leaned against the desk, crossing his ankles and picking at the stray threads of his fingerless gloves. 

“Does it seem like I have?”

“Do you always answer questions with more questions?”

“Does it bother you?” A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he met my gaze. 

“I just don’t want you to be bored in this class. You might want to try a higher division theory class or something.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be bored.” The smile continued to play over his lips as he walked towards to the door, tossing the words over his shoulder. I was left staring at a soon- empty door frame trying desperately to understand this damn enigma of a boy. 

* * *

I awoke breathless and startled, my whole body trembling slightly from the remnants of a slowly fading dream. I glanced at my alarm clock; only 1:45am. Des lay curled up on her side, sleeping heavily and completely unaware of my sudden jolt into consciousness. I lay still, attempting to calm my heaving breath and shaking hands. I felt ill and dirty, as if my internal organs were rotting. Bits of my dream remained stubbornly in my mind and when I closed my eyes, I could recall them better than I wished. Pale hands were pushing over my shoulders, pressing me against an empty hallway wall. There was warm breath against my neck, a familiar voice whispering my name against my ear, and then the mouth that had uttered my name was caressing my own lips in a kiss. As the person pulled away, their form came into focus and I had awoken with one name on my lips: Davey. 

Nausea rolled suddenly over my body and I stumbled to the bathroom. This isn’t right, this isn’t right, this isn’t right I screamed silently to myself as I gagged. I leaned back against the bathroom wall, wiping the beads of sweat from my forehead. The room seemed to shift and tilt beneath my feet and my heart was racing. I could feel tears forming and I swallowed desperately. Get a fucking grip on yourself! 

“Jade, you ok?” Des’s muffled voice came from the bedroom.

“Yes, fine. Go back to sleep.” I said coldly.

“All right.” Her words blended into a yawn and I knew she would back asleep in a matter of minutes. I staggered back into the bedroom, knowing only of one way to calm myself. Rummaging as quietly as I could through my bag, I finally pulled out a packet of cigarettes and made my way for the door. The nausea still coursed through my body and it was all I could do to navigate the stairs through my haze of tears. 

Finally outside, I collapsed on the steps leading up to the main entrance to the apartment building. Still trembling, I untied the thick strip of black fabric and pulled it away from my left wrist. Encircling my wrist were small circular scars; a bracelet of burns. Shaking out a cigarette and lighting it quickly, I inhaled deeply and studied my wrist as I let the acrid smoke drift from my lips. Picking a spot, I lowered the cigarette from my mouth and pressed the glowing tip to my skin. I closed my lips against a scream that threatened to escape as the pain replaced the nausea that coursed through my body. This is what you deserve I told myself harshly. In the back of my mind, another harsh voice pushed it’s way to the forefront of my memory.

”Are you a goddamn faggot son??” I pulled the now- extinguished cigarette away from my seared wrist and whispered

“No sir, I’m not.”

CH4

Davey’s POV (several days after I left off last time with Jade):

The night found me in my room, as usual, reading an email from my mother. It was full of the classic questions and vague statements. “How are classes going?”. “Michael is doing well”. “Have you met any nice girls?”. I sighed when I got to that inevitable part of the email. Every time I spoke to her, it came up. She sincerely believed that I just needed to meet the “right” girl and I’d be cured of my little gay phase. Christ, you’d think after what that town did to me she’d lay off. I pushed away from my desk, more irrationally angry than I should’ve been over my mother’s typical question. Grabbing my hoodie and gloves, I headed for door.

“I’ll be back later.” I shout to no one in particular as I closed the door behind me and set off for Telegraph. Have I met any nice girls mom? Oh yes, there was the one who asked if I was a fag because I wore makeup. And then there are the ones in my classes who point and giggle because they can’t wrap their Seventeen-warped brains around the idea of a gender-fucker like myself. Yes mother, I’ve met some really lovely girls. I rolled the sarcastic responses through my mind knowing full well that I’d go home and my reply would be just as typical as her questions. I sighed and turned onto Telegraph, heading straight for Rasputin’s. I didn’t want any nice girls. I hadn’t wanted a nice girl since... well I don’t think I’d ever wanted one. And right now I just wanted a nice boy; in particular, the nice sociology boy who’d been infiltrating my waking thoughts and the majority of my dreams. 

I found myself suddenly standing in Rasputin’s, flipping idly through CDs and not paying attention to the selection at all. Marc had said that the vinyl and liquid liner made “my crush” serious, but the fact that Rasputin’s couldn’t even take my mind off of him made it a hell of a lot more so. I looked down and forced myself to focus on the music. Just as I had begun to drift into the familiar bliss Rasputin’s normally causes, I heard the very voice I’d been trying to forget.

“Nice shirt.” I glanced up to see Jade standing across from me on the other side of the divider, eyeing my Queen shirt. 

“Are you trying to pick me up?” I responded quickly, to my own relief and surprise.

“You’re probably thinking of the classic ‘nice shoes... wanna fuck?’ pick up line.” He countered just as quickly.

“Oh right, my mistake.” We both grinned and let a brief silence encompass us. In that six second silence, I thought of about 58 different things I’d like to do to him at that very moment. I was working on number 59 when he cleared his throat and I was shaken from my quick fantasy.

“So, you like Queen?” I asked. 

“Who in their right mind doesn’t like Queen?” He asked incredulously. 

“Exactly.” He smiled at me again, drawing my focus to his gorgeous lips. I caught myself gripping the case of a NIN cd a bit too hard as I fought to keep my brain out of fantasy-mode.

“So, are you here alone?” He asked innocently. My stomach resumed it’s gymnastics routine, this time it seemed to be going for an Olympic medal. Oh please let this be a preface to a date invitation...

“Yeah, you?” I managed. 

“Nah, my girlfriend is around here somewhere.” My stomach ceased it’s flipping and my whole body became encased in cold as I changed my prayer slightly. Oh please let him mean that in the gay boy and his fag hag way.

“Your girlfriend?” I repeated monotonously. My hands resumed their death grip on the CD.

“Yup, let’s see...” he said casually, turning to scan the store. I followed his gaze which fell finally on a pretty girl whose heart shaped face was pinched in concentration as she debated between two cds. 

“There she is. Hey Des!” The girl, Des apparently, raised her head while brushing her curls from her face. She smiled when she located Jade, and started to walk over to us. With each of her steps, my body got colder and colder. That must be the symptom of hope that’s been fatally wounded. 

“Davey, this is Desdemona. More commonly known as Des.” I extended my hand over to her and shook her hand robotically while plastering my best attempt at a smile on my face.

“Des, this is my student that I was telling you about.” Jade said as he slipped his arm around her waist. 

“Ohhh, the sociology wiz kid!” She exclaimed cutely. I blushed despite myself. I wanted nothing more than to turn on my heels and run. Well, either that or beat this “Des” to a pulp with entire Gothic/ Industrial section. I hated her. I hated that she was beautiful. I hated that she was with Jade. I hated that she was a goddamn she for that matter! 

“I’m really not that smart.” I mumbled, more to my shoes than to her out of the fear that if I looked at her directly, I would combust due to jealous rage.

“That’s not what Jade says.” She replied sweetly. 

“He’s brilliant. I’ve never seen someone take to the theory the way he does.” Jade stated. I shifted uncomfortably. I never could take compliments and it was worse when the giver of the compliment was speaking as though I wasn’t there. 

“Yeah I know hun.” Des said, rolling her eyes and giggling. I felt another surge of anger; even her laugh was fucking adorable.

“He’s only told me everyday for the past week how smart you are. I’m beginning to get a bit jealous.” She smiled at her own little joke and I gave a weak grin in return.

“You know, I should get going. I haven’t done the reading for tomorrow yet.” I said suddenly. It was a feeble lie but I had to get out of there. I’d done the reading the day it was assigned last week and had been prepping for Jade’s section all week. Lot of fucking good it did I thought bitterly. 

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.” Jade said, his voice edged with a smile.

“It was nice to meet you Davey.” Des said warmly and I nodded in fake agreement. 

“Nice to meet you too. See you tomorrow Jade.” I all but whispered and ducked out of the store. I turned back at the doorway and saw Jade’s arm still wrapped around her waist as she rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. Swallowing back the biting disappointment that pressed tears to my eyes, I started off back to my house. This is idiotic. You barely know the guy and you’re all worked up over the fact that he has a girlfriend. Besides, there are plenty of other guys out there. I nodded in a sad attempt to convince myself even though I knew that there weren’t plenty of other guys out there. I’d dated two guys since moving to Berkeley, both of whom had just wanted a good fuck which I, stupidly, had given to them. 

By the time I reached my house, I had given up on trying to hold back the tears. I unlocked the door, feeling more lonely and disappointed than I had in years. I closed the door and turned to find Marc reading on the couch. He gave me a quick once over and put his book down immediately.

“Hey... bad night?” His voice was uncharacteristically concerned as he stood and moved towards me. Standing there in the living room while tears clung to my lashes, it suddenly all became too much. I had been a play toy for two guys, a day didn’t pass when I wasn’t insulted or teased, beautiful Jade had an equally beautiful girlfriend, and I was most definitely and irrevocably alone. I looked up at Marc, my lower lip quivering as I nodded slightly. 

“What happened?” He asked gently as he reached out to rub my shoulder. 

“I don’t know” I whispered as he pulled me against him in a tight hug. “I don’t know... I’m just tired. Just so fucking tired.” I could feel him nod as I cried shamelessly against his chest, hating myself for caring this much. Hating myself for feeling so much.

CH5

Jade’s POV:

The nights following my first dream of Davey were fraught with more dreams. Each time I awoke in a panic, my tongue torn between moaning his name and screaming in disgust. I would lay awake after, sometimes for hours, recalling the all-too-vivid sensations of the dreams. They had progressed from the innocent brush of his lips against mine to visions of him pressed up against the same hallway as I drew moans from his lips with deep kisses. 

Rabid confusion would clench at my chest as I attempted to calm myself. I’d press on the slowly healing burn, recalling the pain. Recalling the punishment. I couldn’t comprehend what he evoked in me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand it either. 

And now I stood facing him, feeling myself slipping dangerously under his control again as I gripped to Des like a lifeline. I had to ground myself in her. She was my reality, she was steady and certain. After Davey hastily left, she pressed her lips to my cheek in an uncharacteristic display of public affection and I leaned gently into her touch, trying to focus on the feel of her lips against my skin. Is this what it would feel like with him? Would he be as careful as she is? Would he refuse to really kiss me in public? She pulled away and I snapped out of my daydream, furious with myself for having those thoughts. 

“He’s... interesting.” She said casually as she turned to browse the CDs in front of her. 

“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling surprising defensiveness rise in my chest. Why should I care what she thinks about him? Why should I care what I think about him? He’s nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

“He’s just different, that’s all. Not someone I’d expect you to associate with.” She said indifferently as though she was reciting statistics. I stared blatantly at her now. Had she always been this cold?

“Not someone you’d expect me to associate with? What’s that supposed to mean?” I spat. She turned to face me now, her eyebrows raised to give me that look of “I can’t believe you don’t understand/agree with me.”

“You have looked at him haven’t you Jade? I mean, that hair, and his clothes. And the make up! It’s kind of laughable really.” She finished and awaited my response which she obviously thought would be in agreement with her statement. I could hardly speak. Had she always been this elitist? This closed minded? This normal? Had I? I could barely look at her, nonetheless speak to her. Focusing on the displays around me, I bit back everything I wanted to say. For the first time since I’d met her, I was actually seeing her. Have I wasted the last two years of my life on someone I never really knew?

“Well?” She was still facing me, arms crossed over her chest and pouting like a petulant brat. I opened my mouth to reply but found myself in the same situation that my dreams placed me in; my tongue torn between two feasible reactions, neither of which I wanted to utter. I nodded in defeat and mumbled

“Let’s go home.” 

Davey’s POV:

I awoke early the next morning curled up on the couch with my comforter draped over me. My eyes were sticky with dried tears and smeared eyeliner but I managed to force them open. Marc was sprawled out in the armchair, his mouth open in a soft snore. Pushing my unwilling body off the couch, I made my way slowly to the bathroom to shower. I stripped slowly before easing my body under the scalding water. Everything seemed to be moving slowly and I couldn’t quite focus my eyes on the surroundings. The only thing I was aware of was the dull ache in my chest; no doubt left over from last night’s pity fest. I sank deeply into the hypnotic pulse of the water against my skin and closed my eyes. Almost immediately, I was yanked into a fantasy. His body was pressed to mine from behind, his hands trailing up my chest to caress my shoulders. His lips slid across the nape of my neck as his touches sent me into shivers. I leaned back against him, falling under the beauty of his body curved against mine. His hand reached up to trace my jaw as he turned my face towards his before our lips met and opened up to each other.

“Oh Jade...” My whispered moan resonated loudly within the shower walls and I was tossed harshly from my fantasy bliss. I looked down to find my hands mimicking the motions I had imagined him doing and felt my face flush with shame. 

“That’s fucking pathetic.” I growled to myself as I turned the shower off angrily. 

* * *

“If Jade is straight, so is Richard Simmons.” I looked up at Marc’s smirking face as we walked onto campus. I’d told him everything last night. I’d just opened my mouth and found the whole story coming out. It seemed now that his new mission was to cheer me up by any means necessary. I’d found a vegan muffin on my desk when I got out of the shower and he’d been making silly comments all the way to campus that morning in an effort to get me to laugh. I smiled weakly at him. I had to appreciate his efforts even if I didn’t want to talk about Jade.

“Straight or not, it doesn’t matter. He’s with someone else. I just need to forget about it.” 

“Yeah, but I get a definite gay vibe from him and if that’s the case, do you really think he’s happy with his girlfriend?”

“Since when is your gaydar so reliable?” I muttered. 

“I’m not claiming to have exceptional reception, but you must have felt the vibes too or else you never would’ve gone for him. “ I turned my focus to my multiple rings and pretended that he wasn’t right. 

“Can we talk about something else? Please.”

“Sure, but this is your building. I’ll see you back at home.” He squeezed my shoulder quickly before turning to hurry off across the quad. Biting my lip apprehensively, I walked through the building to Jade’s section. Taking my usual seat in the corner where I could at least pretend I didn’t feel the stares the other students gave me, I waited for him.

Breathless and five minutes late, he hurried in with a stack of papers in his arms.

“Hey everyone. Sorry I’m late.” He paused to set down the stack of papers and brush a long lock of hair from his eyes.

“I have your first response papers here so I’ll go ahead and return those now so you’re not on edge all section wondering how you did.” He wandered around the class, dropping the papers on the owners desks. The students around me flipped through the pages, reading comments and comparing grades. The paper he discarded on my desk had nothing but “See me after section” scrawled across the top in green ink. I swallowed nervously and slid the paper beneath my notebook. 

Time ticked by excruciatingly slowly and by the time everyone was packing up to leave, my hands were shaking horribly. Jade stood at the head of the classroom, slipping his books and notes back into his bag as I approached him.

“You wanted to see me?” I held out my paper as though he need evidence of the request.

“Ah, yeah.” He looked up at me and gave me a half-smile as he leaned back against his desk.

“Are you ok?”. His voice and the question seemed to come from nowhere and I stuttered a surprised

“What?” He laughed softly and said

“You look a little nervous.”

“Yeah well it’s been my experience then when a TA or a professor writes ‘see me’ on a paper, it’s generally not a positive thing.” I said defensively. I could feel my walls being raised. He’d already undermined the control I normally exercised over my emotions, I wasn’t going to let him fuck with my intellectual pride. 

“That might be true in most cases but this isn’t most cases.” He reached for the paper in my hand, his fingers brushing momentarily against my skin as he took it.

“I showed this to Professor Lieberman and he agreed that most social theory seniors don’t even come close to showing this kind of understanding of material.” His eyes were focused relentlessly on my face and I shrugged and muttered

“It’s nothing really. It can’t be that good...” He held up his hand and cut me off. 

“Davey, I want you to work on a research project with me that is part of my thesis. I’ve already gone through several people, none of whom understand the theory to the depths that you seem to.” 

“I can’t Jade. I have my other classes, other obligations.” I said anything that would might deter him from pursuing his request. The truth was, I would’ve loved to work on a project with him... Christ, it would lend new meaning to the term “intellectual masturbation”. But the familiar ache returned to my chest reminding me why I had to end all other relationships with him outside of the standard TA/student relationship.

“I’ve already spoken to Lieberman about it. We can work it out so you get course credit. This is a really great opportunity for you and God knows I could use someone competent working with me.” I chanced a look at him when he stopped talking. His eyes were wide and questioning and his lips were shaped into a quasi-pout, just enough to get his need across. I sighed and rubbed my hand over my eyes, the worn material of my gloves scratching at my skin. Agreeing to this was more than idiotic. It was flat out masochistic.

“Ok.” I mumbled as I looked back at him and his face broke into a breathtaking smile. “Really? Oh this is great, thank you so much! Meet me at Cafe Intermezzo, Saturday at 1pm and I’ll tell you all about the project. Do you know where that is?” I nodded and he beamed again. 

“Thanks again, and I’ll see you on Saturday!” He rubbed my arm briefly before practically bounding out of the classroom. I ran my hand absent-mindedly over where he’d touched me. I shook my head in disbelief at my own stupidity and stuffed the guilty paper into my bag. This is no different from the two men I let use me however they pleased. If I can’t whore my body, it seems that my brain will be an acceptable substitute. 

CH6

Davey’s POV cont:

The several days between agreeing to Jade’s request and meeting him at the restaurant afforded me plenty of time to work myself into a bundle of denial and insecurity. By the time I reached Cafe Intermezzo, I had myself completely convinced that I wouldn’t be able to do what he asked of me and that we’d both be better off if I just told him that I wasn’t going to be able to do it. But I walked in and there he was, his brows furrowed in concentration as he leafed through a stack of articles with his left hand while his right hand halfheartedly searched the table for his drink. I stood in the doorway watching him momentarily. Every time I looked at him I hoped he would somehow fade, somehow relinquish the control he unwittingly had on me, but that never happened. And it sure as hell won’t happen if you have to work closely with him now will it? I shook my head resolutely in answer to my own question and made my way over to his table through the crowded cafe. Just tell him that you’re too busy. Tell him that you can’t, he’ll understand right?

“Hey!” He said excitedly as I pulled out the chair to sit down. His eyes were positively shining through his fan of dark lashes and when he beamed genuinely at me, I could feel my knees become cliched-weak.

“Hey.” I said a bit more quietly as I managed to sit down.

“Listen, Davey. I just have to tell you again how grateful I am that you’ve agreed to assist me. I’m so ecstatic to get to work with someone who isn’t stuck in some pretentious academic mindset. I know I’ll get great results working with you. I can tell already.” He never stopped grinning as he spoke and barely stopped to breathe. Papers spilled off the table as he began to shuffle through the stack again but he didn’t seem to notice or care. I reached down to scoop them up and took advantage of his brief silence.

“Jade ...I....” I paused then, and made the mistake of looking back at him. He became suddenly still and had his hands folded gracefully atop the articles. 

“Yes?” His voice was carefully defensive as if he knew what I wanted to say. I licked my lips and glanced down nervously at my lap. Just do it. Tell him no. This is emotional suicide if you agree to this.

“I just wanted to say thanks for selecting me to help you. I really am very honored.” I finished quietly. 

* * * 

I didn’t have the strength to refuse him on that Saturday and in the subsequent months that we spent working together, there were very few instances in which I ever needed or wanted to say “no” to him. We met every weekend, and sometimes during the week, to do research and write out drafts of his work. I was hardly surprised to discover that he was even more intelligent than I originally thought him to be. He possessed an incredible world perspective that lent itself to unbelievable perceptiveness and stunning analytical ability. It also meant he had the sexiest sense of humor that I’d ever encountered. His dry comments and sarcastic comebacks would have me laughing for ages and our verbal sparring got us into trouble on several occasions in the library. 

When we needed breaks from our work, we’d go grab chais at a local coffeehouse and talk. Slowly, we learned about each other and I shocked myself by willingly volunteering information about my life. With other people I had tendencies to be reserved and cautious, only telling them what was necessary. With Jade however, I told my stories easily and he seemed to reciprocate the action. I learned that he’d been with Des for two and a half years, and while he told me that he was happy with her, I sensed something in the quietness of his words that made me want to believe otherwise. He told me about growing up as an “army brat” and about attending three different high schools because of it. We exchanged amusing injury stories, most of which involved trying to be badasses on skateboards, and discussed favorite bands and our addiction to Rasputin’s. In short, we developed the kind of friendship I’d been craving since arriving at Berkeley.

I kept waiting for something horrible to be revealed about him, but there never was. Just like he never became any less physically exquisite, his personality only reinforced his beauty. Then, the inevitable emotional suicide began to occur. The whispers of warning that had taken up residence in my mind turned to screams, and I knew that before long my heart would be completely lost to him. 

Jade’s POV:

Davey proved to be everything I had needed and wanted in an assistant. He lent much needed depth to the interpretations of studies and the theory, and his naturally focused nature was a godsend. He was easy to work with and easier to talk to and before long, a surprisingly deep friendship had been woven between us. We would work until we were ready to pass out, but then continue to talk until we passed the point of exhaustion and entered into slight delirium. Even in these late night/ early morning talks when I was getting loopy, he was still perpetually collected and calm. There was a constant element of distance in his voice no matter what we were discussing that made me want to become closer and closer to him. The old-soul that I had detected upon one of our first run-ins seemed to grow more obvious the better I got to know him and the component of the mysterious in him was completely intoxicating. 

He was simultaneously becoming a great pleasure and a great danger. He was an adrenaline rush, a breaking of the rules. The inexplicable power he had over me sent shocks of warming throughout my system and the accumulation of three new burns on my wrist served as testament of my addiction to him. The control I’d once exercised so fiercely over my life seemed to be slowly slipping away, dissolving into the profound eyes of a nineteen year old who seemed to understand life better than most people three times his age. 

* * * 

A Saturday morning in late March found us back in the library, pouring over recent statistics without any kind of result. I closed my notebook and stretched my arms over my head, my whole body needing a break. Even Davey’s normally unbreakable focus seemed to be wavering as he stifled a yawn. I grinned and reached over the table, tapping the back of his hand with my pen, looking for an excuse to talk to him.

“Why do you always wear gloves?” I asked in a hushed voice. He looked up, unfazed as usual.

“These technically aren’t gloves.” He replied, toying with the semi-lacey black material.

“Fine Mr. Technically. Why do you always keep your hands covered?”

“Poor circulation.” I looked back at the thin cloth and raised my eyebrow.

“I’m sure those do a lot to keep your hands warm.”

“OK, you’ve got me. I just want to be like Madonna.” He responded with mock exasperation before smiling. 

“Then riddle me this Material Girl, when was the last time you didn’t have nail polish on?” I asked, moving my pen down to tap his fingers. He flicked the pen away and studied his hands before saying thoughtfully

“I haven’t seen my ‘natural’ nail color since I was thirteen and discovered my mom’s stash of make up and nail polish.”

“Impressive. If this whole Berkeley degree thing doesn’t work out, you could always be a manicurist.” He rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded like “jack ass” before stating

“Too bad I don’t have anyone to perfect my skills on, besides myself that is.” I stretched my own arms out across the table, examining my hands.

“You could use me. I’d hate to see a promising manicurist get lost in the shuffle just because he didn’t have anyone to practice on.” I said in my best sincere voice. 

“Great, let’s go to my place then.” He said suddenly, and began to close his notes and textbooks. I stared at him for a moment before finally speaking. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. We both need a break and your nails could definitely use some help.” He winked and pushed his books into his bag.

“So are you coming or am I going to have to practice on myself again?” He gave me a mischievous grin as he stood up. Thankfully, my brain kicked back in and I said

“All right all right. But I’ll only do this if we can gossip like housewives.” 

“Whatever you say Marge.” We laughed loudly, and exited the library to the sounds of the librarian’s incensed pleads for silence. 

Davey’s house wasn’t far from campus and it wasn’t long before we were up in his room. I looked around the unfamiliar space, searching for some more clues that would help me to unravel the mystery of him but there was nothing to help me. The room was exactly as I’d imagined it; countless books and CDs, posters and flyers from shows adorning the walls, and a black comforter strewn hastily across a full bed. 

“Let’s see. I think we’ll do black for your first time.” He said, rummaging through a large case in the corner of the room. 

“How can you tell it’s my first time?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Please.” He said, moving towards me and shaking a small bottle. “You can always pick out the virgins.” He moved to kneel in front of me and reached for my hand. My breath halted momentarily as he touched my hand and the visions from my dreams suddenly exploded into my mind. 

“Hmm... I’ve never done it on somebody else before. I think we’re gonna have to try a different position. Go sit at my desk.” He stood up and gestured to his desk. I obeyed quietly and took a seat, placing on my hands on the cool surface. Within seconds, he was standing behind me, his weight pressing lightly against my right shoulder. His left arm came around my left side, placing his hand between my own hands to steady himself while his right hand set to work painting my nails. I could make out his profile in my peripheral vision and feel the light touch of his breath against my cheek. I pressed my hands tightly to the desk, willing the sensations that the dreams brought to dissipate. Concurrent sickness and pleasure arose in me and I closed my eyes against, praying from them to subside. 

“Ah, much easier.” He said happily as he expertly applied the black polish. I smiled weakly, trying to ignore the whisper touch of his hand on mine. This isn’t supposed to mean anything. I could feel the familiar panic start to encircle my chest, but then he spoke again, interrupting my thoughts.

“What’s Des going to think?” His voice was soft, and surprisingly close to sadness.

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” I replied more curtly than I intended. I couldn’t think about Des now. The truth was that in the last few months, our relationship had begun to deteriorate but I was the only one who seemed to notice. She seemed perfectly content to see me as infrequently as she did because, as she said, “nothing should come in the way of my thesis and academic success” and that included our relationship. I shook my head and shrugged which elicited a sharp hiss from Davey.

“Don’t move stupid. Do you want fucked up nails?”

“Soooorry. I’m a virgin, remember? How the hell do I know what to do?” I replied, thankful to have the focus off of Des. 

“So what are you doing tonight?” I asked as he shifted to do my left hand. 

“I was thinking of going to check out the show at Gilman.” 

“Gilman?” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to Gilman!” He exclaimed unbelievingly, caught in a rare moment of surprise. I shook my head slowly. 

“It’s just one of the most well-known punk venues in the bay area. It’s where bands like Rancid and Greenday started playing. You do know who they are right?”

“Give me some credit Davey. I’m not a complete ignoramus.” I replied, fanning my right hand to dry the nails like I’d seen my mom do.

“You’re coming with me.” He said resolutely as he finished my left hand.

“What?” 

“You’re coming with me.” He repeated, dropping the polish back into the case.

“You’re graduating this year. There’s no way that you can graduate from Berkeley and not have gone to Gilman.” He hopped onto his bed, landing cross legged. 

“I don’t know. I really should spend some time with...” My voice trailed off and I turned away from him, suddenly and irrationally ashamed.

“With Des?” He finished for me. I nodded and glanced back at him. His tongue was toying with his lip ring, and the excited shine in his eyes had been replaced by the familiar distant look. It’s harmless. He just wants you to go to a show with him. You need to spend time with people other than Des. It’s fine.

“I’ll go.” My voice was stronger and more certain than I’d heard it in ages. Davey grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners which brought out an innocence that he rarely showed. 

“You won’t regret it.” I just smiled back and looked down at my freshly painted nails. I won’t regret it... god Davey I wish that could be a guarantee.

CH7

Davey’s POV:

It had taken most of my resolve to refrain from throwing the polish aside and attacking his lips with my own. The proximity of his body had been pushing unbearableness but I would use any excuse to get close to him now. I recalled his soft almost undetectable scent that permeated my senses as I leaned in close to him and the way he gasped ever so slightly when I touched my hand to his. I wanted him more than my body and soul knew how to cope with.

Sighing, I rolled over and looked at my clock which glowed red in the darkened room. 7:30pm. We had agreed that he would pick me up at 8pm and we’d go on to Gilman from there. Pushing myself up, I changed quickly and set to pacing my room until I heard a knock on the front door. I positively bounded down the hallway, knocking Marc back into his room before throwing open the front door. I grinned to find him leaning against the door frame with a casual smile adorning his face. I could feel my heart flutter and I fumbled with my keys as I attempted to lock the door. 

“Was that you I heard crashing through the house?” He smirked as I finally locked the door behind me and followed him down to his car.

“Of course not. I’m graceful. Positively cat like.” I replied indignantly as I slipped into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. Graceful like a heard of drunken elephants.” Our joking continued throughout the drive, only interrupted by my directions, and we finally pulled into a dark side street which I had to assure Jade was “quite safe.” We left our coats in the car and crossed the street to the venue. I couldn’t help but watch him move, his body encased in practically painted on black jeans, a black t shirt and a pentagram belt. Fucking breathtaking. 

We dropped our cash for the show, wandered inside and I immediately felt a sense of calm and belonging. I nodded and smiled to several of the volunteers and pulled Jade inside. The place was full of punk and underground kids drifting around, greeting each other or studying the graffiti coated walls. So far, he’d been quiet, just observing the dim surroundings, a slight smile pulling at his lips. 

“So, what do you think?” I asked, spreading my arms to the tiny room which had become like a second home to me since I’d move here. 

“I think it’s brilliant.” I smiled fully at him and grabbed his hand.

“Fabulous. Let’s go up by the stage.” I didn’t give him a chance to answer before dragging him through the crowd to the front of the stage. A fleeting look of panic seized his face but soon the first band took the stage and there wasn’t time to think anymore. The crowd moved us and soon we were jumping and dancing with the rest of the people. It was just bodies and voices and music. As the night wore on, I stole more and more frequent looks at Jade. He seemed to glow, a look of life coursing through his body as he danced and screamed along. All too soon, the last band finished and people began to file out. Jade bounced over to me, having been separated during the last couple of songs by a pit. His hair was a mess, strands clung to his face with sweat, and I doubted that he had ever looked more beautiful. 

“That was incredible! I’m coming with you every week now. Hope you don’t mind.” I could only laugh. This ecstatic Jade was different from the sarcastically dry and bitter Jade, but I loved the innocent flush of his cheeks and his childish excitement. He chattered all the way back to the car and I was completely content to just listen. Once we were back inside the car, he declared that we were going to get something to drink, his treat. I could only smile widely and nod, completely taken aback by his sudden shift in exuberance. My oh my Davey, what have you released? I leaned back and let him speak, feeling for the first time in months, something akin to happiness. 

Jade’s POV: 

I couldn’t place the exact moment, all I knew was that once the music stopped, I couldn’t stop smiling or talking. I wasn’t worried about Des, I wasn’t worried about “how it would look”, I wasn’t worried about anything. It was just pure energy and something along the lines of freedom. 

I kept talking, not even sure of what I was saying as Davey and I sat down in a booth. As I faced him, the words suddenly halted. He’s responsible for this. He’s responsible for me actually being happy and having, god forbid, fun. I never felt this alive, this spontaneous when I was with anyone else. The thoughts came slowly, formulating themselves in disbelief. He was perusing the menu while tapping out some remembered beats onto the table top. 

‘Thank you Davey.” He looked up from the menu, smiling politely.

“For what?” How do you tell someone that they’ve just opened your eyes to who you want to be? I looked down at my hands, smiling partially at my nails, remembering his touch. 

“You know what it’s like to live. Most people never even come close. I don’t think it’s something you can teach either.” I glanced up hesitantly at him. He was tugging at his devil-lock and toying with his lip ring while he considered what I had said. A long and heavy silence settled itself between us and I could feel a blush creep up to my cheeks, searing my skin. Just as I was about to give up on him speaking, he said

“Not unless you can teach someone what it’s like to die.” Perhaps I could have dismissed this as one of his philosophical points, but tonight his voice was edged with something darker; something that, for a brief moment, rekindled a danger that flashed across his face. The smile of earlier was gone, and his eyes were blanketed by an unfamiliar look. I swallowed thickly and lowered my voice and asked

“Did someone teach you that lesson?” He looked back at me, the usual calm mask settling itself back over his features. 

“You don’t want to talk about this. You had a good time tonight. Let’s just leave it at that and I’ll see you later.” He replied curtly as he stood to slip his coat on and began to walk to the door. My mouth fell open in some attempt to call him back, but I felt as though I’d just had the breath knocked out of me. What the hell just happened? I stared at the door, half expecting him to come back in as if it were part of some joke. He’s not coming back. With that simplistic realization, I grabbed my own coat and hurried out onto the street, scanning the street for him. I saw him walking quickly, body bent against the wind. He was halfway down the block before I caught up to him and reached out to grab his arm. 

“Davey, wait.” I panted. He threw my grasp off of his arm and wheeled around to face me. The iciness of his glare stopped me dead on and I found myself struck dumb, mouthing silent words.

“Jade, I’m telling you. You don’t want to hear about this all right?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you but jesus Davey....” I pleaded. The haunted look flooded his eyes again and he turned away, running his glove- clad hands over his face. A twist of nervousness embedded itself in my gut.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry, ok? I’ll just walk you home-”

“Shut up Jade.” He sighed and turned back to me. 

“If you want to hear it, then I’ll tell you. Just not here ok?” He said, gesturing to the street corner. I nodded and we began the silent walk back to my car. Occasionally I would look over at him and he would have his eyes lowered to the street, his brows knit together in concentration. We finally reached my apartment and he seated himself on the edge of my couch, beckoning for me to sit next to him. I did as he indicated and waited for him to start. The nervousness that had invaded my gut earlier now spread to every cell of my body as the air in the apartment became thick and tense. Just as I was about to tell him again that he didn’t have to say anything, he spoke. 

“I’ve never told this to anyone other than therapists... of course that doesn’t mean that no one knows about. My whole hometown knows about it.” His voice was hushed and I had to strain my ears to hear him even though he wasn’t sitting more than six inches away from me. He sat back and drew his knees up under his chin and encircled his legs with his arms, holding himself tightly. 

“Even before I was ‘out’, I was constantly teased. I’d been called a faggot everyday of my life since I was twelve and by the time I was in high school, I was fairly desensitized to it. It stopped meaning anything and I was determined to not let anyone break me. It wouldn’t matter in a couple of years. I would be in college and I would leave that whole fucking town and life behind me.” He said bitterly. I nodded, not wanting to speak for fear of breaking his current track. He paused, inhaling deeply before starting again. 

“Anyway, toward the second half of my sophomore year, I started ‘dating’ this boy. It wasn’t really dating since we couldn’t exactly go anywhere as a couple but it didn’t matter because suddenly I wasn’t entirely alone anymore. We would meet up in secluded places to make out, he would call me late at night, we’d leave each other stupid little notes in our lockers, stuff like that. It was difficult for us both to keep it hidden like that, but it must have been more so for him. His father was some bigwig with the city and any controversy surrounding the family was an immediate death sentence to his dad’s career. He was taking such a big risk by being with me... I never thanked him for that.” Davey’s voice trailed off and he spoke the last part more to himself than to me. He sniffed quietly and passed his hands over his eyes quickly.

“What was the boy’s name?” I asked softly, not entirely sure why I wanted to know. There was a long pause while Davey studied his knees.

“Adam.” He spoke the name like it was something sacred and I found myself suddenly wishing that he would one day say my name like that. Shut up Jade, you’re not like that. You’re not one of them. You have a girlfriend. I swallowed against my thoughts and nodded again, waiting for him to continue. 

“So we carried on like this for a couple months until he moved. He never told me the truth about why they had to leave. He made up some bullshit about his father getting a better job offer but I knew that somehow, it was because of me. So Adam left, and I was alone again. The insults and taunts seemed to increase tenfold now that I had no one to share the burden with.” He stopped suddenly and looked up at me.

“What happened?” I rasped. I was simultaneously curious and frightened of his answer. A strangely caustic smirk distorted his features as he said

“Adam is lucky to have gotten out when he did.... and I was lucky to have gotten out of it alive.” I licked my dry lips and forced another question to form in my desert of a mouth.

“What do you mean?” He sighed and examined my face intensely.

“Do you really want to hear the details of it?” 

“Only if you want to tell it.”

“I don’t... but maybe I should. Maybe you should know.” Silence stained the room as he collected his thoughts.

“I’m not sure how they found out about me and Adam, but somehow it slipped and the information spread quickly. It was late June, around 8:30pm and I was walking home from work when they caught up to me. I hardly remember anything except the fast approach of footsteps and then pain. Indescribable pain...” his voice dropped to a whisper. 

“I woke up in the hospital two days later where I was told of what had happened. How there had been several attackers, how an early morning paper route kid had found me tied to chain link fence covered in blood, how the police were ‘looking into the incident’. My attackers were never identified which wasn’t a huge surprise. As far as everyone in town was concerned, I deserved it. I was paying for my sins.” His voice wavered as he finished, and then there was only silence again. I was numb. There were no feasible words that could have described the confused combination of emotion that engulfed my being at the telling of his story. 

“Oh my god... I can’t... I’m so sorry... unbelievable.. they tried to kill you just because...” Words failed me continuously but I stopped attempting when he shook his head.

“They could have killed me if they wanted to. They just wanted to teach me a lesson, and leave me with something to remember it by.” With that, he pulled his gloves from his hands and held them out to me, palms up. Running diagonally across the ghostly skin of each palm was a raised pale scar from what must have been an extremely deep cut. I gasped sharply and he nodded, looking away as if he couldn’t bare the sight of his own hands.

“Those don’t bother me as much. You asked me why I always keep my hands covered... these are the real reason.” His voice broke as he turned his hands over to show me two more scars; these traversed the surface of the back of his hands forming the shape of two crosses. The symbol that had dominated my life growing up. A symbol I had learned to associate with love and family, had been carved into this boy’s body with hatred. 

I reached out slowly as if in a trance, tracing my fingers over the raised lines as memory after memory flashed through my head; Sunday mornings at church with my family, my father saying grace at dinner, the crucifix at my grandmother’s house, the small gold cross I had bought for my sister on her sixth birthday. Scene after scene flashing through my mind culminating in another dinner table memory. My father sat at the head of the table, my mother on his right, my sister on his left, and me directly across from him. I couldn’t recall the majority of the conversation, just my father’s harsh voice stating “those fags have no idea of what Jesus means.” I swallowed back the sickness that rose in my throat as I shook my head. 

“What are you thinking?” Davey’s voice cut through the silence. I dropped my hands back to my own lap and concentrated on the carpet as I blinked back tears.

“I’m thinking that my father would have wanted me to have been one of your attackers.”

CH8

Davey’s POV:

While I told my story, my body became cold. Not the jealous, angry cold that I had felt when I met Des. No, this was a barren cold. It was the frigidity of an abyss that engulfed me. I almost felt as if I had stepped out of my self while I spoke and the whole experience became surreal. I was aware that Jade was there, that I was telling this for his sake, but part of me couldn’t understand why. Why was I bringing this up after so many years? Why did I want him to know? As I pulled my gloves off, I snapped back into my body and the moment went from surreal to overtly real. Everything seemed sharper. The pain and disgust etched onto Jade’s fade, the ache that accompanied my thoughts of Adam, the fear of Jade’s reaction... it all seemed to increase exponentially. 

His fingers caressed my scars as if trying to heal my too-deep wounds and I bit back sobs. I will not cry over this again. I’ve spent too many years being angry, spent too many years crying over what those bastards had done. When I dared to look back up at him, I could sense the inevitable nervousness, confusion, and pity, but nothing could have prepared me for his answer to my question. 

“What?” Not sure I had heard him correctly but too afraid that I had, I pulled my legs close to my body again and gripped the fabric of my pants. 

“My father would have wanted me to hurt you.” He said plainly, as if he were reciting the alphabet. 

“And what about you? Now that you’re absolutely sure that I’m gay, do you want to hurt me too?” I shook with the sudden violence of my furious voice. Anger born out of fear. Fear that he would despise me, that he would think I was weak, and most horrifyingly, that he would he would take too closely after his father. 

“Jesus Davey, how could you say that? I would never hurt you.” Intentionally I finished silently for him. He raised his head and in the dim light, I saw shimmering trails of tears forcing their way down his cheeks. I felt guilt drop heavily into my gut but my quickening fear restrained me from reaching out to him. 

“Do you think I was paying for my sins?” I asked bitterly, hating myself for every harsh sound. A sigh fell from his lips as he pressed his head to his hands.

“I was raised to believe that.” His words muffled my his hands.

“Do you still believe it?” My words were entirely cold now, seeped with the need to know.

“I would never hurt you Davey.” He repeated, his face still buried in his hands. 

“You’re not answering the question.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly before raising his gaze to mine hesitantly. His face was plagued with distress and he wrung his hands as though attempting to shatter his bones. 

“I don’t know what I believe.” His voice scared and unsure and he crossed his arms protectively over his chest as he spoke. I saw now the conflict residing in his eyes; the chaotic fire that everyone who fought a war against themselves carried. He was holding himself, rocking back and forth slowly. He looked so lost and I had done that to him. The all too familiar tightness in my throat built up and my eyes began to sting. No. No you fucking weakling! You will not cry anymore. Not for him, not for anyone. My whole being ached with fatigue but I managed to push myself off the couch. I had to get out of there. 

“I’m sorry Jade. I shouldn’t have told you.” I whispered. That’s a lie. You wanted to tell him. You wanted him to comfort you. You wanted to believe that you’re not alone and you want him to prove that to you.

“Where are you going?” He sniffed, standing shakily and looking to me.

“Home.” I stared at the floor, unable to raise my eyes to him any longer.

“I’ll drive you. You shouldn’t be out this late on your own.” He said, reaching for his keys that he had tossed onto the table. 

“You never cared before.” I stated. It was true. Before tonight. I’d often walk the whole six blocks home alone from his place, no matter what hour it was. I could tell he was fiddling nervously with his keys from the light clinking sound that bounced off the walls. 

“Well... that was before I... I mean, before you told...” He stuttered and I grimaced at what he was attempting to say.

“I can handle it. Nothing’s changed from last week.” I walked to the door and pulled it open before saying quietly

“And I don’t need your pity.”

CH9

Jade’s POV:

He was right. He was right about the drive home. He was right to ask what I believed. Most painfully, he was right to be afraid of me. 

“And I don’t need your pity.” The empty tone of his voice knocked the breath from my lungs and I was left speechless as the door slammed behind him. I’d gone from feeling completely alive to emotionally dead, and all because of the same person. I stood, staring at the keys in my trembling hands and became suddenly aware that I was sobbing. My body quaked and broke beneath the force of the tears. I took a desperate step towards the door, stumbled and fell to my knees; cursing my own weakness, cursing my father, cursing the people who’d scarred Davey, cursing Davey for his power over me. I clutched the carpet as I let out cry after strangled cry, horrifying myself with the unexpected aggressiveness of them. Des, I’ll call Des. She can help. She loves me. She’ll understand. She’s my safety. Please Des, please help me... I silently begged as I pushed myself up and staggered over to the phone to dial her number. One ring, two rings, three rings...

“Hello?” Her voice was coated in sleep.

“Des, it’s me.” I managed a somewhat level voice, suddenly ashamed of my need to speak to her.

“Jade? Why are you calling at this hour?” Her voice was accusatory and cold, not at all what I had hoped to hear. 

“I... I had a bad night.” I said quietly, punctuating my sentence with a pitiful sniff. I heard her sigh with more annoyance than compassion and there was a long pause before she said

“And?” And? And I need you to tell me that I’m not crazy. And I need you to tell me that you’re all I’ll ever need. And I need you to tell me that I’m happy with you.

“And I was wondering if maybe I could come by...” I let my voice trail off as I heard her sigh again. 

“It’s really late Jade and I’m sure we both have a lot to do tomorrow.” She said slowly with her constantly detached tone of voice.

“But-” I started pathetically. Didn’t she know how much I needed her?

“Actually Jade, I don’t think you should come over anymore at all.” She cut me off quickly, her words were rehearsed and disinfected. I closed my eyes and gripped the phone please don’t tell me this. please don’t do this.

“What?” My voice was dry and cracked. The moment felt suspended as if any second she would laugh and tell me that wasn’t what she meant.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow but I think it’s better if we start seeing other people.” With that, she hung up and I was left with a dial tone for company. It was so sudden that I almost laughed but instead I dropped the phone into the receiver as if it were scorching my hand and the laugh came out as another choked sob. How could she let me down? How could she?. The questions rammed themselves against the walls of my mind, drilling their way into the crevices of my heart. What had I done wrong? How could she just leave me with nothing? My heart thudded against my ribs and the intrusive taste of panic filled my mouth. 

“How could you?” I stuttered out between shuddering breaths. The answer came too quickly, rapidly forming itself into a truth I’d held at bay for too long. 

She could because she doesn’t care. She could because she doesn’t love you. After all, who would love a fucking fag like you? 

I looked around wildly, feeling as if the very walls of my apartment were melting, as if the floor beneath me were cracking. Everything was sliding out of focus and my breath became faster and more difficult to draw. No no no. She didn’t mean that. We’re still together. I’m not a fag. I’m not I pleaded with myself, begging for the damn truth to disappear. 

With my focus in tunnel vision, I took quick, uneven steps to my bedroom. You know what you need. You know what will make it right. Shaking hands that hardly seemed to belong to me found my cigarettes and my lighter. Three more steps and I was on my bed. I could hardly see anything but my trembling fingers as I rid myself of my shirt and my strip of fabric that normally stayed bound to my wrist. The click of the lighter, the spark of a flame, the taste of control as I inhaled, and finally the excruciating burn that eliminated all other sensation as I pressed the tip against my skin. But there was no relief this time. Another one. Yes, just one more. It’ll help. It’s what you need. It’s what you deserve. So I went through the motions again; light, breathe, touch. But again, nothing. I sat shaking, my lungs aching, my eyes burning, my throat raw. So again, one after another. Burn after burn. Prayer after prayer. Anything to take this away. There was no point for this. This was not for me anymore. This was not a cure. As I pressed the sixth one to my throbbing wrist, I whispered one last plea before my vision faded completely.

“Forgive me father.”

CH10

Jade’s POV cont:

The shrill ring of the phone jolted me awake and I rolled heavily to the edge of my bed to answer it.

“Hello?” My voice was shaded with disorientation as I attempted to put together what had happened the previous night.

“It’s me... Des.” Des. Suddenly the night came into perfect focus and I snapped my gaze down to my wrist. Flecks of ash still clung to the damaged skin and it was all I could do to keep the surge of disgust and sickness from exploding from my lips.

“Jade? Are you there? Are you all right?” Her voice actually sounded concerned and I made no attempt to quiet my bitter laughter. How dare she be concerned about me now? She lost that privilege last night.

“Fuck you.” I growled before slamming the phone down. Searing hatred pumping through my veins was the only thing I was capable of feeling at the moment. She was my everything... and this is what she reduced me to, I thought as I stared at my tortured wrist. Picking myself up off my rumpled bed, I walked into the bathroom and began the careful process of cleaning the wounds. Warm water, antiseptic, a strip of gauze. The procedure was distant and removed. I could barely feel the sting of the water or the rough touch of the gauze as I secured it over the burns. Through my haze I could hear the phone ring again, followed by Des’s voice as the machine picked up.

“Jade, please pick up the phone....Jade?” She sighed again. Not the exasperated sigh from last night, but rather a deep sigh; one borne out of sadness.

“Look. I know I was quick and curt with you last night and I’m not calling to say that I changed my mind, but it is important that I talk to you. I’ll be at our usual place at 2. Please come. I really do need to see you.” Now you need to talk to me. Couldn’t be bothered last night. Oh no, just end it cut and dry. Rip me out of your life. See other people shall we? I’m sure you’ve already found someone else you fucking whore! Everything I would have loved to say to her sped through my mind as I walked numbly back into my room and crawled into bed. I swept my hand over the comforter and sent cigarette buts, my lighter, and more ash flying to the floor. I couldn’t care about the mess, about the pain, about anything. Apathy overcame me as I pulled the sheets tightly about my shoulders and willed my world to disappear as I plummeted into escapist sleep. 

Davey’s POV:

Two days had passed since I’d left Jade’s apartment and I hadn’t stopped replaying the whole night since then. I knew it was fear that had pushed me out his door. I was terrified of his reaction, terrified that I shared that much of myself with another person, terrified of my own damn heart. But I would swallow it down and deal with it. Jade meant too much to me to run from him. Even if nothing ever came of my intense attraction to him, he would always be close to my heart. And that’s the danger, the voice in my mind reminded me. 

I now sat at what had become “our” table in the library and anxiously awaited his arrival. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him again, at least quite yet, but it wasn’t as if I had a choice. I knew that he’d show up. No matter what, his research and work were extremely important and he wouldn’t miss a session. 

I was scanning some notes when I heard quick footsteps approaching. I looked up expecting to see Jade hurrying to the table while uttering one of his excuses for his tardiness, but instead it was Des who was taking rapid steps in my direction. I dropped my eyes back to my notes, hoping she hadn’t noticed me.

“Davey.” Her voice was breathless and tinged with worry. I looked up again and smiled falsely.

“Hi Des.”

“Is Jade here?” She was gripping the back of a chair so tightly that her knuckles were completely white.

“No. He didn’t leave from your place this morning?” I asked testily, trying my hardest to keep the envy in my voice as undetectable as possible. She shook her head and looked desperately around the library.

“No... no he wasn’t at my place. I, um... I ended it with him and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.” Her voice was quick and ashamed as she lifted her hands from the chair to gesture uncertainly. I felt the distinct grasp of worry dig into my lungs as she spoke.

“When did you break it off?” I asked quickly as I rose and begin packing my stuff up.

“A couple nights ago, Saturday I think. He called me really late at night... he was so upset, I could hear it in his voice...he wanted to come over... I shouldn’t have done it then. I don’t know why I did.” Her words broke and tears sprung to her eyes.

“I know I don’t have any right, but I’m so worried about him. He won’t call me, he didn’t meet me when I asked him to. I don’t know what to do.” She pressed her hands to her face and rubbed the tears away. If she had done this to him the same night I had left him crying and stripped with my harsh words... I couldn’t even think about what that had done to him. 

“I’m going to his place.” I said sternly and pushed passed her.

“Wait, I’m going with you.” She sniffed as she caught up to me.

“Look Des, no offense, but you’re probably the last person on this planet he wants to see right now. So just go home and I’ll call you.” She stood as if rooted to the floor, the visible stages of her anger that washed over her face were the only signs of movement. Finally she nodded and pulled a pen from her pocket to write her number on my hand.

“Tell him that I love...” She stopped short and instead just nodded again and walked away. Even she couldn’t believer her own lie anymore. 

* * *

I had rushed to Jade’s as quickly as possible. The worry that had crept over me in the library was now completely suffocating me and I could hardly breathe as I hurled myself up the last steps to his apartment. Please let him be ok. I chanted over and over again. When I’d left him that night, he had been a mess. A mess that I would’ve gladly stayed and helped to clean up if I hadn’t been so damn terrified. Oh god if he’s done anything to hurt himself... it’s all my fault. My heart beat forcefully against my ribs as I pounded on his door.

“Jade! It’s me, Davey. Please open the door.” I shouted urgently. There was nothing. No response at all. My heart seemed to move up to my throat. Maybe he’s just at the store. Maybe he had class. I tried to reassure myself but I knew it was futile. 

“Jade!” I knocked harder and I repeated his name over and over again. Finally, I heard muffled footsteps. 

“What do you want?” His voice was dry and rough, and I felt relief come to me. At least he was alive.

“Please let me in.” I begged, reaching out to grip the door knob.

“Why?” His question stopped me cold and for a moment, I had no answer. I really wanted to scream that I was sorry for what I had said, that I was falling in love with him, that I knew what Des had done, that I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. 

“Because I’m worried about you. I just want to talk to you. Now please open the door.” I said rationally. There was a pause, and then a quick click of the door unlocking and the sound of footsteps.

“It’s open.” I pushed the door open thankfully and stepped inside to find a scene that was almost as bad as anything I’d imagined. All the blinds were shut against the midmorning sun and it took me a moment for my eyes to adjust. I could make out pieces of shattered dishes and the outline of an overturned table in the center of the room. His books were strewn across the floor and the phone hung dangling from it’s chord. The stale scent of cigarette smoke stung my nostrils as I searched the dim room for Jade. He sat in the corner of the room, his knees drawn up to his chin like a terrified child. I moved towards him cautiously, whispering calming things like you do to soothe a nervous animal, but he kept his head turned away from me. His tangled and unkempt hair shaded his eyes from me and his shoulders rose and fell in erratic motions. Despite the warm temperature of the apartment, he had on a sweatshirt and what looked like the same pants he’d had on Saturday night. 

“Hey.” I said softly as I knelt down in front of him. 

“How are you doing?” The question seemed obligatory and pointless. Anyone could see how he was doing. He shrugged, still keeping his head turned. I moved slightly, hoping to see his face.

“Please look at me.” My voice was gentle and I reached out, placing my hand on his shoulder. He practically hissed when I touched him, but I didn’t move. He needed to know that I wasn’t going to leave. 

“Please Jade.” I said more firmly and evenly even though my heart had begun to race again. He sniffed and slowly raised his face. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t hold back the alarmed “oh god” that swept passed my lips. His eyes were empty. Completely devoid of anything. 

He was as good as dead. 

CH11

Jade’s POV:

The feel of his hand on my shoulder burned far worse than anything I’d inflicted upon myself over the past couple of days. He was speaking again but I couldn’t comprehend more than half of the sounds through the static of my haze. Why wouldn’t he just let me be? It was so much easier this way. So much easier to not feel, to not care. 

“Jade?” I forced my eyes to focus on his face as the sound of my name resonated recognition in my mind. His voice was distant and so damn hard to understand. It sounded as if he were screaming through water. 

“I asked when the last time you ate was?” He had placed his other hand on my opposite shoulder and the scorching sensation doubled. I shrugged noncommittally. I had no idea. I didn’t even know how long I’d been in the corner and I didn’t particularly care. I kept my gaze locked on the unreadable expression on his face. He seemed to be torn between wanting to cry and wanting to punch me. Punch me, cut me, burn me, fuck me, drain me, kill me. It doesn’t matter. 

“You need to eat. I’ll make you something while you shower.” His hands were on mine now, pulling me to my feet and guiding me to the bathroom. Please just go away. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to see me. I didn’t have the energy to actually speak. Maybe he’ll just go away if you do what he wants, I reasoned weakly with myself. I nodded blankly as he turned the shower on and turned to leave. 

“I’ll be right out here if you need anything.” I nodded again as the door clicked behind him. I stared at the slow-rising steam before moving to take off my clothes. My movements were mechanical and only part of me could understand why I was performing them. As I took the several steps to the shower, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My whole being seemed to be out of focus and I could hardly make out the familiar details of my face. The only thing that stood out in vibrant, nearly painful sharpness were the wounds on my arms. The burns danced in a sick ring around my wrist, but I hadn’t been content to stop there. Deep Xs crisscrossed their way over my forearms and dark bruises spread over my upper arms and shoulders. I couldn’t even recall how I had given myself half of the injuries, but they branded me now with weakness. I turned my bleary eyes away from the image that should’ve made me feel something but in fact just dug a deeper void between my heart and the world. 

I stepped clumsily into the shower and let the now lukewarm water run over my exhausted form. Sighing, I placed my hands on the wall and tried fit the pieces together. Davey was here. He had come in, he had found me, he had touched me. Des wasn’t here. She hadn’t come. Davey had come, she hadn’t. I had the pieces but I couldn’t place them together in a coherent image. I didn’t know what it meant that Davey was here. I didn’t know what it meant that I had burned, cut, and beat myself in the name of my father. I didn’t know what it meant that Des was gone. 

Turning off the water, I stepped out and halfheartedly ran a towel of my body. As I rubbed my arms, raw pain shocked through me and I looked down to see several of the cuts had reopened. Fresh blood crept forth, mixing shyly with the water droplets. I watched the thin drops, urging myself to feel something. Satisfaction, guilt, pain, anything, but nothing more surfaced. I finished drying and hung the damp and bloodstained towel on the door before slipping back into the clothes I’d left carelessly on the floor. 

Dragging myself back into the living room, I found that the blinds were open, the table was righted, and Davey was on his knees plucking shards of glass out of the carpet.

“I don’t remember breaking anything...” My voice was gravely after hours of not speaking. I saw his shoulders rise and fall in what must have a sigh and he looked up at me.

“It’s ok. I’m almost done. I put out some different clothes for you if you’d like. They’re on your bed.” His voice was cheerful and completely out of sync with the fear and sadness that had invaded his eyes. I could see, I was aware of it, but I couldn’t understand why. Why was he sad? Why were there chips of broken dishes on my floor? Why had he set out clothes for me? I could’ve asked all those questions but instead I just nodded again and walked back to my room. Whatever you say Davey. Whatever will get you to just leave me to my own wretchedness.

Davey’s POV:

As Jade showered, I set myself to cleaning up. I knew if I allowed myself to stop and really look at what had happened, or let myself really look at Jade, the sobs that had been pressing against my throat would break free. So instead I pushed the table back into place, opened the blinds, and knelt among the shards of broken flatware in a feeble attempt to “fix” this. 

“I don’t remember breaking anything...” His rough voice dug through the previous silence of the room and I sighed. Of course you don’t. Shock, trauma, pain... pure pain. And part of it’s my fault.. I bit back my guilt and smiled instead, telling him cheerfully that I set out new clothes for him on his bed. I watched him move away, his body had lost it’s grace. He moved mechanically now and his face carried the unmistakable mark of denial. Sighing heavily, I looked back down at my hands that were clutching the pieces of the shattered plates and glasses so tightly that I hadn’t noticed I’d managed to cut myself. A small trickle of blood was making it’s way from two of my fingertips to my palm. Heaving myself up, I dropped the pieces into the trash can and walked to the bathroom. I hissed sharply as the water splashed over my hands and stung the cuts. Turning the faucet off, i reached over to dry my hands but stopped quickly. The white towel that hung innocently on the door knob was marred with thin strips of red that I recognized immediately as blood. 

“Oh Jade...” I breathed sadly. What have you done? Pulling the towel from the rack, I walked back out into living room to find him sitting cautiously on the couch. His hands were folded in his lap and his head was down again, his eyes focused on the carpet. Yanking the towel tautly between my hands, I walked over and sat down gingerly next to him. He made no move, not even a glimpse of recognition that I had joined him.

“Jade.” I stated softly as I spread the towel over my knees. Still no reaction.

“Jade. What happened?” I asked, beckoning to the towel. He remained perfectly still, the slight rise and fall of his chest was the only indication he was still breathing. Are you hurting yourself? Are you punishing yourself for something that isn’t, that could never be, your fault? I felt the frustration knot itself in my throat and I swallowed down the urge to scream at him. His hair fell over his face, shading and hiding his eyes from me and I knew that repeating the question wouldn’t do any good. With the utmost care, I slid my left hand beneath his right one and lifted it free from his lap. I gently pressed his hand to the towel, keeping my own hand atop his. Automatically, his thumb moved over the terry cloth as if it were contemplating the material. Then, as though struck suddenly, he snapped his head up and met my eyes. A complete look of loss passed over them before tears replaced any readable emotion. I could feel his fingers contract, his nails digging into the incriminating towel, as the tears slipped unabashedly over his cheeks. I kept my hand pressed to his and his eyes remained on mine as he let the tears fall.

It never occurred to me then that he wasn’t actually seeing me. 

CH12

Jade’s POV: 

I couldn’t place any of this. The pieces were falling, shattering, scattering. All at once it was just pain. It was complete loss and confusion. The edges of my screen of vision were blurred, closing in on themselves and nothing looked familiar. There was nothing but the taste of tears on my lips, and the burning in my chest as I struggled for breath. Struggling, constant struggling. When has it ever been fucking worth it? My fingers dug their way into the flesh of the towel, that towel with it’s memories, with it’s damning evidence. Shaking shaking shaking, the tears couldn’t stop. I wanted to rip it to shreds, rip my life to shreds, because really, what was left? 

“Jade.” My name came in parts. An almost imperceptible “juh”, followed by a harshly solid “a”, the “duh” sound floating softly behind. All of it in pieces, even something that should’ve been as familiar as breathing was foreign. 

“Jade... shhhh it’ll be ok. I’m here. We’ll fix this.” Fix what, exactly? Fixing implies that you have something to build off of. There’s nothing here to work with. Hands were on me now, running over my back, up my shoulders. More sounds were uttered that should’ve been soothing but instead just raked their way over my ears. Everything hurts. Why does everything hurt? I shut my eyes against the tears, against the present, against Davey, against the tenderness of his hands as he tried too hard to put me back together. 

“You shouldn’t care.” I hadn’t thought that I was capable of speaking and even as those three words tumbled freely forward, I couldn’t quite comprehend that they belonged to me. His hands tightened momentarily on my shoulders and I felt my eyes open, as if by force, to look at him. 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” His voice seemed detached from his face, as if he were a poorly done film in which the sound is out of sync with the image. I could only stare, as if pinned to that moment. Finally I found my words.

“Because I’m not worth the effort.” There was a brief flash in his eyes, something akin to the night he’d told me about his past. The night that was only days ago, but couldn’t have seemed further from the present. I expected him to rage then. I expected him to overturn the table he’d just righted, smash more of the dishes that I had no recollection of breaking, scream until his voice was hoarse as mine. But none of that came. Instead, his arms just slipped tighter around my shoulders and I felt the light weight as he placed his head shoulder.

“Do not tell me what is and is not worth my effort. I decide that and I’ve decided that you are definitely worth it.” I felt the familiar sting of tears as I breathed in his words. How can he be so patient with me? Doesn’t he see what a fuck up I am? Doesn’t he see how filthy and twisted I am? How undeserving of anyone’s patience, pity, or love I am?

“Please don’t bother with me. Everything will be fine.” But even as I spoke, I could feel the lie solidifying in my gut and I could see my own doubt reflected in his eyes. I turned away, staring down at my hands and willed him to leave. If you really wanted him to leave, you would just tell him to get out the nagging voice in my mind taunted. That’s right and you know it. You love to have him here. You love your little beautiful fag. You love that he wants to save you. I pressed the palms of my hands together in an attempt to silence the voice as I sniffed back the sobs that had become all too common. Make it end. Make it all just go away I begged to no one. 

“OK.” His voice was a whisper, that precarious sound tinged with disbelief. His arms slid from my body and I exhaled quickly, letting out a breath I hadn’t been aware of holding. I waited for him to get up and leave. I prayed that he would walk silently towards the door and leave, just as he had only nights ago, but he made no other movement. 

“You don’t have to be here you know.” The flatness of my voice seemed to resonate irrationally in the silent apartment. I kept my head down, memorizing the chips of black on my nails. 

“I know, but I want to be here.” His voice was still a whisper and I could sense him looking at me again. I could just imagine his boundless eyes full of concern and sincerity that he didn’t understand was misplaced. Jesus, why the hell is he still here? He has no place in this, no right to be here. The sudden and unexpected anger gripped my body and I rocked forward, dropping my head to my hands as the fury laid siege upon my trembling limbs. Within seconds, Davey was on his knees next to me, his hands on my back again, his lips whispering those same soothingly poisonous nothings. 

“Jade, Jade look at me. What’s wrong?” He sounded panicked and I felt his hands shake uncertainly as they touched my spine. Who the fuck does he think he is? Thinks he’s so righteous, oh let me fix you Jade. It’s ok Jade. I’m here Jade. The voice was screaming inside my head now, pressing it’s toxic words to my tongue, willing me to speak them. It wasn’t my voice, the poisons and toxins, those weren’t mine. My body quaked and I pressed my head to my knees. 

Please father, please just let me be.

CH13

Davey’s POV:

Jade hardly seemed to be aware of my presence as every convulsion passed through his body and into my hands that were aching to heal him. His body appeared incapable of containing his grief and every brief glimpse I caught of his caged eyes showed me a quickly splintering soul.

“Jade, it’ll be ok. Jade... please Jade.” I could think of nothing else to say, my tongue caught on the repetition that panic brings. My hands sought out the shivering ridge of his spine, touching him gently in hopes of grounding him again. 

“Shhhhh...” The contact came suddenly and fiercely, the heel of his palm shoving against my shoulder, sending me sprawling onto the carpet. My arms came up naturally, protecting my face. It was all instinct and there was no time to speak before I felt his knees pressing to my chest as his hands gripped my wrists. The pressure built up in my lungs to the point of burning and I could feel his nails cutting into the flesh of my wrists. His breathing was ragged and harsh, coming out more in hisses and growls than in typical exhalations. I knew I was struggling, trying to push his form from my body but I couldn’t comprehend the actions. 

“Jade.” I gasped, the weight of him on my chest making it nearly impossible to breathe. His eyes locked on mine and immediately rendered me powerless. I felt my body melt in fear as an intense hatred emanated from his normally beautiful eyes. His face was set in an terrifyingly unfamiliar expression and he leaned in so close that I could feel his breath on the side of my face.

“Shut up. Who the hell do you think you are, you righteous little queer? Think you can come in here and fix me? I don’t need fixing. I’m not the one who’s perverse, who’s twisted, who’s a disgusting... pitiful... excuse... for a man.” With each statement, his grip tightened on my wrist and I felt the sting as the skin gave way beneath his nails. His voice was detached, cold, like nothing I’d ever heard from him. Someone seemed to be speaking through him, possessing him.

“So what do you have to say for yourself you pathetic pussy? Can’t even fight back can you?” I struggled to inhale but failed. Darkness began to bloom in front of my eyes and all I could do was shake my head as all irrational thought was dashed from my mind. As the room began to fade, I strained my eyes to search his face and there, amongst the set lines of pain and the flashes of hate in his eyes, I found the beauty that remained in his vulnerability.

Jade’s POV: 

I awoke with a start, my heart shoving hastily against my ribs. My eyes regained their focus as the room slid into awareness. I pulled myself up, gripping the carpet in the darkness. The glow from the vcr told me that it was 9:35pm. The night noises infiltrated the stillness of my apartment as I failed to put together what had happened. All I could recall was confusion. There had been yelling, there had been silence, there had been violence, but none of that could’ve happened in the past days. That must just be a memory from years ago, something I had lived... something that was in my blood. I scanned the space, taking in the comfortable surroundings and shapes until my eyes came to rest on a still form that lay crumpled on the floor across the room. I took in the sight of what was a body sprawled hurtfully over the floor. The legs were bent at the knees and pushed over to one side so the figure’s back was arched and twisted. My eyes traveled over the slender body as my mind desperately scrambled to fit this into a reality I knew. Nervously, my gaze settled on the shadow-cut features of the figure’s face. 

“Davey.” My whisper was shot through with fear and I moved clumsily towards his body. There was a man’s raw scream, a sensation like drowning, inhaling daggers... when was that? Why could I recall it with such perfection? I pulled myself onto my knees, taking Davey’s ghostly face between my hands. 

“Oh god oh god oh god... Davey, please. What happened?” My whispers escalated to a desperate shout as I traced my fingers over his cold skin. How long as he been here? Why couldn’t I remember? Who hurt him? Why isn’t he moving?

“None of this works... I can’t put this together, you have to help me. I’m so sorry. I don’t understand, I don’t, I can’t, I need you here.” I pleaded as I ran my hands over his shoulders, down his arms, over his wrists. I stopped here and raised his hands into one of the streaks of moonlight. Dried blood rested in dark trails over his pale skin, slithering morbidly over his forearms. I choked back sickness as I lowered to press my cheek against his lips. Hovering anxiously, I didn’t move as I waited for any hint of a breath. Finally, I felt it. A slight brush of air against my fevered face and I sobbed in relief as I pulled back from him. Had someone broken in and hurt us? No, that would make no sense, I was fine. Had we gotten into a fight? Why had he been here in the first place? I kept my eyes locked on his form, fixated by the slight rise and fall of his chest. I ran my hands over my own chest, toying with my ribs, pressing lightly against the skin. Suddenly, it came to me. The severe burning, the sensation of breathing in daggers, the voice. 

”No Dad! Please no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m weak, please forgive me!” The knees were digging into my ribs, cracking and splintering them beneath the weight. 

“Damn right. You’re a sorry excuse for a son is what you are.” A new pain burst through my body as the skin surrounding my wrists yielded beneath his grasp and blood dripped from the wounds. 

“C’mon, fight back you fucking fairy!” A slap rang across my face as I struggled weakly under his grasp. “Pathetic”. His voice ached with scorn but I soon felt the relief of being able to breathe as he removed his weight from my body.

“I will not raise a faggot in this house, you got it?” I rolled over, clutching my stomach and managed a harsh

“Yes sir. Please forgive me.” 

CH14

Davey’s POV:

Light flashed intermittently against my closed lids and I could sense movement. My eyes fluttered opened and an unfamiliar ceiling came into view. Shadows shifted quietly overhead as my eyes grew accustomed to a dim light that I couldn’t place in the context of time. Dawn... midnight... twilight? Spreading my hands out, I felt the touch of carpet beneath my fingertips, but the soft fabric of a blanket skimming over the backs of them. Lifting my head slightly, I saw that a blanket I recognized as Jade’s comforter had been tucked around my body. I freed my hands slowly from beneath the blanket, wincing as I pushed myself into a sitting position. I managed to notice that gauze had been wrapped carefully around my wrists before the room seemed to tilt dangerously as a strange dizziness gripped me and I dropped back to the floor. Each breath burned through my lungs and into my back, and I couldn’t help but let slight hisses of pain slip through my teeth. 

“I didn’t want to move you in case your ribs were cracked.” I turned my head sharply to the right to find the source of the strangely muffled voice. Jade sat a good ten feet away, his knees pulled up so that his chin rested on them. The glow of a floor lamp behind him illuminated his willowy form in the otherwise darkened apartment. Each muscle in my body tensed as I took him into my conscious. My chest heaved in stinging breaths and my wrists burned as I tried to push back, further from him. He’s done this to me. He was no better than the ones who left me with scars. Panic ripped through my exhausted body, igniting reservoirs of adrenaline and I shoved myself to my feet. The agony that burst throughout my back and chest pushed me against the wall behind me as I gasped in shocked pain. 

“Davey, no!” His voiced arched over the hum of the pain and before I could move, his hands were on my arms, guiding me back to the floor. My heart rattled warning after warning against my ribs but I made no movement to fight him off. I doubted that my body would’ve allowed it even if I had tried. 

“Please... don’t move for awhile.” His voice was shaded and careful as he averted his eyes from mine. 

“What did you do to me?” My voice was scratched out weakly and it sounded as if I’d been screaming for hours. He pushed himself back away from me again, placing a distance between us. The look he gave me was haunted and I found myself inexplicably drawn to him, despite what he had done to me. I remained on my back, my hands folded gingerly over my chest, and my head turned to watch him. He moved his hands restlessly over his drawn-up legs as if he were searching for an answer. 

“I don’t know.” His whisper was saturated with sadness and insecurity. He raised his head, searching my eyes for validation but I could only repay his answer with a blank stare. “Bullshit. How could you not remember cracking my ribs and splitting my skin?” My voice wavered, cracking under the lie I was telling. I wanted the sympathy I’d felt for him to disappear. I wanted to fear him. I wanted to hate him but I couldn’t erase the voice that had flown from his throat as he had bled and choked me. It hadn’t been his voice. 

“I- I’m sorry Davey.” He stuttered as he offered the stripped apology and cradled his head in his hands. My heart broke for all of him then; those hands that had drained me, that body that had crushed me, that mouth that had cursed me. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and leaned against the wall. He made no move to stop me this time but rather kept his eyes downcast and his hands in his hair. So we’re back to this again I sighed as I watched him. I needed to figure this out, to break him down, to exorcise his demons. Mostly I just needed to heal him. 

“Tell me what you remember. Start with when I came over.” I kept my voice soft and low. He sniffed and raised his head, searching my face again as if the answer was etched into my skin. His eyes flitted down my arms to my bandaged wrists and a quick wince seized his face before he turned away from me again.

“You came in, you touched me... it hurt.” His words were halting and uncertain as he continued to twist his fingers around strands of his hair.

“I hurt you? How?” I searched my mind, trying to recall how I could’ve harmed him as he nodded shyly.

“You touched my shoulders and... and it burned. It was worse than anything I’d felt in a long time.” He finished quickly as he shot me a scared look. I could only stare at him. I thought I had been soothing him, reassuring him that I wasn’t going to cause him anymore pain, and I had hurt him. The damage was visible in his depthless eyes and by the glint of the lamp, I caught the shimmer of fresh tears on his lashes.

“You told me to shower, so I did. I came back out and you were cleaning. Then I left to change and when I came back out, you weren’t here so I sat down. You came out of the bathroom with the towel and sat down next to me. You asked me what happened... and after that, I don’t remember.” It was so simplistic. He wasn’t, or couldn’t, tell me what he was feeling. I wanted to crack open his heart and mind and search until I found the answers.

“You don’t remember what you did to me?” He shook his head and ran the back of his hand over his cheeks. 

“I woke up on the floor and when I looked over, I saw you lying there. There was blood on your wrists so I cleaned it up and put a blanket over you. I couldn’t understand what happened. There was only the same memory running through my mind and that didn’t have anything to do with you.” His voice had the same flat quality as earlier despite the tears that had escaped the hold of his lashes. 

“What memory?” I asked carefully as I attempted to bridge the distance between us with what I hoped was a patient look. There was a pause that was broken only by the occasional car passing on the otherwise deserted streets. 

“My father.” Those two words came deceivingly easy to his lips but the force behind them seemed to shade the whole apartment. In an understated voice, he related the memory to me which I already knew, I had already lived it. I swallowed back the quick sickness that a truth sometimes brings. He recreated what his father had done to him. As if he had had the same realization, Jade’s eyes unclouded and his hands flew to his lips. I could feel the tension in his body as it heated the room and from behind his splayed fingers, I could see his lips working quickly; muttering, cursing, apologizing silently. And then, just as suddenly as it was brought on, he dropped his hands and his eyes became empty again. Pulling himself to his feet, he took a long look at me and began to move toward his bedroom.

“Jade, wait.” I called out unnecessarily loudly. He stopped, but didn’t turn.

“I became what he wanted.” With those words, he moved into his bedroom and clicked the door shut. 

CH15

Jade’s POV:

There was a numbness overtaking me that I hadn’t felt for years. My body was beyond cold as I crawled back into the mess of sheets. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Anything to postpone whatever is happening here. I closed my eyes, willing the last couple of days to erase themselves as the awareness of what had occurred began to seep into my mind. As exhaustion overcame me, images began to blur together. My body in my memory became Davey’s, my father’s voice became mine. There had been so much screaming, so much rage. Yes father, that was all for you.

The sobbing had started again. I could hear it long before I realized that it was coming from my own body. Ragged and harsh, but lacking the bitter anger that all my other tears had contained. I held myself in fetal position, letting all the shameful fear manifest itself in these choking screams and shivering tears. This wasn’t anger anymore, it was just a purging and a cleansing of a filthy soul. I let the rolling motions rock me as my body stopped existing how I remembered it. I had memories for skin, tears for blood, and screams for bones. 

Davey’s POV:

His heart-splitting sobs rendered me completely powerless. I wanted nothing more than to go to him and press his trembling, grief weary body to my own. I wanted to take all of his pain into my body and leave him with the innocence that he deserved. But I knew that I couldn’t do that. This was his past to work through, they were his memories, no matter how badly they injured them, and I could not save him from them. It wasn’t within my ability to erase any of it. But I wouldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t let him know that what he had done had scared me beyond comprehension. I wouldn’t let him believe that all people gave false love like Des. 

Doing my best to ignore the sharp jabs of pain the pressed into my chest as I stood, I scanned the room for a phone. Breathing shallowly through my nose, I walked gingerly over to the phone and dialed the number that was scribbled onto my hand. Three rings and then a groggy voice.

“Mmmmlo?” 

“Des.” It was more of a statement than a question. She would hear me out, she would answer my questions. This was the only way I could help Jade.

“Who is this?” Her voice cleared to reveal nervousness.

“It’s Davey. We have to talk.”

“Davey, can’t we do this in the morning?”

“It is the morning, so we’ll do it now.” I stated, glaring at the clock which verified that it was indeed in the a.m. 

“Look, I’m really tired and-”

“And you’re going to listen to me and answer some questions because Jade needs help and I can’t give it to him unless I know some things.” I said harshly. I wouldn’t have any pity for her. I couldn’t have any pity for anyone who was responsible for scarring the beauty in the other room. 

“What’s wrong with him? Is he all right?” 

“Not at the moment, thanks in some part to you.” I kept my voice flat and cold, determined not to let my emotions dictate this conversation.

“That’s not fair Davey. You have no idea what it was like...” The softness in her tone surprised me. I thought she would’ve been defensive and angry. Instead, she just sounded defeated. 

“What what was like exactly? You’re right, I don’t know what being with one of most amazing men I’ve ever met is like.” I could feel my frustration build up as my tone grew more clenched. I wanted to scream at her, to place unfair blame upon her, and I wanted her to fight back. I wanted to give Jade a reason to hate her. 

“He his the most amazing man that I know and I’m beyond fortunate to have been able to be with him and to have been in love with him.” Her voice was still soft and careful as is she were afraid of what more she would say.

“So why did you hurt him? People who are in love don’t just go around ripping each other’s hearts out.” I asked aggressively. 

“Actually, that’s exactly what they do.” She wasn’t condescending, just stating her truth. There was a long pause before she continued.

“I did love Jade, very very much. He was my world for two years, but he was lying to himself and I couldn’t be part of that anymore. I felt like I was just waiting for him to wake up.” 

“What are you talking about? You guys had the perfect set up. You were the ideal the couple. You were the people everyone loved to hate because you were so perfect.” I spat out. This was not going how I imagined. She wasn’t supposed to have such sadness in her voice. She was supposed to rage at me and tell me how much she despised Jade. I was supposed to be in control of this conversation. 

“I guess we were. Except that he wasn’t in love with me.”

“Right. He’s just curled up in the next room sobbing because he only sort of liked you. Des... c’mon, he was completely in love with you. How could you say that?”

“No, he’s not crying because he was in love with me. He’s crying because he was in love with the safety that I provided. That’s what we were to each other: safety. That’s not love.” She stated clearly and in an instant, I saw it. Jade hadn’t been distraught because the love of his life had left him. He was ruined because his safety net had been shredded and he didn’t know how to exist without her. She had provided some sort of normalcy that he had craved and thrived upon, and now that was all destroyed.

“Do you know what it’s like to be in love with someone who isn’t capable of loving you?” Her question caught me off guard and I just stared at the phone. Did I even know what it was like to be in love at all? 

“I’m sure he loved you Des, I know he did...” I didn’t want to believe that Jade had hurt her as much as she had hurt him. Her tone was almost ironic when she replied. 

“Maybe he loved me, but he didn’t want me. Frankly I’m not even sure he liked me.”

There was another pause in which all I could hear were her quiet breaths. 

“Look Davey, I never wanted to hurt him, just like I’m sure he never wanted to hurt me.”

“How did he hurt you?” My desire to protect him rose up sharply again and I waited impatiently for her answer.

“It wasn’t intentional. It’s just part of who he is.”

“And what part of him made you leave?”

“You must see it...” Her voice was semi-incredulous and I become suddenly insecure. 

“I’m not in the mood to play guessing games Des.”

“He’s gay.” There’s never an appropriate response when the obvious is confirmed. All I could do was try to save face. 

“Are you sure? Did he ever come out to you?”

“He never needed to. When you’re with someone for awhile, you begin to know them better than you know yourself and that’s the case with Jade.”

“But if that’s all, why did you have to leave him the way that you did?” Another pause and then a deep breath.

“I was angry and frustrated, but most of all I was just so tired. I was tired of being so in love with someone who could never love me the way that I needed him to. Plus, Jade isn’t even out to himself. I wasn’t going to bring it up and leave him at the same time. If you think he’s destroyed now, imagine what that would have done to him.” She was completely right and I knew that I couldn’t despise her anymore. She had done what she had to do and I knew that Jade wasn’t the only one in pain. She had been living with heartache for over two years. 

“I’m sorry Des.” I whispered as I swallowed my pride.

“You don’t have to be. It’s no one’s fault. I just wish I had gone about it differently. I was so rash, and just...” Her voice broke off and I heard her sniff quietly. 

“I know you’re tired and I’m really very sorry, but there’s something else I need to ask you about...” I said gently.

“OK.” She said apprehensively. 

“Do you know if he visits his father often?”

“Once a year.” 

“Do you know anything about what their relationship is like?”

“Do you mean what it used to be like?”

“Well yeah, but also what it’s like now.” There was another pause, but this one had nothing to do with her tears.

“I don’t think I understand what you’re asking...”

“Do they talk a lot? What are their interactions like? Are they close?” What wasn’t she getting? I just needed to know how or if Jade related at all to the bastard who was slowly crushing him. 

“Jade never told you?”

“Told me what?” I said quickly, growing aggravated at her evasion of my seemingly simple question.

“He died when Jade was eighteen.” 

CH16

Davey’s POV cont:

I couldn’t recall the goodbyes that Des and I said to one another as I placed the phone back onto the receiver. Dead. He’s been dead for four years and Jade never mentioned it. Dead for four years and he’s as ingrained in Jade as if he were still alive. I wandered aimlessly about the room, studying the furniture, the obscure films and books that lined the shelves of the bookcases, the objects that told the superficial story of their owner. All these objects, these nothings, what did they mean in terms of who he was? He wasn’t just books of theory and indie films. He was surfacing memories, defensive wit, repressed beauty. He was chipping and disintegrating. He was going to have to start again. 

When I looked up from my meandering walk, I found myself facing the door to his bedroom. The cries had long since ended and I found myself up against a fearful silence. Turning the knob, I pressed the door open slowly. The room was saturated in still-morning blackness and I stood quietly, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Finally, his form came into focus. He lay curled up amidst twisted sheets and his breath came and went in a deep, even rhythm. In this stillness I let myself believe that peace had curled up around him as he slept. 

As I watched him, I began to imagine every injury that had been beaten into his beautiful body. I had endured one attack born of fear and hatred. He’d endured countless ones. Despite the fact that my family didn’t exactly understand my sexuality, they never beat or cursed me. I had been raised with love that I had always taken for granted. Jade had to survive knowing that his father despised him for who he was. He had been raised with loathing and scorn that he would never be able to forget. 

The tears I’d been continuously swallowing back for over twelve hours finally found their release. I pressed my trembling lips together to hold back any sound as I wept for him. I cried for every hand that had ever been raised to his flawless face, for every insult that he had choked down and internalized, for all the years he’d spent believing that what he was was wrong and damnable. And now the man responsible for this was gone. But before he died, he had housed all of his irrational contempt within his exquisite son. Jade was made to carry that self-detestation. He would never be able to lay it all to rest. He would never be able to make peace with the plague of memories and nightmares.

I moved step by step over to the full bed and sat cautiously down upon the edge. The tears were now no more that a steady flow of warmth down my cheeks as I blinked away the blurriness. He lay so still, his head not more than two inches from my thigh. Gently, I spread my hand out and let it hover over his cheek while I studied every rise and fall of his chest, the subtle curves of his body, and the strands of hair that clung to his forehead and cheeks. He’d been my fantasy since the day that I had met him in the coffee shop when he had slid his thumb across the back of my knuckles. That day seemed to have occurred over an eternity ago, and the man who lay here now didn’t seem like he had anything to do with the man I had met on that day. But yes, he was still my fantasy. He retained every bit of beauty that my love/lust stricken mind had bestowed upon him. I allowed my fingers to touch down gently onto his warm skin and imagined the bruises that had once bloomed across his silken cheek. A victim of lies and repulsion. A recipient of unrequited love. When had he ever lived something real? Would he ever let me show him? 

Jade’s POV:

I had felt him when he had sat near me. I had felt the heat of his hand when it had flickered over my face. I had felt his fingertips brush so carefully over my cheek. I had even felt the break of his heart when he cried. I felt everything he thought he had done in secret. I hadn’t been awake, not in the true sense of consciousness, but some deeper part of me had felt him. Like so much of what had occurred over the past couple of days, the experience was inexplicable. All the sensations slipped through the air, crawled over the sheets, pressed and broke through my skin, and coiled about my mind and heart. It wasn’t painful, it wasn’t beautiful, it was just awareness. 

Blinking twice, I opened my eyes to the bright afternoon light that invaded my room. Davey was asleep, curled up catlike at the end of the bed and as I focused on him, the events of the past days didn’t matter. I had a brief hope that it had all just been another nightmarish trip into memory and that perhaps we had just fallen asleep after a long night of working. I even felt clean for a brief moment, but that was taken from me as my eyes alighted upon his bandaged wrists. The simple awareness of his presence that had crept into my body earlier suddenly shocked me into a paralyzing reality. With perfect clarification I recalled every detail of the days and nights. I remember the phone call, the burning, the days I’d spent not feeling anything other than cold, Davey’s arrival, his attempts to fix me, the anger that had bled him, the realization that had crashed over us as we had sat in the living room, separated by our common fear of me.

He sighed and shifted, stretching his lean body out and yawning as his eyes fluttered open. He took in the surroundings carefully, trying to fit it all together before his eyes came to rest on me. A smile that poorly masked his uncertainty flitted over his lips as he muttered a soft “good morning.” We lay there for a long minute, watching each other, unsure of how to proceed. After all, what’s proper protocol for the morning after you’ve revealed too much? In his eyes, I could see him drowning in a helplessness and in that second, I made a decision. No one deserved to be burdened by me. 

So I smiled warmly and said

“Actually, I think it’s afternoon.” Confusion replaced the helpless look in his eyes as his faltering smile faded completely. Before he could ask me anything that would destroy the facade I was attempting to build, I moved off the bed and said quickly

“I’m starving. I’ll make us something.” The truth was, the idea of food repulsed me but I was clinging to any notion of normalcy that I could produce. It was the only thing that could save him. I will not contaminate him.

I walked into the kitchen and immediately began placing various breakfast items on the counter. He followed, the same confusion still knit into his brow. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him toying with his lip ring as if he were about to speak. Please don’t ruin this. This is the only way. Don’t let me taint you.

“Jade, can we-” His voice hadn’t lost the softness of earlier but it scraped horribly across my ears. He didn’t have to finish his sentence to let me know what he wanted. He wanted an explanation. 

“Let’s just call it stress ok? Weird break down, whatever. It happens.” I said out of desperation as I concentrated a bit too hard on slicing a bagel. 

“But, are you ok?” He stuttered almost shyly. 

“Yeah I’m fine. Just hungry.” Believe me believe me believe me. 

“Yeah... ok. Thanks for breakfast.” His tone was disappointed as he grabbed a half a bagel and moved off to the couch. I watched him from behind the safety of the counter. Someday you’ll understand Davey. Until then, I’ll just beg for your forgiveness, unworthy as I am of it. But please, please just let this be. 

CH17

Davey’s POV:

Exhaustion that I hadn’t known in ages sank into my bones as I sat upon the couch. I didn’t know what he needed or wanted and at this point, I was too tired to figure it out. So I just sat and ate the bagel, hardly tasting it. I could feel his eyes on me but I couldn’t raise my gaze to meet his. My body still ached and burned with every breath and my heart was still crumbling under the weight of Jade-centric epiphanies, but I could feel myself slowly detaching from all of it. I could feel the pressure and the tension still sparking in the air, but I was too drained to take any real interest in it. When I finally got the strength to raise my head, I saw Jade standing at the counter, watching the toaster with extreme fascination and I knew that he was detaching too. 

And all I could think was that this was the most anti-climatic ending possible for the happenings of the previous day and night.

* * *

Jade eventually told me that he was going back to sleep and that we should meet up the next day to catch up on our work. I had agreed wearily and left. At that point I was just thankful that he was alive. Whatever game he needed to play about “being fine” would be ok for now because, really, hadn’t I played the same game? Hadn’t I pretended that I wasn’t terrified to step outside? Hadn’t I pretended that I didn’t believe that some part of me actually deserved what I had received? My mind knew that I had done nothing to receive the pain, but it had been a whole different matter convincing my heart of it and I could see Jade beginning the same long war between heart and mind. Like all wars of this nature, Jade’s war required a lie. So we lied; to each other and to ourselves. I lied to the doctor about my cracked ribs and cut wrists. “Brutal rugby game.” I lied to Marc about the same injuries. “Vicious Gilman show.” These were both just stupid enough lies that they bought into them. I also tried to convince myself that I wasn’t in love with Jade. But this, like all my other reassurances, was just another lie to add to my rapidly growing collection.

We asked each other the standard “how are you doing” and we each told the other that we were “fine” when in actuality neither of us were anywhere close to “fine”. He positively reeked of denial and I could barely keep my frustration with him beneath my calm surface that I had spent so many years cultivating. But still, I let it slide. I told myself that he was working it out, that he would heal himself, that there was nothing I could do. I told myself that he would come to terms with what his father had done to him, with his sexuality, with what it meant to not have Des in his life anymore. But the weeks just continued to pass and that weekend became nothing more than a mere glitch in our otherwise “ideal” lives as we carried on with our friendship and our work. 

As we drew closer to early May, our research began to draw to a close. Our meetings at the library and coffee shops weren’t as necessary as they had once been, but we drew them out as long as possible all the same. He would come to me with requests that he easily could’ve accomplished on his own, but I never refused him. We returned to our games of verbal sparring and excessive teasing. The librarian continued to despise us and for long moments at a time, life was how it was supposed to be. There was no denial, no scarring, no convenient “forgetting”. We just got to exist and it seemed that maybe genuine happiness was in reach. But when our laughter would die down, I would see the horrified vulnerability in his eyes and I’d realize over and over again that this was far from through. 

Jade’s POV:

Ignorance wasn’t bliss. It was my survival. Even though I could feel everything pressing to burst forth, I swallowed it all down and covered it up with more lies. Ignore it and it will go away became my mantra. I drowned myself in my work and tried to focus on my impending graduation. I told myself that once I was through with school, I’d let myself “deal” with whatever was plaguing me. Now just wasn’t a good time. Now is never a good time. But I could function. I could put up the mask of normalcy and convince everyone, even myself (some of the time), that I was fine and that nothing had happened. It had originally been for Davey’s sake that I chosen this course of denial, but it soon became apparent that I was doing it for myself. 

Davey... he served as a reminder. He was a constant splinter in my heart. He knew the truth behind all of my lies. He was my masochistic weakness. There were countless times that I wished that I could cut him cleanly from my life, but that was purely impossible. I used my work as the excuse. I needed him for his research skills. He deserved to see this project through to the end. He was a valuable resource. But soon, work and research no longer sufficed as a valid reason. The project was complete but I continued to invent reasons to meet up with him. I needed him to review the bibliography to make sure we hadn’t forgotten anything. I needed help in double checking sources. I needed him to proofread the final paper. I fooled myself into thinking that he didn’t see past these flimsy excuses as we continued with our pointless work meetings. 

I refused to let myself acknowledge that he meant anything to me outside of a work relationship. I had closed that door the morning I had chosen the road of denial and lies. I refused to let his gaze break me down and see more than he should. I refused and ignored and pushed away but that hadn’t stopped the dreams. Nearly every night I would awake simultaneously aroused and horrified. There was no way to erase the imagined feel of Davey’s skin on mine and the feel of his lips against my own became an obsession. An obsession that required punishment. The burning had long since lost any power so I turned to cutting. Line after thin line marred my thighs but the blood soothed me and sleep could overtake me. 

Every night I bled a reality and every morning I chose a lie. I was fine. They were just dreams. Everything was ok.

* * *

“This is an extraordinary study Jade. Both you and Mr. Havok should be proud of your work.” I looked up at Professor Lieberman who sat confidently at his desk, his hand resting atop my thesis. 

“I can almost guarantee a graduation with honors for you. And I’d like to extend an offer of taking you on as my research assistant. Unless of course you have other offers...” His voice trailed off expectantly and I forced a weak grin. This is everything you’ve ever wanted and all you can manage is this lame smile? Graduation with honors from Berkeley and an offer to be a research assistant to one of the nation’s top social theorists and all you can do is put on a fucking false grin?

“Thank you sir. I would be honored to work with you.” I managed as convincingly as possible. 

“Excellent! I’ll be in touch with you soon then.” He extended his hand and I took it ceremonially as I said thank you again and a brief goodbye. 

I closed the door and was immediately attacked by Davey who’d been pacing the hallway during my meeting. 

“So?? How did it go? What did he think?” He was positively bouncing on the balls of his feet as his fingers curled around my forearms. The flecks of gold set his eyes aflame and the nervous excitement was making his whole being hum. His beauty so was all encompassing that, in what was becoming an alarmingly frequent occurrence, I was lost in him. 

“Jaaaaaaade! Tell me!!” He whined as he pulled me towards the door.

“Oh, um... he loved it. He was really impressed.” We stopped on the small balcony on the stairs and he turned towards me again.

“You were in there for 37 minutes. I doubt that’s all he had to say.”

“He said that he could probably guarantee me a graduation with honors. And he wants to take me on as a research assistant.” My voice shook slightly as I related the news and I couldn’t quite figure out why I wasn’t more excited. 

“Jade! That’s phenomenal!” He grinned widely and threw his arms around my neck. I couldn’t stop the quick gasp of surprise that flew past my lips, but before either of us could react and pull away, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my hands to his back. The warmth of his body flowed into my hands and his chest rose and fell in perfect cadence against my own. He turned his head so that his cheek rested against my shoulder and I could feel his breath against the exposed skin of my neck. We had officially passed the acceptable “hug” time and had entered into the realm of “holding”, but neither of us took a step away. This is wrong. This is disgusting. You can’t hold another man like this. My arms tightened around him and I gritted my teeth against the voice. This is sick. You’re sick. Step away, get away from him. Before I could obey, I felt his arms drop from my shoulders and his body move away. He turned and started down the stairs, raising his hand to his face in a fluid motion.

“That’s all really wonderful.” His voice had lost the glow of earlier and he kept his back to me as I followed him down the stairs. 

“I have you to thank for it. I couldn’t have done all that research alone.” He nodded and was silent for a bit until we reached the bottom of the steps. I pulled up next to him and we continued walking across the quad.

“You know the only reason Lieberman asked you to be his ‘assistant’ is because you’re such a sexy bitch.” The teasing seemed perfunctory and insincere but I responded as always.

“Oh, well obviously. No one can resist these pants.” I smiled and winked at him, and a hint of a grin moved over his mouth. We continued walking across the quad and making sexual innuendoes, mostly revolving around pencils and large libraries, but all the jokes seemed forced. I could still feel the comforting yet exciting warmth of his body on mine and I tried to not crave his arms around me again. So I pushed it down and we told joke after joke, lie after life. Chalk another point up for denial. Etch another line into my skin. 

CH18

Davey’s POV:

When my arms slipped around his neck and he folded me naturally against him, I understood what he meant when he had told me that my touch had burned him worse than anything he’d felt. I hungered for him so intensely that what should have been just an innocent hug turned into a wrenching out of my heart and began the disintegration of my will. As his hands branded my spine, bitter tears stung my eyes and I pulled away before I let them hit his shoulder. You can’t burden him with your love. He can’t know that he breaks your heart every time he so much as looks at you.

So I pushed for the normalcy that we’d foolish fashioned, thinking that it was somehow saving us. I knew better, I had always known better, but I couldn’t stop the lies now. We joked and teased but I could tell that he felt the effort that came with this exchange. It wasn’t natural like our other conversations. I could only hope that he wouldn’t pick up on why this time was different. 

We reached Telegraph and stopped to say our typical “see ya laters”. I had just turned to start my walk up to my house when I felt his hand close around my wrist. His hair fell across his face, shading his eyes as he pulled me back to him. Beautiful beautiful beautiful. Those lips those eyes that hair that body. Touch me kiss me hold feel me. I would gladly have put up with all the pain for him to just fucking touch me. Too bad you’ll only ever get the pain... never the touch.

“I just wanted to thank you. Without your help, I never would’ve gotten any of this. Lieberman never would’ve asked me to be his assistant. So thank you, really and truly.” <\i>Really and truly. We were anything but “really and truly” I thought resentfully. I just nodded and smiled as he released my wrist.

“I’ll talk to you later ok?” I nodded again and waved before turning away. I had no idea if he’d “talk to me later”. Was there a point to our friendship now that I wasn’t his research whore? You knew what you were getting into right from the start. I pivoted and found his retreating form, marveling in the way the light tangled itself in his hair. You knew, but look how far it’s gone. Maybe it’s time you end this. There’s nothing waiting for you besides another broken heart.

* * *

“Davey? Hey... ya in there?” . I rolled over in my bed and stared at my door but didn’t say a word. Two more quiet knocks came, a pause, and then a muffled “Nope. I think he’s asleep. Yeah, I’ll tell him that you called” as the footsteps retreated down the hall. I rolled onto my back and studied the ceiling. You’re in love. You’re in love with a man who doesn’t believe he’s gay and who has serious father issues. You’re in love with the most beautiful human being that you’ve ever encountered but you can’t have him. As if on cue, I heard my mother’s voice in my mind. “Well David, no one ever said that life was fair.” Yeah mom, I know I know. But does it have to be this fucking cruel?. 

The footsteps returned and there was a brief scratching sound as a note was pushed under my door. Once the footsteps faded, I trudged across the room and picked up the note.

Davey: Jade called to remind you about the grad party. 335 Shattuck, Saturday at 9.

I read over the note several times before tossing it onto my desk and crossing my room to look at my reflection in the mirror. 

“You will not carry on this absurd, not to mention unhealthy, infatuation with him. This will end now. You will not go to the party. You will stop seeing him.” I stated resolutely to myself before glancing back down at the note. He called to remind you to go. He wants you there. Hell, he may even need you there. You know how much he can despise large gatherings...no. STOP IT. Do not justify this. I placed on my elbows on the dresser and pressed my face against my hands. I knew what was “good” for me. I had known it months ago when I accepted his offer to work with him. But it hadn’t stopped me then and I knew full damn well that it wouldn’t stop me now. 

* * *

I stepped out into the warm May night on Saturday and began the slow walk to Shattuck. I could’ve easily asked Marc for a ride but something in me needed the calm of the night. The week prior had been marked only by the constant debate between my heart and head. The logic and the love battled on and the only thing that I could see with greater clarity was my complete need of him. I’d spent hours crying in that tragic melodramatic manner that seem to only accompany vomit-inducing performances by Hollywood’s “hottest young star”. But these tears had been fucking genuine and each and every one had been shed in self pity. I hadn’t been able to forget the way his arms had encircled my body and held me against his chest. Every bit of obsession and craving that I’d attempted to erase had bloomed forth in a humiliating display of broken will power as I succumbed to fantasies that left me in tears and brooding that left me with pages of typical poetry. Yes Jade, you’ve won. You broke me.

Jade’s POV:

The party was a graduation celebration for myself and three of my “friends” (mostly overblown Berkeley academic snots that happened to travel in the same intellectual circles as I did), all of whom pointed out my neglect of them in past months. I blamed my thesis and they all nodded in understanding. The thesis was the safe excuse. I couldn’t very well say “well I’m sorry but while you were all turning in grad school applications, my world was crumbling beneath me. My girlfriend left me, I have nightly sex dreams about a friend, my father’s voice haunts me day and night, and I can hardly will myself to get out of bed in the morning. But enough about me, how are you doing?”

No, that wouldn’t go over particularly well. Instead, I stood politely in the boring circle of people and listened to debates over the best business and law programs, which professor gave the best letters of recommendations, and which firms offered the best starting income. I tried to remember a point in my life when this was important to me and when these people had actually been my friends. I tried to remember the reason that it had all changed but all I could come up with was the simple fact that I just didn’t care anymore. I scanned the room in search of other people I could escape to but unfortunately everyone else was as distinctly dull as my current group. I had just moved my eyes past the front door when I saw it swing open and within a second, I had excused myself and headed for the door.

“Davey, thank god you came!” I said, not even attempting to keep the relief out of my voice as I practically sprinted over to him and pulled him inside. He gave me a shy smile that showed hints of his eye crinkles and a familiar flutter hit my stomach as I took him in. Black Joy Division shirt that I’d seen him in countless times, pin stripe pants that followed the lines of his body a little too well, his eyes flawlessly done with varying shades of pink, and lightly glossed lips that just cried out to be touched. Just like the dreams... no. Stop this. You know all too well that this is a sin.

“Damn, it must be a god awful party if I’m the life of it.” He joked self deprecatingly as he shut the door behind him. Not just a sin. One of the most punishable ones. You’re not a hell-bound freak of nature. I managed a smile and gestured vaguely around the room.

“The pretentiousness is almost palpable isn’t it?”

“That’s not exactly something new and shocking for Berkeley.” He replied dryly as we found an empty couch and sat down. We occupied ourselves with pointing out particular people and mocking their general existence. I felt comfortable, at home almost, when we were like this. I could quiet the voices and ease into his undeniable beauty. I could convince myself that there was nothing wrong with the flips he made my stomach turn or the immediate smile he placed on my face simply by being there.

“For the love of all that is good and pure, what are we listening to?” He muttered as he glared malevolently at the stereo.

“College radio. An indie scenester’s wet dream.” 

“You’ve brought me to hell.”

“I figured it was the least I could do after-”

“Jade!” A high pitched voice burst through our conversation and I looked up to see Jane, a fellow sociology major making her way over to me. I glanced over at Davey who raised his eyebrows at the sight of this new intruder. If there was a quintessential California girl, Jane was it. She was every inch a Barbie doll and the envy of every woman who idolized Vogue instead of their own minds. 

“Hey sweetie.” She cooed as she perched on the arm of the couch, slipping her hand onto my thigh to steady herself.

“Jane. Hi, how are you?” I said as pleasantly as possible as she leaned in to kiss my cheek. I felt Davey fidget beside me and I longed to shove her Abercrombie and Fitch clad ass off the couch. 

“I’m wonderful but...” She paused and a serious look shaded her sickeningly bubbly features.

“But I heard about what happened with you and Des, and... oh Jade. I’m just so sorry. So how are you doing?” My heart twitched at the mention of Des but I plastered another one of my fake smiles on and said

“Oh, I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking. By the way, this is Da-”

“Oh my god, I know just what we should do!” She squealed excitedly as she grabbed my hand, apparently not at all interested in my answer or Davey.

“I have a friend here that you absolutely have to meet. Her name’s Ali. She’s totally gorgeous and intelligent and you will absolutely adore her!” 

“Look Jane, I’m really not in the mood to-”

“Don’t be silly. This will only take a minute.” She said as she pulled me off the couch. I looked back at Davey who was looking sternly at the floor.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” I said quickly. 

“Yeah, it’s ok. Take your time. I’m just going to go get some air.” He said as he pushed passed me and Jane, and headed for the door.

CH19

Davey’s POV:

I leaned against one of the peeling painted railings of the porch, and took in deep breaths. No Jade, just go. You obviously belong with those people. Go meet another girl who talks in exclamation points and be happy. That’s what you need isn’t it? You don’t need some spooky boy do you? You don’t need someone to show you who you really are. No no no, you need someone to carry on your lies. I gripped the railing and stared out at the street, completely immersed in the shifting of my mood. Not more than five minutes ago, I had felt that extraordinary bliss that only Jade could provide, and now I felt myself slipping into recklessness. You knew, you fucking knew so don’t you dare cry now. What did you expect from him after all? Did you expect to walk in and have him realize that he loves you too? Did you expect him to drag you off to the nearest bedroom to enact one of your countless fantasies? I ground my teeth and dug my nails into the worn wood as I continued to stare blindly out at the street. Expected him to? No.

Needed him to? Maybe. Give up the lies. You know your whole being rests on him now.

“Hi.” I jumped at the sound of voice and turned rapidly toward the sound. A shadow stricken creature stood at the opposite end of the porch from me and I narrowed my eyes to make him out more clearly.

“I saw you inside and followed you out here. I hope you don’t mind.” As he spoke, he took several steps towards me into the glow from the porch light and I soon saw that the owner was as sultry and seductive as the voice. I could make out green eyes lined carefully in black and perfectly pouted lips through the long pieces of black and red hair that fell across his face. 

“What’s your name?” He asked as he stopped near me, resting casually against the railing. He was a slut. A beautiful predator who had picked out his prey for the night. The recklessness solidified it’s grip and I stepped forward, closing the already miniscule distance between us. I recognized his game and I spotted an opportunity to numb the raging disappointment that was shaking my body. Jade doesn’t want you. Might as well take advantage of this since he’s off screwing some sorority chick anyway I reasoned harshly. 

“You’re the one who followed me out here. Tell me yours first.” I murmured. A playful smile danced over his lips as he studied me.

“I’m Trent.” 

“And who are you here with, Trent?” I continued. This was like a game. No matter how badly I’d tried to eliminate this part of myself, this part of what I had been, I had to admit that I knew this particular game very, very well. 

“What makes you think I’m here with anyone?” He countered mischievously. I just raised my eyebrows and smirked in reply.

“Fine. I’m here with Jayson.”

“And he would be...?”

“Well that all depends on when you ask.” 

“Oh?” I questioned nonchalantly. 

“Sometimes he’s my TA. Sometimes he’s a good fuck.” I smiled at the brashness of this boy. A year ago, this had been me. A trophy toy for older guys and a peddler of my own sexuality. 

“Well I wouldn’t want to keep you from your good fuck.” I said, over annunciating each sound in fuck. 

“He’s busy at the moment. Besides, you’re not keeping me from anything.”

“That’s good to hear.” He smiled at me and bit down on his lower lip while his eyes traveled blatantly over my body. 

“Joy Division... I have a tattoo of a lyric of theirs.” 

“Oh really?” I said, cocking my head to one side. He moved closer now, trailing his finger tips over the lettering of my shirt. 

“Mmmhhmmm.”

“Care to show it to me?”

“That also depends...” He whispered alluringly.

“On what?” 

“On whether or not you can find it.” He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips and stared at me expectantly. The whole set up was so rehearsed and cliched, but I couldn’t have cared less. The rashness was coursing rampantly throughout my body and I was in search of something to make me forget, no matter how briefly, that another man in that house held my heart. So I smiled sensuously at the beautiful whore in front of me and linked my hand with his. 

“Come on.”

I pushed the door open and led him back inside. I surveyed the room but I didn’t see a single sign of Jade or his effervescent friend as I pulled Trent down the hallway. An empty bathroom provided the perfect setting and I yanked him in, kicking the door shut behind me. You know what this is. A quick fix, and easy way out. I leaned back against the door and tilted my face down, gazing at him from beneath my lashes. He wasted no time in pressing his body fully against mine and nipping gently at my lower lip. I let my body go slack against his, parting my lips to grant him access to my mouth as unwanted, half formed thoughts infiltrated my mind. Touch me... been so lonely. Need this, need someone. Whore myself to fill my heart. His lips were on my neck now, kissing and licking their way to my earlobe, as he ground his eager hips against my own. I threaded my fingers through his hair and yanked his head away from my skin before leaning in to devour his lips. I could feel him smile into the kiss as I backed him up against the opposite wall. This wasn’t about pleasure. This was about need and desperation. 

We were a tangle of limbs, tongues, and lips as we pressed against one another. I had him pinned to wall and was sucking hungrily at the tender skin of his throat when he moaned 

“You never told me your name.” I pulled away ever so slightly and tilted my hips against his while looking at him innocently.

“Does it really matter?” He dropped his head back and his eyes fluttered shut as I rocked against him and he shook his head urgently. 

“Good.” Each superficial word left a harsh taste in my mouth, but I didn’t stop. 

“So what do I get if I find your tattoo?” I asked coyly, tracing the ridge of his ear with my tongue. 

“What do you want?” He retorted. Jade. I want you to be Jade. The answered thought came too immediately. I swallowed quickly and inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of the boy. Pushing away the thought and immersing myself in feel of the warm body against mine, kissing him savagely. Fuck you Jade. If you’d rather hook up with a Barbie-look alike then that’s just fine with me. It doesn’t matter anyway. So just fuck you. I felt a tightening in my throat as I fought desperately to lose myself in Trent, to block out Jade, to convince myself that I wanted this. 

Without any warning, I slipped my hands beneath his shirt and pulled it swiftly over his head. He shivered as I ran my nails over the taut, but ink-free, skin of his chest. I wasn’t in the mood for the teasing foreplay anymore. We were here for one reason only and the sooner I could finish this little game, the sooner he could make me forget. I turned him around roughly so that he faced the wall as I examined his back. No ink there either. I pressed myself against his back and whispered sweetly into his ear.

“Are you sure you don’t want to help me? Not even one... little... clue?” As I spoke, I trailed my hand over his abdomen and down to his crotch. I moved the palm of my hand against his obvious arousal and rocked my hips against his ass. He whimpered and he turned back around to face me. He moved his hand down to mine that was cupping and kneading him gently and slowly moved it up so that my fingers rested on the button of the pants. 

“Mmm thank you.” I mumbled against his lips as I set to undoing the pants. He was positively quivering beneath my touch and soon I had his button and fly undone. Stepping back, I could see the ink in a low arch between his hip bones. Love Will Tear Us Apart. I dropped to my knees and slid my tongue over the words, delighting in the way he trembled and moaned. Love will tear us apart. How fucking appropriate. How perfectly deserving.

“Well look what I found.” I smiled sweetly as I looked up at him. I licked a long continuous trail up his body as I stood back up to him. 

“I think it’s time for my prize now, wouldn’t you say?” I pouted and he grinned impishly as he repeated the question from before.

“What do you want?” I couldn’t answer. Answering would make this real. Answering would pull me back and make me realize exactly what I was doing. So instead, I switched our places and leaned back against the wall. Taking one of his hands, I placed it against my own arousal and with my free hand, I ran my thumb over his lips and slipped the digit into the warmth of his mouth. He smiled in understanding and continued to tongue my thumb as he undid my pants and pushed them to floor. Releasing my thumb, he fell to his knees and gasped in appreciation as he freed me from my boxers. 

I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the wall as he took me into his mouth. Yes, pull me away from this. Pull me away from myself. He worked me with his tongue and lips as his hands moved around to grip my ass and pulled me deeper into the recesses of his mouth. I let myself fall into the sensuous rhythm of his mouth as he sated the recklessness that was eating away at me. 

Outside the bathroom, people moved along the hallway and their voices carried through the thin walls, but I couldn’t place any of the sounds as a language that I recognized. My body was ablaze and my mind was swimming in nonsensical thought as I ran my hands through his hair and moaned. The tingle that had been sending mild shivers throughout my body suddenly escalated and I felt each muscle tense in unison. Trent tightened his grip on my hips and trailed his teeth over my length, and I clenched my eyes closed tightly as my vengeful orgasm tore through my body. My moans and pants echoed in the bathroom walls as Trent pulled his lips slowly from my shaft. He kissed my hip bones softly as I shuddered and rode out the remainder of my climax. 

“Yeah, nice to meet you too.” There was a click, and suddenly my moans and pants weren’t the only sounds in the room. I snapped my eyes open and met a pair of beautiful brown eyes that haunted my heart. 

“Oh my god.” 

CH20

Davey’s POV cont:

“Oh my god.”

I wasn’t sure who said it first, but time came to a screeching halt and all that occurred within 20 seconds stretched on for an eternity. Jade stood there in the doorway, the door blocking half of his frame. His eyes were wide and pouring over with a catalog of every negative emotion in existence. Trent turned to look at him, still on his knees in front of my semi-nude form. I could sense him appraising Jade before he said

“Hi. Unless you want to join in, could you just be a love and shut the door behind you when leave?” Jade didn’t even seem to acknowledge the words. His eyes were locked on me and brimming with such fury and pain that I was struck silent. We stood there for ages, Trent, in all of his smug sexual glory, on his knees with his hands still firmly grasping my ass. Jade in the doorway, positively blurring with emotion. And me, standing exposed in all my weakness. Then the door clicked shut and he was gone. What have you done?. 

“Well that was weird. So.. where were we?” Trent was standing now, his hands on my hips and his mouth on my neck. What have you done? What the fuck have you done?. Sudden sickness screamed through my body and I pushed Trent away as I stumbled to the toilet. My body shook viciously as I gagged, wanting to purge myself of the past 30 minutes. I felt his hands on my back as he said

“Darmn. Are you ok?”. The feel of his palms against my quaking back only made me feel more ill and sordid. I righted myself, shaking his hands from me as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and fastened my pants. I rinsed my mouth out and was heading for the door when I felt his arms slip around me from behind. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” I muttered as I pulled the door open. 

“Jesus... man, what the hell is your problem?” He snarled as he slammed the door shut with his hand and pulled me back into the room. He stood defiantely in front of me with his hands on his hips and his lips set in an angry pout. Just like a spoiled child. He has no idea what just happened. He has no idea that this has nothing to do with him. I just shook my head and pushed past him. 

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going? You owe me a blow job you greedy little fucker.” He grabbed at my arm but I yanked it away from him and hurried down the hallway, ignoring the stares and the giggles. The only thing that I knew was that I had to find Jade. To what point? I had no idea, but I needed to find him. To explain, to plead, to do anything that would erase that fearful look from his eyes. 

I moved from room to room, every space was just a sea of faces. None of them belonged to Jade. I felt panic rush into my chest . He’ll never want to see you again. You slut, you’ve fucked everything up.. I ran out on the porch, shoving past groups of people who’d congregated for a late night smoke. 

“Byeeee Jade! Give me a call sometime. I’m sure Ali would love to hear from you too!” There, at the front of the lot on the sidewalk, I saw him trying to pull away from a group of woman. I recognized the sickeningly bubbly voice as Jane’s, and it appeared that she still had Jade’s hand clasped between her own. My feet hit the pathway at a run as I hurried towards the group. I reached the gate just as Jade managed to pull away and started to walk fiercely into the night. Flinging it open, I chased after him without a single clue as to what I would say, knowing only that I couldn’t let him disappear like this. 

“Jade! Wait! Please wait!” I called as he moved determinedly away from me. I started to sprint, closing the distance between us quickly. I laid a hand on his shoulder which he shrugged off immediately and kept walking.

“Jade, talk to me. Where are you going?” I begged as I kept up next to him. The whole scene was reminiscent of the night he had chased me down the street, begging to hear my story. The night that turned everything into the mess that we found ourselves in now. I reached out to him again, hooking my fingers in the crook of his elbow.

“Jade-”

“Fuck off Davey. Leave me alone.” His voice was low and threatening as he pulled his arm from my grasp.

“No, not until you tell me what’s wrong.” The moment I said that, I realized the complete stupidity of it. What’s wrong is that he walked in on a guy giving you head. That’s what’s fucking wrong you idiot. But even then, this rage shouldn’t be engulfing his eyes. He had a right to be weirded out, but not looking like he’d rather rip my heart out through my nostrils than talk to me. 

“What’s wrong is that you’re not who I thought you were.” He jammed his hands into his pockets as he kept up his impossibly fast pace down the deserted streets. I felt the guilt in my stomach start to make that quick transformation into anger as I jogged to keep up with him. If that’s his problem, than he better realize that it’s as much his fault as it is mine.

“Oh? And who exactly am I then?” I shouted at his back. He stopped then, pausing in the orange glow of a streetlight before finally turning to face me. The raw disappointment and pain remained branded into his eyes but his jaw was set in complete contempt. 

“You’re a whore.”

Jade’s POV:

The world had shut down the moment I had opened that door. It was a daymare, the unbelievable disappointment embedded in a surreal moment. I found myself unable to look away, wanting to simultaneously be and kill the boy at Davey’s feet. In that brief stitch of time, the turmoil that I already felt around Davey exploded into an unbearable and inconceivable amount that I could no longer bear. So I had run. 

I hated him for unknowingly grinding my heart to nothingness. I hated him for being less than perfect. Mostly, I hated him for letting someone else touch him and that hatred now dripped from my tongue as I spat out “whore”. For a moment, I thought I had stopped him. I hoped that he would turn to dust and disintegrate into memory. But instead, he stood in the middle of the cruel concrete and stared at me as if he were daring me to prove my words. He sees you. He can see that you’re shot through with fear and pain and that you don’t mean a damn word you say. 

“A whore...” He repeated the words in tender upset as he examined the cracks in the street. My heart quickened in an unspoken apology, but I shut my lips against any words that would betray me. You know what he did was wrong, son. He’s just a typical nympho faggot. 

“Then that makes two of us.” He said evenly, breaking his eye contact with the concrete to look at me. 

“What are you talking about?” I said irritably. 

“Jane, Ali... Des. Those women with their thigh squeezes and their oh so innocent kisses and their let me introduce to a friend bullshit. You know you hate that. You know that isn’t you. You’re whoring your good school boy image just as much as you think I whore my body!” He shouted as he stepped closer to me.

“That’s not even remotely similar to what you did! I’m not the one who has to go drain his sorrows into the mouth of the nearest eager and willing boy.” I shouted back, my voice matching his. The dangerous flash of warning flickered back into his eyes as he squared his body to mine. 

“No? Maybe, maybe not. But at least I know what I am. At least I not laboring under some back-breaking form of denial.” His voice had dropped to low growl, punctuated with seductive bitterness and mocking as he gestured vaguely with his graceful hands. 

“You think I’m in denial?” I scoffed as nonchalantly as I could to hide the fact that my heart was screaming with anxiety. He’s too fucking close. Don’t make us look at our lies. Don’t make me live in open agony. His eyes drilled into me, excoriating me to the bone in the night air. The flames of indignation still danced in his eyes but his mouth softened and he pulled back a couple of steps. Before he could utter a respone, I quickly said

“Forget it. It shouldn’t matter.” I turned away to continue walking and prayed that he would stop. You don’t know what you’re pushing against Davey. You don’t know what poisons will seep through when you break the skin.

“But it does matter.” His voice floated out and coiled about my body, halting me again mid-pace.

“If it didn’t matter, we wouldn’t be acting this way.” He continued in a terrifyingly soft voice that had finally unearthed the obvious. 

“I told you Davey, it doesn’t matter. I’m just tired and I’m going home now.” I replied, my back still to him. There was a series of quick footsteps and he appeared in front of me again. This time the indignation and anger was cleared from his eyes and a nervous honesty resided there instead. My body was rattled with the slow disintegration that his being and words were inflicting upon me, but I didn’t have the strength to move away. 

“Jade, we both know it matters. Maybe it matters more than we think it should. All I know is that I’m just so tired of lying.” His voice was raw and stripped, completely saturated in exhaustion and regret. As I looked at his dually fragile and tenacious form, I could not for the life of me remember how we had ever gotten to this point. There was no logical evolution of a friendship here. There was no rational reason as to why seeing his hands tangled in that other boy’s hair had asphixiated my heart. All I knew was that I was tired too. Tired of lying, tired of existing. 

“I’m tired too, like I said. So I’m going home. Just... just do whatever you want.” I stated simply. Just go Davey. This is for everyone’s own good. We stood facing each other; both too proud to back away and both to exhausted to create apologies or arguments.

“What I want? You’d like me to do what I want?”

“Yes. Just go, it won’t matter.” I couldn’t disguise the weariness in my voice anymore as I raised my eyes to his. 

“This will” he murmured. Before a heartbeat had passed between his words and silence, his fingers were resting on my jawline and his lips were pressed against my own in a complete statement of a kiss.

CH21

Davey’s POV:

I had reached that inevitable breaking point. I was just simply unable to function with words and lies and meaningless banter anymore. We had reached the pinnacle and the feel of my lips on his was going to prove that. I felt his body initially tense beneath my touch as I pressed against him, making sure that he would understand what every fiber in my body was screaming. Yes Jade, can you hear that? That’s honesty. That’s real. I graced his jaw with my fingers as I let my lips linger against his and slowly, the rigidity of his body began to melt away. He tilted his head to fit his lips more perfectly with mine and I felt his hands flutter nervously by my hips. This moment was the only sliver of sense that I’d experienced in months. My heart was quieted, my mind was soothed, and the ache that had inhabited my body was tempered. 

I felt it first in the sudden quickening of his pulse beneath my fingertips. It wasn’t the heightened heart beat of excitement. This was fear. The tense rigidity snapped back into his body and in the next second, he had torn himself violently from me and staggered backwards. 

“What are you doing?” His voice shook as he pressed his fingers to his lips. His eyes were filled with the terror of a child who had been caught doing something bad and was now about to be punished. God that’s it... the punishment, the child, and the father. Haunted by a voice, a constant internalized threat. He stood as if suspended by the tremors running through his body and I saw the slow rise of tears in his eyes. I made no movement towards him, knowing that my actions had caused the tears and the fear was enough to keep me back. The soothing quiet of earlier had been completely shattered and nothing but a humming pain resonated in my body now. 

“Why?” He whispered, his fingers still spread over his mouth as if he were attempting to cage it. The tears had begun their careful descent down his face and I knew that there was no hope of erasing my actions and stopping the hurt that invaded both of our hearts. 

“Because I didn’t have any other choice, and because I think you wanted me to.” I said as confidently as I could manage. Part of me had known it since the start our friendship, but his reactions that night had sealed my intuition. But you should’ve known how he’d respond. This whole time, everything you’ve learned about him, you still knew. I had known, and I wouldn’t apologize now. I didn’t have the energy or the will to take anything back.

“You don’t know what I want.” He whimpered as he shook his head. Another lie. I could detect his lies as easily as I could identify my own now.

“Neither do you.” There was no sense in stopping this now. This was going to be a purging of consciences and hearts. 

“What do mean?” He stammered as he attempted to halt his tears. The frightened child still engulfed his eyes as he moved his hand away from his lips and wrapped his arms around his chest. 

“You are a brilliant social theorist Jade. You understand people and their interactions better than most people could ever hope to, but you don’t understand the first damn thing about yourself. You can’t see yourself at all.” The words tumbled tremulously from my lips and I could almost see the chips that they were making as they slammed into his fragile form. 

“And you think you see me?” He asked defensively as he pulled his arms tighter around his shivering chest like he was trying to disappear into himself. I could sense that I was backing him into a corner but he needed to be threatened. He needed to feel the full force of my words and my touch, and he needed to realize that I was completely his for the taking. 

“I think I see more than you admit to yourself.” I said softly. 

“I don’t know what you... what are you doing to us Davey?” He trailed off as he sniffed tiredly. His defense mechanisms were coming to a crumbling halt and these deflective questions were all he could muster. I wanted to take his diminishing form and hold him as tenderly as I could. I wanted to cauterize his wounds with my kisses. I wanted to heal him so completely that he’d never have to live in fear of his memories again. But I knew that it wasn’t my battle to fight. All I could offer was myself, and it was up to him to accept. 

“Just ask yourself why you kissed me back.” I said finally and I turned to walk away. I pulled myself through the heavy night, leaving Jade in my wake. As I trudged weakly down the street, I could hear his choked sobs and his own footsteps as he moved away in the other direction. I had no idea if I would ever see him again. Would my last memory of him be the image of a broken man, clutching his sides in self-hatred and horror? 

Jade’s POV:

The kiss had reawakened the dreams and pulled them viciously to the forefront of my mind. In a flood of numbing passion, I had moved against him as I quenched the obsession that had been bleeding me for months. The very taste of him set each of my nerves alight and I felt my body contort as I surrendered to him. He knew. He’s known. He knows. There was something close to peace then as his fingers slipped soothingly over my skin and our mouths clung sweetly to one another. 

”Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The door banged against the wall as it was flung open to reveal my father’s form in the doorway. Pushing the panting body off of me, I fell to my knees by the bed and begun the pleading. Hard, sharp footsteps fell on the wooden floor as he made his way over to me. Gripping my neck with one hand, he yanked me to my feet, and turned his wrath on the boy who sat trembling on my bed. 

“You better get the hell out of here boy. Lucky for you, this sinner is gonna take all the punishment this time but you better believe it will be more evenly dealt out if I catch you in here again.” As soon as the boy was gone from the room, the first blow fell. The first of many, jarring my teeth, spreading blood and bruises with each contact. Then there was just the stability of the floor and his cold voice.

“You know this is for your own good.”

“Yes sir.” I managed, spitting out blood with my words.

My eyes snapped open as the unwelcome vision played too perfectly through my mind. I could still feel the boy’s lips on mine. The same mouth that later filled with blood. I pushed hard, tearing my body away from the one that remained against mine. As I stepped back, I half-expected to see the face of the boy who’d been in my room that day. I expected to touch my jaw and find blood instead of traces of Davey’s caresses. But it was just the two of us under the eerie glow of the streetlight. Just Davey looking worn and weary, but mostly just sad. Just me, clutched in the grip of a memory while words passed between us. Brilliant social theorist... don’t understand the first damn thing about yourself... just ask yourself why you kissed me back. I gasped hard against the force of his words as he turned away and left me to my own destroyed mind. 

My feet directed me home as I clutched my own body in an attempt to contain the shards of heart, memories, and emotion that threatened to rip through my skin. It was a dizzying time, a collision of things that I’d tried to keep clear of for so many years. Had he been right? What does he see in me that I won’t open my eyes to? His lips had slid the dreams into reality but I still couldn’t make myself believe it. Confusion, lust, panic, horror, peace. They all battled within my body and I could hardly keep back the screams that were tearing through my blood. 

I wanted so badly to wipe my life clean and be able to focus on the simple question of “what do I want?”. 

* * *

My bed provided no rest and my apartment was just a map of recollection. Most of which had some mark of Davey on them. I paced the darkened rooms, running my fingers over my kiss-burned lips as I repeated the question. What do I want... what do I want.... what do I want?. Could I really push away everything and go to what I’d been denying myself for so long? Could I silence his voice long enough to feel at home in what my heart of hearts really desired?

“What do I want?” The question wasn’t necessary. I knew, I had known, I do know. What I want was so entangled in everything that I had forced myself to believe that I couldn’t have. The lesson had been beaten into my skin and I had reinforced it with my own scars. Could I push that away? I moved my hands absentmindedly over the rows of burns and cuts on my arms, feeling the rise and fall of the scars as the knot in my chest began to unravel into a sob. The revelation slammed into me as my body broke apart under the impact. 

You’re fucked up. You need help. Six revealing words. I coughed up sob after sob as I let my body and mind absorb it all. You know what you need. You know that you will not survive for much longer if you don’t go. I reached for my keys and headed for my car, doing my best to ignore the words that tried to pull me back. You don’t need anyone. You can take of yourself. Nothing is wrong with you. What Davey did was wrong. Deal with this on your own. You’re a grown man. I slammed the car door and gripped the steering wheel with tremulous fingers. 

Now is not the time for pride. 

CH22

Davey’s POV:

The ceiling swirled under my tired stare but sleep was not even in the realm of possibility. I felt completely drained. My body was just a shell for the turbulence of my mind. I had laid my heart on the line and watched as the guillotine had made it’s clean slice. Nothing else was to have been expected. 

I rolled over and watched the minutes on my clock tick by. It had seemed years ago that I had cursed a deceitful friendship with a kiss, but only two hours had passed. The Berkeley streets had come to a lull except for an occasional dog barking or a car door slamming. All around was silence and calm but I was unable to will any of that into my own body. Another car, another door slamming, and then footsteps on my porch. There was no jingling of keys or the familiar click as the door unlocked. Just footsteps, and then more quiet. I sat up, all of my senses ringing with adrenaline. The soft echo of steps repeated themselves across our porch as if the person was pacing. I slipped quickly from the bed and out into the hallway that faced the door. Looking through the dirty glass, I made out the form that I had least expected to see. I pulled the door open and stepped out onto the cool porch.

“Jade.” He turned quickly, keeping his head down and his eyes shaded. The sight of him standing humbly on my porch filled me with the most dangerous emotion: hope. I willed myself to recall the burn of his nails in my skin, the slow splintering of my ribs, and the excruciating disappointment he’d left me with tonight, but all that seeped into my mind was the deliciously complete sensation of his lips on mine. 

“Are you ok?” I asked tentatively. A nod would be a predictable lie, a shake would be a shock of first time honesty. He stood, hands clasped behind his back as his feet moved in some strange choreography of shame and nervousness. But other than this, he made no movement in recognition of my question. 

“Why don’t you come in?” I finally conceded, backing slowly to the door and holding it open for him. He shuffled in with his head still bowed to me. We walked to my room and both sat carefully on the edge of my bed. The tension hung like an ominous blade and neither of us cared to make the wrong move that would trigger its fall.

“I’m sorry to wake you.” He said formally as he examined his folded hands.

“You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep.” I replied gently. Please just drop this act Jade. You’re here for a reason, just talk to me. I wanted to shake him into speech but I could sense his delicacy and I could only imagine what it’d taken him to get himself here. So I just sat quietly in the stillness and waited.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, his voice quavering slightly. The uncertainty in his voice was a far reach from his normally understated but strangely confident tone. His voice now was cut through with humiliation, anxiety, and pleading. 

“It’s really ok Jade. You didn’t-”

“No. I mean, I’m sorry.” He inhaled deeply and pushed his hair from his face. In the low light I could see the effort that marked his face in concentration and the trembling of his lower lip which gave his fear away. I nodded, knowing that my voice would give away my own fear. 

“If I didn’t come here tonight... I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done.” He stuttered quietly.

“I just... I got to this point, and I just couldn’t breathe you know? Nothing was making sense. Nothing still makes any sense and...” He stopped, taken aback by his own admissions. His breathing hitched and he bit down on his lip as his eyes darted around the room. 

“And...?” I prompted softly. I wasn’t going to lose him now. Not when he was finally letting his heart do the speaking. 

“And I’m scared.” He whispered. The first reaction when someone says that they’re scared is to tell them that everything will be ok, but what do you say when you have no idea what things will turn out to be? I wanted to reach out and pull him into my arms, but I was scared of him pushing away. I wanted to whisper gentle promises of things being “fine”, but I was scared of telling more lies. We were both so seeped in fear.... how would we pull each other out of it?

“What are you scared of?” He let out an shakily ironic laugh as I asked the impossible question. 

“Everything.” I didn’t have an answer for that. I didn’t have an answer to any of this really. The hope that his presence and terrified honesty in his voice gave to me was staggering, and I could only pray that he would continue with this much needed cleansing. With his last word, he almost seemed lighter. His face still bore the mask of pain, but I could sense a change in his heart. He pushed back across the bed, leaning against the wall as he pulled his knees up to his chest. I followed his movements and settled near him, letting my shoulder touch against his. He didn’t pull away.

Jade’s POV:

Everything was sharper, more crisp. My words, the contrast of light and shadow, the resounding silences. It all stood out drastically as I forced the hidden truths out from behind my chattering teeth. It didn’t seem possible that I had pulled myself out of my apartment and into Davey’s room. I kept expecting my eyes to open and I would find myself in my lonely bed with only dream residue to keep me company.

But none of that happened. The room didn’t disintegrate, Davey didn’t move from my side, and my confessions kept filling the room. I felt almost as if I were outside of myself, viewing the scene from across the room. Part of me desperately wanted to hold onto the words and stuff them back into the folds of my mind. This was too frightening. My body was shaking too hard. My heart was rattling viciously and every scar on my body screamed that this was wrong. I was terrified of his reaction. I was horrified of what I’d do once I left here. I was so afraid of what he would say. 

But I couldn’t ignore the electricity that shivered down my spine when he had kissed me. I couldn’t ignore the fact that he had shown me more in a twenty second kiss then Des had shown me in two years. I couldn’t fucking deny the absolute completeness I felt with him. All I knew was that he was the only person I wanted to see. He was the only one who mattered anymore. 

“I’ve never done this before.” I said shakily as I stared at his comforter. 

“Done what?” His voice had been so painstakingly patient, and despite what was being said, it still felt as if we were tiptoeing around. 

“I don’t know... I’ve never done whatever ...this... is.” I said, gesturing between the two of us. 

“The kissing or the talking?”

“Um. The talking I suppose. I just don’t really tell people anything.”

“Why not?” Why not? Because I was repaid in beatings for every ounce of “true self” I ever dared to show. I shrugged and continued to memorize the thread count of his comforter.

“Jade, could you look at me?” It wasn’t a demand, just a small request. Just a tiny favor that took all of my resolve to grant. Turning my head, our gazes met over our shoulders. He drank me in with his eyes and I felt the familiar shiver sweep over my body. 

“Why did you come here?” He asked simply, holding my gaze as my heart dropped into my gut. 

“Do you want me to leave? I’ll go. I’m sorry-” I said urgently as I started up from the bed. Oh god oh god oh god. This was a mistake. Just like everything you do, one big fucking mistake...

“Jade, stop. That’s not why I asked.” His hand landed firmly on my shoulder as he spoke quickly. 

“Please don’t go. I just want to know what made you decide to come here.” He implored as I sat back down. Because there’s a possibility that I’m falling in love with you. I bit down on my lip to quiet the thought and dropped my eyes from his. My hands had taken up the trembling of my heart and I folded them tightly in my lap. 

“Did you mean it earlier? When you...when you kissed me?” I finally whispered. 

“God Jade... of course.” His voice shook with incredulous relief. 

“Then that’s why I came back. Because it was real. Because it wasn’t just another wasted lie of a moment.”

CH23

Davey’s POV:

We sat in that brimming silence for an extended moment. I was too terrified to even breathe. I felt that if I had moved, he would have disappeared, his words would’ve swirled into one of my countless fantasies, and I would’ve woken up alone again. 

“Jesus Davey... say something.” His nervous whisper was tinged with a desperate laugh as he pulled his legs tighter against his chest. I looked at him then. His body pulled in on itself in the aching moonlight, that pleading look that I’d seen in his eyes far too many times, that lustful fear that was ripping into him at that very moment, and tears leapt to my eyes at the very thought of what this must be doing to him. 

“Thank you.” I murmured as I leaned my head against his shoulder. I could feel a sigh tremble through him as he hesitantly laid his cheek upon my hair. 

“For what?”

“For coming here. I was so afraid...” I let my voice drop off and focused instead on the rise and fall of his chest. 

“You were afraid? But... I mean, you kissed me and then you walked away. I’ve never seen anything more brave in my life.” His whispers were questioning and slightly embarrassed. I grimaced at his words. You walked away. 

“If I hadn’t been so terrified, I would’ve stayed with you. I ran. Nothing brave about that.” My words were muffled by his shirt as I turned to bury my shamed face against his shoulder. I had the sudden urge to hide myself in him, to thread myself between his ribs, and slip through his veins.

“Maybe,” he mused softly, “but maybe it doesn’t matter, because we’re here now.” 

One second, I had been cradling his dangerously fragile spirit, and the next he was supporting me as I crumbled under the weight of my own shame and fervor. The tables hadn’t turned. They had splintered apart entirely as the roles of “protector” and “victim” passed fluidly between us. The realization that we needed each other with equal force seeped into our skin as we sat precariously on the edge of next inevitable question.

“So, um... what do we do now?” I raised my head and studied his eyes. He bit his lip as if wishing he hadn’t asked the question. What do we do now? Do we “date”? Go steady as if we were in some bad 1950s TV show? I knew what I would’ve done if this had been any other man but Jade. It was so easy with them because there hadn’t been any words, any actual feelings (aside from lust) to convey. There had just been sex, a “thanks a lot”, and no reason to return phone calls. 

“I- I don’t know.” I stuttered quietly and again we were plunged into a short silence as the immensity of the unknown crept around us. 

“What are you thinking?” He prodded as he toyed with the cuffs of his pants. 

“Too many things to count or understand.” He nodded at my answer before yawning.

“I wish this were easier.” He mumbled through his yawn.

“Maybe it can be.” I said in the middle of my own yawn. The day and night, weeks and months had come crashing down on me, but I couldn’t have been more elated to feel the ruins around me. 

“I should let you get some rest.” He said as he stretched his legs to get up. 

“Jade, um...” You almost lost him once tonight, don’t let him go again. “Would you like to sleep here, with me I mean?” I asked shyly, ducking my head slightly to hide the blush that played across my cheeks. 

“Oh. I... um. I don’t...”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I said quickly. “Just sleep, nothing else.” 

Gentle understanding crept over his face and into his eyes as he considered my proposition

“Um, would that be ok?” A smile like I hadn’t felt in ages sprung on my face as he spoke and I nodded excitedly.

“Of course it’s ok. I wouldn’t have asked you if it weren’t ok.” The most beautifully shy smile graced his lips as he slipped his shoes off and looked at me timidly. 

“I can lend you some pajamas, or t shirt or something.” I continued, feeling suddenly giddy and light, all other emotion and warning having been drained from my body.

“No, it’s ok. I can just sleep in this.” He said as he curled up against the wall and continued to watch me. His lips twitched between a frown and a grin while his eyes pooled in a darkness of turmoil. You’re right, I wish this could be easier. I wish you could be easier to read, I wish I could know what I’m supposed to do.

“Are you sure? You might get warm in that.” I said, taking note of his long sleeves.

“I’m ok. Really.” He stated a little more firmly as I crawled up next to him, pulling the comforter over us as I went. We finally settled facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s warmth without actually touching. Several minutes passed, punctuated only by our intermittent yawns.

“Jade?” I whispered carefully.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about Trent. I didn’t know what I was doing.” There was a long pause in which not even a breath marked the air.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, ok? I think we’ve had enough for tonight.” His voice was languidly exhausted and I was grateful for his answer. I felt a slight shift as his hand reached out under the cover to find my own. My breath hitched in my throat as our fingers tested each other, completed that hesitant dance before linking together, and in the dark, I could sense the smile that finally settled on his lips. 

CH24

ade’s POV:

The night had shattered into seemingly disassociated segments but as I linked my fingers with Davey’s, all of the other shards blew away and I was left with just that moment. We were just two bodies, breathing and touching, our fingers stroking across the backs of our hands. We were just two people, battling odds and pasts and presents, and I was surrendering. 

* * *

The unwelcome morning burst through the blinds and I pried open my tired eyes. Somehow in the night, we had gravitated towards each other and I now found Davey curled up and pressed to my side, his head resting on my shoulder. Oh Jade, what are you doing? I swallowed tightly as I glanced down at his small form that was curled so happily against my own. I felt the too typical threats rise in my body, and the need to push him to the floor and run almost overcame me. But he stirred and opened those eyes that had ensnared me at our first meeting. He didn’t immediately look up, but rather nuzzled his cheek against my shoulder and pressed a bit closer to me before stretching out. He rolled onto his stomach and propped himself onto his elbows so that he was looking at me dead on.

“G’morning.” He murmured, a precious bedroom-eyes grin spreading over his face. “Morning.” I said, an undeniable smile capturing my lips as I remembered the way his thumb had traced gentle circles over my skin. The sickness and panic had subsided and again, I was left with just this too perfect moment with him.

“Sleep well?”

“Mmmhhmm. Is it always this bright in here in the mornings though?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately.” He grumbled.

“We’re sleeping at my place from now on then.” I said and became immediately surprised at the effortlessness of the statement. It seemed that I wasn’t alone in my shock.

‘So... there will be other times when I get to wake up with you?” He asked timidly. I couldn’t do anything for a moment other than stare at him in the pure morning light. Smudges of eyeliner softened the sharpness of his eyes and he had taken his lower lip into his mouth to bite on it nervously. The tender pride and cautious defensiveness that his years had afforded him accumulated in the vibrancy of his body. 

And then, like the intuition that finally gets fed up and strangles you, I realized that he was the only one with whom I could fathom waking up. 

“I hope so. If you want it.” He released his lip from his teeth as he smiled.

“Of course I want it.” Neither of us moved, the uncertainty that had governed our friendship continued to prevail as we watched each other. Teach me Davey. Tell me what to do. I was looking for a revelation. What I got was a breakfast offer.

“Oh, I’m not really hungry.” I mumbled, suddenly shy as I took in the full meaning of our “waking up” conversation.

“Nothing? I could make us some tea?” He was fiddling too, stretching the rumpled sheets between his fingers.

“Tea would be nice.” He smiled again and rolled off the bed before padding over to the door.

“Going to join me?” He asked as he pulled the door open. 

“Give me a second to actually wake up.” I replied as I stretched lazily. He nodded, the smile never once faltering from his gorgeous mouth. As soon as the door clicked shut, unexpected tears flooded my eyes as I pressed my hands to my face. This was more turmoil than a body could handle. The highs and lows that I’d been pulled through in the past twelve hours were all suddenly digging their way into my chest as I clenched my jaw against the threatening sobs. The ecstatic jolt that had surged through me last night when I had simply held his hand was enough to keep me here. But I couldn’t ignore the hatred I felt when he was touching me. No, not hatred of him. Never of him. Hatred of myself, hatred of what we were. Hatred of the instinctive reaction of “this is wrong.” 

With a shuddering breath, I pushed myself up and crawled clumsily off of the bed. I moved in front of his mirror and sighed at my reflection. Rubbing the tear-streaks away viciously, I shook the hair from my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew that in the kitchen, a boy was standing at the stove watching the kettle and wondering where the hell I was. I could picture him leaning against the counter, his fingers toying with the drawstring of his pajama pants while the sunlight illuminated his anxious form. I knew that he was holding countless questions on his tongue. I knew he’d swallow them down if I asked him to. 

Will you have to ask that of him? Will you be that much of a coward?

Davey’s POV:

I dropped the bags of jasmine green tea into the mugs and placed them on the counter as I waited. I did my best to harness all of my patience, but I still fidgeted. Just the fact that he spent the night gave me more hope than I had expected, and it made me nervous. I knew full well that he was capable of crushing me if he were to leave. And I also knew full well that him leaving was a damn good possibility. I ran my fingers over my wrists, recalling the half-moon scabs that had marked his rage and knew that that might not be the last time I’d be left bleeding because of him either.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice came unexpectedly and I pulled my hand away from my wrist.

“Nothing.” I said automatically. Had he seen? Does he feel guilty now? Does he even fully remember? “Um, here’s the tea.” 

“Thanks.” He cupped his hands around the mug and blew gently at the steam.

“Jade...” He raised his eyes, and I couldn’t think of how to proceed. The words crowded themselves inside my mouth, and I just shook my head.

“Nevermind.”

“No, c’mon. Tell me.” He set his mug down and leaned against the edge of the stove. 

“I don’t know what I was going to say.” I half-lied as I set my own mug down and looked down at my bare feet on the linoleum. 

“Liar.” He stated. “You knew what you wanted to say. You just didn’t know which words to choose.” He voice wasn’t accusatory, just factual. He walked over and leaned back against the counter next to me.

“How do you know?” I mumbled as I flexed my toes against the cool floor. I could sense him shrug and look down at his own bare feet. 

“Call it feminine intuition.” I grinned and nudged his foot with my own. 

“Very funny.”

“That’s as good as I can do at this hour.” He replied as slid the side of his foot against my own. 

“But really,” He said after a short lull, “what did you want to say?” 

“That our feet compliment each other very well.” 

“Harty fucking har.” Now it was my turn to shrug. I hooked my foot around his ankle and leaned my hip against his without looking up from the floor. How could I explain that idea that our feet complimented each other was the perfect analogy to how I felt for him overall?

“I really don’t know. I mean, I do know. I just don’t know where to start.” I finally said.

“Neither do I.” He whispered back. We stood like that for a long time, both of us looking down at our intertwined feet and the sun-scattered floor. I eventually unhooked my foot from his ankle, but kept my hip pressed against his.

“My kneecap was threatening to pop off.”

“Heh, sorry.”

“Not your fault.” I rested my head against his shoulder again. His cheek fell against the top of my head again. The air seemed to warm around us and I could sense the slow melting of his defenses that I had witnessed last night. I gently brushed the back of my hand over his before loosely threading my fingers between his. 

“The tea is getting cold.” He murmured into my hair.

“Do you really care?”

“Well I really had my heart set on it. I guess I could bring myself to settle for luke warm tea.” He said melodramatically.

“You’re such an ass.” I replied as I squeezed his hand. He squeezed back and grinned. 

“It’s why you adore me. Admit it.” I took a step forward and pivoted slowly to face him without releasing his hand. 

“Yeah, I can never resist an ass.” I winked and stepped closer to him. He smiled, but behind the smile I read the flash of nervousness that crossed over his face. 

“I’m going to kiss you, unless you tell me otherwise. And that would be ok., for you tell me to stop I mean.” I assured him, and to my surprise, it was ok. I didn’t want to do anything that would frighten him off. Despite the joking and bravado of sorts, he was trembling. I took his other hand in mine and looked up into his face that seemed to be dancing between beautiful excitement, and painful repression. But he said nothing.

The kiss wasn’t like the first one. That had been more of a statement, more to prove a point. This was calm and languid, our lips barely clinging to each other as we navigated the perfect awkwardness of figuring out the kiss of a new lover. Maybe we didn’t have to “start” anywhere. Maybe it just “is”.

We pulled away slowly, both of us savoring the intimate taste of the other. I wanted to look into his eyes, to hope that what I felt was mirrored in his eyes, but fear made me drop my head. He pressed a kiss to my forehead as I ran the arch of my foot over his instep. The shivers that the kiss had sent up my spine left content tingles over my skin, but I couldn’t shake the dread that I’d find hatred and horror if I looked into his eyes. I didn’t want fear to dictate this, to dictate us, but I couldn’t help but feel like it already had too firm of a grasp on us. 

CH25

Jade’s POV:

“... and as a staff member you’ll have access to all the facilities and services. Dining, medical, counseling and psychiatric, gym, etc. Sound good?”

“Very.” I smiled at Professor Lieberman as I finished up the required paperwork and passed the stack back to him. 

“Excellent. I have to say Jade, I’m so pleased that you agreed. You have a promising mind and I’m more than happy to have as one of my minions.” The elderly man’s eyes twinkled as he grinned. 

“It’s a pleasure.”

“Well, we’ll see about that. You may want to jam every book in the library down my throat before long. Come back on Monday and I’ll have your first mission, so to speak, ready for you.” We shook hands and I left, a newly appointed member of Berkeley staff. I moved through the Saturday afternoon crowds as I made my way towards Davey’s work place; one of Berkeley’s countless vintage-chic stores. Upon arriving, I leaned against the doorway and watched him talk a mousy looking girl into buying an outrageous monstrosity of a hat. He leaned in, arranging carefully on her head, and finished up by giving her that irresistibly charming smile that sealed the deal without a doubt. Even when doing something as dull as selling a hat, Davey was entrancing. The way he moved, his mannerisms, his comforting and welcoming voice (which I’m sure was a key part of sales pitching ability) were so obsession-worthy. The girl passed me, blushing slightly and clutching her new purchase and I continued to watch him from the door frame. 

It had been 23 days since he had kissed me in the kitchen on that pivotal morning. 23 days of hand holding, cautious kisses, and sleeping near each other. 23 tentative days of “maybe this could work”. 23 days of being afraid that neither of us were what the other expected or needed. But so far it was 23 days of proof that perhaps we could be exactly what the other needed. 

He looked up and caught my eye, grinning slyly as he slid out from behind the counter. 

“Hey.” He said softly as he approached me.

“Hey.” I studied his face in the purposefully bright light of the store. Eagerness, contentment, flashes of uncertainty. 

“What are you doing down here?” He finally asked.

“I had a meeting with Lieberman. Just thought I’d stop by and see what a working girl like you does all day.”

“Well this working girl doesn’t get off for another three hours. But I could come by your place after. If you’d like me to that is.”

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Good.” His eye crinkles fanned out as he smiled. Before he returned to his post behind the register, his hands slipped over my hips and his lips caressed my cheek briefly. My reaction was automatic. A quick step back and hurried shake of my head. It wasn’t a major action, but it was enough to elicit a frustrated and hurt look from him. I felt like I had just kicked a puppy.

“I’ll see you tonight. Hope the rest of your hours go quickly.” I mumbled quietly as I turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the doorway. 

What the fuck is wrong with you? You practically begged Des to let you kiss her in public but he kisses your cheek and you move away? Is it conditioning from Des? Did she teach you that was wrong? The questions tumbled around my mind as I walked automatically towards my apartment. It was warm out, somewhere in the 80s, but I pulled my sweater cuffs further over my hands anyway. 

Quit being a blind fool Jade. Don’t blame Des. She’s not the reason you recoil from him in public. She’s not the reason you have to wear long sleeves constantly, even in the midst of a California summer. You’re thinking yourself in goddamn circles.

I looked up to find myself at the door of my apartment building and my thoughts were interrupted by my search for my keys. I let myself in and leaned against the door.

23 days. 23 days of me ignoring what eventually had to be discussed. 23 days of avoidance. 

Davey’s POV:

I watched the crowd swallow him up as he moved away. If we had been curled upon his couch or standing at my door, he wouldn’t have flinched like he had. The first couple of times we had kissed, he would pull away suddenly or he would go silent for awhile after we both pulled back. But even that tendency seemed to disintegrate as we grew slightly more accustomed to the idea of an “us”, if there could be such a thing. 

“Davey!” I started at the sharp admonition from my manager and I returned to the counter to pseudo-smile at all our customers. 

* * *

By the time I left the store that evening, I was shaking with frustration. I’d wanted Jade since the day I had met him, all those months ago. And now, well now I was fucking in love with him wasn’t I? As such, I needed more of him. The slow kisses couldn’t satiate my ache for him anymore. I was too aware of what was keeping him from giving more of himself and I despised myself for my impatience, but I couldn’t help but crave him. And not just sexually. I wanted more of his past, more of his heart, more of his mind. 

I knocked sharply and listened for the quick footsteps. He pulled it open and smiled openly at me.

“Hello gorgeous.” He murmured comfortably as I came inside. This was the Jade that I had foolishly let myself grow used to. Inside walls, hidden from all eyes but our own. He was safe in here. 

“Hi.” I replied, more coldly than I would’ve liked. He frowned slightly and followed me over to the couch. 

“How was the rest of work?” I let him reach for my hand as he settled next to me, but I kept my gaze straight ahead.

“Hellish, actually.”

“What happened?” He drew his legs up underneath him and leaned his head on my shoulder. I still didn’t move. What are you doing? Is this punishment, revenge? Just enjoy this. Just let him be. But I couldn’t. My pride had been hurt and this was indeed punishment, no matter how asinine. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking.”

“About?”

“You.” The silence that followed was solid and I felt him freeze up.

“You couldn’t stop thinking about me. And that was hellish.” He repeated slowly, trying to extract a meaning from my harsh words. I could already feel the guilt well up behind my damned pride, but I wouldn’t relent now. He would hear this.

“Yes. Why did you pull away today?”. A sound somewhere between a sign and growl jumped from his lips as he uncoiled himself and stood up. He walked to the kitchen nook and didn’t answer.

“Are you ashamed of me? Just want to tease me? Why did you do it?”. I called to him. There was muffled sound like a swallowed sob before he replied.

“I don’t know.” His voice was dull.

“Yes you do.” More silence. 

“Yes I do.” Finally. 

“Well, do you plan on telling me?” He paced back into the living room and stood before me, fidgeting with rings. 

“You’re so comfortable with it. It’s so easy for you. It’s not that way for me ok?” The words were chopped and missing his normally natural eloquence and fluidity. 

“Could you be a little more vague please?”

“No sarcasm. Not now Davey.” He sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples. 

“Sorry.” I mumbled, hating my childishness. Another sigh, and he was back at my side on the couch.

“I’m not sure how to deal with this all right? What I know is that I want you. I know that I’m more myself around you than I am with anyone else. Call it cliched, but that’s all I can lump into my very small “truism” category. Everything outside of that is unclear. It all scares me.”

“What scares you?”

“What people think.”

“People Jade? C’mon, you make your living off of what people think. Why does it scare you?” My bitterness was gagging me now. I had to stop. I wanted to take away the fear that was making his voice break. But I also wanted him to know what this was doing to me.

“This is different.”

“How?” I practically shouted, my nails digging into the worn fabric on the couch.

“Fine. I’m scared of what I think ok? I’m scared because I know what I’m capable of doing to you. I’m scared because you’ve already lived through it and I can’t figure out why you’re here with me now. I’m scared of what other people may do. Of what they have done already. What if someone had seen you kiss me at the store today? What if they had followed me home? What if they waited for you and wanted to hurt you? And I’m scared because you’re not scared enough.” He sank back on the couch and I let his words and defeated tone echo in my mind. Fuck. You are such a dense idiot from time to time. I sighed and sank back next to him. His body was slouched over, drained from his admissions. 

“I wish I could tell you that you don’t have to worry about those things. But the truth is that they’re all very real possibilities. What you have to figure out is whether or not I’m worth it.” My own lucidity surprised me and the bitter vengefulness of earlier faded away as I touched his back. He looked so small then, as if he were just skin wrapped around suffering. 

“You are.” Came his muffled response.

“You don’t have to decide right now.” I hushed as I moved my hand in soothing circles over his back. 

“I want you to be worth it. Am I worth it to you?” He turned his head and looked at me sideways. I nodded. It wasn’t even really a question that needed to be asked

“Even though I ask for your constant patience? Even though I frustrate you? And don’t pretend that I don’t. You don’t hide it as well as you think. Even though I’ve hurt you?”

“We’ve both hurt each other. But yes, you’re worth it.”

“Even though I can be a complete fucktard?” He asked innocently. I bent over and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Yes, even though you can be a complete fucktard. But you’re a hot fucktard so it doesn’t matter too much.”

“Hey, not like you’re completely guilt free in the fucktard category.” He countered as he sat up and stretched like a contented house cat. 

“I never said that I wasn’t.” He smiled at my response and walked back into the kitchen.

“Want something to drink.”

“What do you have?” I called back.

“Um. Water.” He replied sheepishly.

“Sounds good.” I grinned as he walked back in with two glasses. He settled back down next to me and flicked on the television as if our conversation had never taken place. The emotion of just a few moments ago slide from him too easily. As I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him against my chest, I could feel the frustration start to rise again. He just accepted it. He took my answers, my “punishment”, and dealt with it and at the end, we patched it up with a cute joke or some teasing like some sitcom. When was this all going to come down? When would we have the courage to let each other in? 

CH26

Jade’s POV:

We eventually adjourned to my bed, and I curled my body around his. It was familiar, most likely after spending countless nights with Des in the same bed and the same position. His back was pressed to my chest, one of his hands resting on my forearm, the slow rise and fall of his chest signaling sleep. This cocoon of safety was my grounding point. I needed these moments of silence when I could just breathe with him. It was here that I could understand on some base level what I was doing. Stripped away, we were just two people who wanted to be with each other. Without that distillation, I was a haunted man unable to crawl from the shadows of a father’s threats, and Davey was a naive boy who was most likely laboring under the disillusion that he could “save” me. But now, in this hollowed out sanctuary, I could close off the part of me that sent screaming nausea through my body whenever he touched me. I could close off the memories and forget the scars.

I felt his body tighten suddenly beneath my arms and my name rushed from his lips like a breath.

“Jade” He shifted back against me and pulled my arm more securely about his body. I grinned against his neck at the whispering of my name and thought that I could live just for that sound. 

“What is it?” There was a pause as collected himself from his abrupt awakening.

“I need to ask you a question.” There was a twist of nervousness in my stomach but I nodded and said

“OK.”

“Do you see your father often?”. I froze. Why would he want to know that?

“Once a year.” I replied standardly. There was another pause and he hooked his fingers around my arm as if he was anchoring himself.

“When?”

“On an anniversary.” I said, trying to hide behind my vague answers. 

“Of what?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” He was shattering the safety. He will kill us Davey. You don’t know now but you will. Let it rest. This doesn’t have to be part of us.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying about anything.” He gave an aggravated sigh but made no movement to free himself from my embrace. 

“I know about your father Jade. Des told me. I know he’s dead.” The words came quickly and unexpectedly. I lay still, unable to respond. There was nothing I could say to that. Dead. Yes, he was dead. I knew that logically. But he had never truly died for me. Not the way I had wanted him to at least. I wanted him to take all of his words and beatings with him into the greatest depths of horror that hell could conjure up. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you... I just, I wanted to know. I wanted you to tell me something. Something real I guess.” He whispered in defeat. Something real. What was real with us? I desperately clawed at the layers that had begun to asphyxiate me. I needed to get back to that safety. I need to close off the pain and focus on what beauty I could find. Tears forced themselves to the corners of my eyes as the slow drowning sensation continued to edge over my body. The tears weren’t for him. I would never let him have the satisfaction. These were for my inability to talk to Davey. To give him even the smallest of requests. He just wanted to hear something real.

“Could you tell me how he died?” He still whispered, clutching my arm as if he were afraid I would leave. And he has every right to think that you would.

“Heart attack.” I could answer these factual questions. These were easy. They had a right and wrong answer. 

“Oh...” His voice dropped off.

“What, did you think I killed him or something?” I half scoffed. He didn’t answer. 

“You really thought that didn’t you?” I asked softly. He rolled onto his back and I let my hand rest on his heart. What is the appropriate reaction when someone thinks that you killed your father?

“Not in all sincerity.” He answered while staring at the ceiling. The occasional flash of a car’s headlights illuminated his face through the cut of the venetian blinds. 

“But you entertained the notion.”

“Did you ever entertain the notion?”. Something real something real something real.

“Yes.” I felt his chest jump beneath my hand, obviously shocked at my answer to a question that I’m sure he didn’t mean to ask.

“Yes, I thought about killing him nearly everyday. It was such a relief when he finally decided to rid the world of his presence on his own.” I inhaled quickly, expecting the rush of guilt, hatred, pain... take your pick. But nothing came. Just the solid rhythm of Davey’s heart beneath my hand and my own even breaths.

“How can you talk about it so calmly?” He finally asked. 

“I don’t know.” I said automatically. I didn’t know. Or I didn’t want to know. Either way there was no answer.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you had to live with that.”

“It’s ok.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Maybe not. But it’s over now.”

“Is it?” Our rapid verbal exchange almost seemed rehearsed, but here had me stumped. It wasn’t over, and we both knew that. It wasn’t over because I could still hear his voice. I could still recall each bruise and curse. It wasn’t over because part of me still believed that I deserved punishment for wanting Davey. 

I just shrugged and moved my fingertips over his chest in small spirals. He caught my hand with his and turned his head to look at me. I held his gaze while I caressed the raised lines of his scars. He had stopped wearing gloves or other hand coverings around me.

“I’m glad that you don’t hide these from me.” I said, anxious to change the subject, as I ran my index finger over the crosses. He bit on his lower lip, sucking his lip ring into his mouth. I recognized the action as a precursor to him saying something that I might not like. It was like a nervous tick.

“What?” I asked quietly. He inhaled slowly as if he were steadying his courage.

“Why do you hide yours from me?”. The coldness of earlier flicked back into my blood as I stared at him.

“I don’t have any scars.” Automatic reaction like all my other denial responses. 

“Please don’t lie to me anymore Jade. I can’t bear it.” The fatigued sorrow of his voice seeped through my skin and into my very nervous system. It hurt me more than I ever expected a tone could hurt. Something real. With slow movements, I sat up and removed my hand from his. I knelt, facing him, and extended my left arm, palm up. The cuff of my sweater raised enough to reveal the strip of black fabric that was tied tightly around my thin wrist. 

“Something real.” I murmured.

Davey’s POV:

I pushed myself up to a kneeling position so that I faced him. He wore an expression of determination that was cracking through to reveal the urge to yank his hand away. I took his palm between my hands and felt the expected tremble of his hand. 

“You don’t have to do this for me.” I said. 

“I want to. You deserve to know.” He said. His words were final and irrefutable but sad. I just nodded and focused my attention on the offered limb in front of me, trying to not over-think the situation. It’s just time.

I slid my fingers over his hand and took the ends of the fabric between my fingers. The knot fell apart easily and I pulled the cloth away. The rows of burns, placed so painstakingly perfectly, encircled his wrist. The first twinge of sorrow pinched my heart as I hovered my fingers over the burns. I caught his eye and he nodded. With the utmost care, I whispered my fingertips over the burns, imagining the hate and hurt that had created them. I heard him sigh and I glanced back up to find his eyes closed and his lips parted. 

“How did you know?” He breathed, keeping his eyes shut. 

“No one can withstand this much pain without it leaving its mark.” I replied softly. Soft, gentle, tender. This is what it needs to be. This is what you both need. I raised his bared wrist to my lips and ghosted kisses over the damaged flesh. 

“This isn’t all of them, is it?” I murmured against his skin as he cupped my cheek in his hand. Raising my head, he locked his eyes on mine. Searching it seemed, maybe for a reason for him to not trust me, some reason to pull back and conveniently “forget” about this. He shook his head in response to my question and gingerly pulled his hand back from my face. 

“Tell me where.” I whispered. As if entranced, he ran his fingers up the insides of arms, over his lower abdomen, down his thighs. I reached down and grasped his hands when they finished their journey, bringing them up to my lips. His eyes closed again and he leaned his forehead against our clasped hands. 

“Will you show me?”. A few beats of our hearts passed, but then without raising his head, he took my hands and placed them on the hem of his sweater. I swallowed and pressed a kiss to his forehead and nuzzled my cheek against his hair. My fingers slipped beneath the warm fabric and touched on warmer skin. He gave a shuddering sigh and dropped his head to my shoulder. Carefully, just as all my other touches had been, I pulled the garment over his torso. When I got to his arms, he sat back and raised them obligingly as I slipped it over his head and threw it to the floor. 

Even in the dim light, I could see the multitudes of injuries that crossed his skin and I couldn’t hold back the heart-twisted “oh” that fluttered to my lips. He sat back, his hands lowered to his lap, his head turned so it was masked by hair and shadow. The skin of his inner arms seemed to be caged by rows of thin scars, and I could make out at least three longer cuts stretching over his lower abdomen. In an instant, I remembered the towel I had spread over my lap the afternoon he had attacked me. I could picture him too clearly now; taking a blade to his skin, cursing himself, clutching the towel to the wound, thinking that he deserved no better than the sting of a blade and the temporary relief of blood. No, no. I had to make him see... I would take this away... worth so much more. Even my thoughts were incoherent, language having abandoned me the minute he had willing given this part of himself to me. 

“Davey...” I snapped my head up, hardly realizing that my gaze had stuck on a particularly new cut. When I looked up now, he had turned towards me and the stripped light revealed rapidly falling tears and a trembling lower lip that he fought to control. 

“Oh Jade... shhh, I’m here.” I struggled for anything, any words that would help to put him even remotely at ease. Tenderly, I wrapped my right arm around his waist and brushed the hair from his face with my left hand. Beneath my ribs, my heart pounded savagely as I silently cursed the people and ideals responsible for forcing such a beautiful soul into believing he deserved such castigation. 

“I.. I need... I mean, I want... could you...” He finally relented and sobs crashed through his body, breaking up his words. 

“Anything. Just tell me.” I whispered, holding him close against my chest. His hands gripped my shoulders as his frail body trembled in my arms. 

“Help... me. Heal me. Please, anything.” A new desperation slipped in between the tears and at that moment, I would’ve given absolutely anything to see his body rid of the pain he’d inflicted upon it. But I didn’t know how or what to give. 

“Tell me how. Tell me what you need and I will give it. I promise.” I moved my other hand to his back and started caressing his spine. He shivered, whether because of my touch or the sobs I couldn’t be sure. 

“I’m not sure.... no-” His voice broke off as he reformulated his answer.

“I need you.” If my heart could have simultaneously swelled and broken, that was the moment it would’ve occurred in. My own tears rushed to my eyes as I held him to me, unable to stop touching his skin. His arms encircled my neck and drew me towards his lips. I parted my lips for him as we kissed in a passionate mixture of relief, sorrow, and need. The kiss deepened, an intensity washed over us as we fed off each other in desperation to prove ourselves. The air hummed with the shattering of pride, the breaking and rebuilding of hearts, the tenderness of touch. Lust was not a factor and the “want” was converted to “need” as he pulled me down to lie next to him. I had to gasp against the sudden force of the kiss. The room seemed to blur and vibrate as the overwhelming reality of what was happening rolled over me. 

“Are you scared of this?” He asked, gesturing to his body as we broke apart. I could only shake my head as I looked upon his beautifully broken form. 

“If you don’t want me anymore, I understand. You just... you said you wanted something real.” He stuttered quietly and shrugged, a sudden nervousness hinging against his voice. 

“Oh god Jade, that’s not it at all.” I whimpered. How could I make him see, how could I heal him?

“What is it then?” He lay still, looking up at me with an expression that told me he would take whatever I had to say, and that tore at me more than anything. It was this very willingness to believe what people had to say about him that had scarred him. 

“There aren’t words...” I traced my fingertip down his jaw line and over his full lips. Leaning down, I let my lips linger against his as I whispered,

“Just let me touch you.” 

CH27

Jade’s POV:

I had been so certain that once he had seen me riddled with such ugly hate, he would leave. I could feel the poison creeping to the surface, drawn out by his caresses. I wanted to warn him, tear his touch from my body. Couldn’t he feel the toxins seeping into his hands?

“Davey.” My voice was a gasped whisper, barely audible against the thudding of my heart. He looked up from my neck where he had been administering gentle kisses. 

“What’s wrong?” He moved back to lay against me, searching my face with tender concern written in features. 

“Too fast? Should I stop?” Stop? My body rejected that idea immediately, and my hands fluttered over his face. How exactly am I supposed to say this? “Part of my conscience is comprised of the insane ramblings of a hate-consumed man and I’m worried that he’s going to get into you too”? Yeah, that’ll work. Dammit Davey, why do I have to crave you so insatiably? He supported his weight on one elbow, and with his free hand, he swept my hair from my face to kiss my forehead.

“I’m sorry.” I trembled. It was the only thing that made sense to say.

“For what?” He whispered against my forehead, his fingers traversing the side of my cheek. I shrugged and pressed my hand to his, only realizing then that I was crying. 

“Do you want me to stop Jade?” He asked earnestly, pulling back so that I could see his eyes. Those eyes that held so much of what I had always felt was possible, but had never found before. What would it mean to turn away now?. He lay still, his right hand on my cheek, his eyes burning into mine as he awaited my answer. What do you want Jade? It’s time, you can’t play this either/or game anymore. What do you fucking want?. An eternity passed. A second. Then finally, it came to me. 

“No.” He smiled and nodded at my answer, moving his lips down to mine in a slight caress of a kiss. 

“You’ll tell me if you don’t want this anymore right?” He murmured into my mouth. Now it was my turn to nod as I willed myself to slip under the trance of his touches. His fingers were feather light as they traveled over my scar-weary arms. I shut my eyes, closing off everything but the warmth of his hands and the rhythm of his breathing. He shifted and I felt his leg slide over my lower body as he moved to kneel over me. Spreading his hands out on my collar bone, he moved them down over my arms as if he were reading my scars like braille. Occasionally his fingers would pause on one, feeling the length of it while sighing carefully. 

“This one is new.” His voice was crushed, and his fingers hovered over a fresh cut just beneath the underside of my elbow. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know which one he was talking about. I could feel the sting resonate through my body as he drew a cautious fingertip over it. I’d placed it there this afternoon after I had seen him at the store. The disappointment in his eyes had seared me and the slow scratch of a blade was the only way I knew how to deal with it. He had despised me in that moment, so I had to despise myself. 

“Was it because of me?” He continued quietly, stroking the skin between scars. I nodded again. Holding things back now would’ve been futile. I knew he could see my lies.

“Because of what happened at the store?” Another nod. Another silence. His hands flickered over the cut as if contemplating it. And then there was the unmistakable sound of the starting of tears. 

“Oh god Jade... don’t do this because of me. Never for me.” My name was a whispered plea on his tongue and I turned my face away, raising my hands to cover it. 

“You don’t deserve this. Any of this.” The desperation in his voice reached a new level and I cradled my head in my hands, my shame too great now to face him. You’re the one who doesn’t deserve this Davey. You don’t deserve a curse like me. His hands rose to my shoulders and he lowered his body to place rapid kisses to the backs of my hands.

“Why are you with me?” I whimpered into my hands. I could feel his own tears wetting my hands before he shifted to slide his arms under my shoulders. 

“Because I’m happiest with you.” He offered. I choked out a scoff before replying

“Even now? Even like this?”

“Yes.” He said calmly through his tears and he sat up, pulling me with him. His arms encircled me, rocking me gently against his body. My fingers reached out to clutch the fabric of his shirt as I pulled myself closer to him. This is what you want. This is what you need. This close to him, even the voice that normally racked me, scarred me, suffocated me, was soothed. 

Davey’s POV:

Curled in my arms, he looked so young and small. His forehead was pressed to breast bone and his fingers clung to my shirt as he tried to navigate the situation. I found myself rocking him softly, pulling my arms tighter around his shoulders as I laid my cheek down upon the top of his head. I could feel his breath slow and steady as my own tears abated. The notion that he bled for me, because of something he had seen in my eyes, added more ache to my already breaking heart. His frailty cracked my heart, his beauty and his defenses crippled it. 

His fingers finally relaxed and I felt his arms slide around my waist, holding me hesitantly. I trailed my fingers up his neck and cupped his cheeks, tilting his head back gently. In his eyes were the remnants of the earlier shame mixed with the possible glow of affection. Contracting slightly, I dropped my lips to his face, brushing light kisses over his cheeks and forehead. When he didn’t pull away, I placed my lips upon his, breathing into his mouth as he parted his lips for me. We filled each other, a kiss like drowning, pulling towards each other with fervent necessity. But as passionate as it was, there was a deliberate slowness that had been present in all of our kisses. 

As we separated, he pulled away and lay back, gazing quietly from behind those deceptively innocent eyes. I remained above him, my hands taking the reverse path up his arms, over his shoulders, meeting at the center of his chest. I paused here, tracing a lopsided heart shape over his skin. He didn’t want you to stop. He wants to be touched and you want to touch. His hands clasped mine between them and he brought my finger tips to his lips in a delicate gesture of submission. I sighed for that touch which was simultaneously erotic and tragic. He didn’t need to submit to anyone. 

I recalled his earlier helplessness, his pleas for healing, the loving desperation in the way he clung to me. You stop because you’re afraid of what this will turn into. You’re afraid that he will become every other man. There will be the awkwardness, and then the inevitable emptiness. My idle fingertips took to tracing the fullness of his lips as my thoughts consumed me. This was what I was good at. I knew how to solve things physically, but I wanted to give Jade so much more than that. His breath shuddered against the pads of my fingers and pulled me from my concentration. He lay vulnerable before me, everything in him screaming to be healed, and a sudden wave of guilt pounded over me. Give him what you can. He’s been denied affection his whole life. Don’t you dare hold back from him now.

With that idea ripping through me, I leaned down, sliding out along his body to let him feel my weight. He moaned against my neck as I pressed my knee between his thighs to steady myself. His body tensed momentarily, and then relaxed into mine as I placed a whispered kiss at the corner of his mouth. Trust me Jade. Give me the chance to heal you. I let my lips linger over his mouth, tasting the heat the resided there before slipping down to his throat to run my lips over his trembling pulse. His hands came to rest on my hips and I could feel his fingers tensing and releasing as I moved over him. 

I traveled down his body, my lips taking the same path as my hands had earlier. I kissed the individual scars, caressing the skin with my breathing. Occasionally he would sigh or moan softly, but otherwise he was still as he took in my touches. I hazarded a glance up at him and was struck by his beauty. His back was arched slightly and his head was turned towards me. The hair that fell in pieces over his face stroked the lids of his closed eyes and the edges of his parted lips from which nearly indiscernible pants were coming. I kissed the palm of his hand, wanting so desperately to be pure for him. He deserved nothing less that purity and perfection. 

I crawled back up his body and kissed his mouth fully. Feel me Jade, real real real. He returned the kiss, bring his hands up to cradle my face tenderly. When I awakened from the kiss, I looked down to find his eyes open and clearly focused on my own. We remained like this, entwined by our gaze. His eyes, which revealed so much that I knew he wished to keep hidden, pulled me into him more deeply than any kiss could ever accomplish. My moved our lips together in teases and hints of kisses without breaking the eye contact, and our bodies began to subconsciously move together. When the friction became more than noticeable and we were both breathing quickly, I dropped my head to his shoulder and nipped lightly at his earlobe. Another one of his cautious moans pierced the air and his hands fluttered over my back. We weren’t thinking outside of this moment anymore. There was just a time composed of heart beats and skin-to-skin touch. 

“Jade...” My voice was raspy and breathless against his ear and he nodded quickly in response as he pressed against me. I swallowed a moan and kissed the underside of jaw. 

“May I touch you?” The movements halted and our harsh breathing was the only symbol that life existed in the room. As he slid from beneath me, I was gripped with a quick horror that I had pushed too far too fast. Just as I was about to fix my obvious mistake, he moved his hands to the button of his pants and relief replaced the fear that had seized me. I moved back against the side of his body and he looked up at me, biting down on his lower lip. I slipped my left arm behind his neck so I could support myself on my elbow and still touch him. With my right hand, I caressed his cheek and kissed his forehead. He nodded, more for his own benefit than mine. Leaning down, I captured his lower lip between my own and began to caress down his chest. 

Give him what you can.

CH28

Davey’s POV cont:

Sighs and moans came more rapidly as I spread my touches over his chest, letting my fingertips memorize the order of his ribs, the quick rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of need that coated his being. His hands flickered over my face and my shoulders as he looked at me with eyes full of inexplicable and terrifying understanding. His whole trembling body was a battleground. Trust and love, casualties of what he’d been put through. I couldn’t even guess what he felt, or how he felt. I could only provide him with touches that I’d always craved from lovers but had never received.

Running the flat of my palm over his nipples, I swallowed his groan with a deeply heavenly kiss that he returned. Pulling away, my lips swollen with the taste of him, I slipped back over him and began my journey down his body. His hands moved to my neck, wary fingers moving over my throat, up to the shells of my ears, back over my hair, the touch never quite certain, always somewhat lost. His skin felt so fragile beneath my lips that the irrational fear that even my lips could scar him started to grow in my mind. Arriving at his navel, I covered it with parted lips and flicked my tongue into the small crevice. His reaction of a tiny gasp and the tensing of his stomach pressed shivers through my own body and added to the ache of my dramatically increasing desire. Self control began to seem like a foreign concept as my mouth finally met the waistline of his pants, but any sense of uncontrollable lust disappeared when I looked up at him. His hands had since left me and he now kept his right knuckles pressed to lips while his left hand wrapped tightly around his right wrist. Eyes closed, brows furrowed, whole body tensed in a way that illuminated the war within him. I knelt between his legs and reached forward to stroke his forearm as my heart pounded madly in my chest. 

“Jade, Jade... please, what is it?” My voice was shaded with worry. He gave a quick shake of his head but didn’t open his eyes.

“You want me to stop?”. I asked, trying to keep the selfish disappointment out of the tone. 

“No. No, don’t. Just let me- just don’t stop.” He gasped quietly as he brushed his fingers over my hand that rested on his forearm. I nodded and knelt back, placing my hands on his hip bones before kissing a path from one of the other. He needed this to be simple, as pure as possible. I could see that necessity in him. I would not let this end up as another scar on his already mutilated body. So it was with utter care that I drew the zipper down, tooth by tooth, reveling in the small alternations of his breathing as my fingers separated the fabric. I slipped my hand beneath his hips, whispering “lift please” to which he obliged quickly. Hooking my fingers around the waist, I tugged off the confining pants, dropping them to my side. I returned to him quickly, running my hands over his newly exposed calves, marveling at the muscles that moved in response to my touch. 

I kept my eyes on his face the whole time, bearing witness to the sweepings of change that occurred. His left hand relinquished it’s hold of his wrist but he kept both his hands pressed to lips and chin as if he were attempting to hold back an awful confession. From beneath his fingers, I could see his lips working in silent pleas that tore into my heart. Share them with me. Share your pain with me. I bit my lip and continued to study his face, watching for any readable cues, as I trailed my fingers up his calves, behind his knees, and over his thighs. I could feel his body clenching and tensing under my hands, only to release and relax into a moan. 

“Davey.” My name distinguished itself from the rest of his incomprehensible sounds. I moved forward immediately, pressing myself against his side as I covered his cheek with kisses.

“I’m here.” I murmured against his ear as I nuzzled him gently. One of his hands freed itself from his lips to grasp my hand that rested on his chest.

“Stay close to me.” He whispered, his eyes downcast as if he were embarrassed to ask. Again, there was the hint of the child in him. The shame and fear, the constant walking on the verge of rejection became so obvious in moments like these when he was at his most vulnerable. 

“Anything you want.” I placed a kiss on lips after each word, pressing the meaning into him. Slipping my arm beneath his shoulders again, I remained on my side and kissed him languidly, letting him control the pace. The hand that he kept trapped between his chest and his own hand was finally released as he moved it to stroke my cheek. I leaned against his hand, needing to draw out every timid touch he offered. He dropped his head back against the pillow and looked up at me with his infinitely questioning eyes. My hand resumed it’s path, tripping delicately over his ribs. I just wanted to please him, I wanted to show him the erotic and sensuous experiences that he deserved. But mostly, I just wanted him to trust me enough to let himself go. As I traced the waistline of his boxers, I heard his breath hitch in his throat as an attempted whimper was cut off. His fingers tightened on my shoulder where they had come to rest and his eyes flew open. 

“Shhhhh. It’s ok. It’s ok.” I breathed as I lay down, my head level with his on the pillow. I flattened my hand against his stomach, rubbing soothing circles over his fevered skin. 

“Look at me.” I continued, stroking my fingers across the elastic band again. He turned and held my gaze, his tongue licking nervously at that fantasy-worthy bottom lip. I pulled him closer to me, rolling him slightly onto his side as I cupped his hip in my hand. 

“Do you remember when we met?” I asked, dipping my fingers carefully beneath the fabric, feeling along the ridge of his hip bone. He nodded carefully, eyes never once leaving mine. 

“I wanted you the very second I saw you. I remember feeling so dull and... unworthy next to you. “ My hand pushed the fabric down over his hip, taking in his shivers as I ghosted my fingertips against the base of his shaft. His teeth clamped down on his lip and he looked at me with a heartbreaking gaze that was given by victims to their abusers. 

“Oh Jade..” My voice crumpled beneath the weight of what I wanted to say.

“Don’t be afraid of me, of this. Please don’t.” I rubbed those tender circles over his tummy again while kissing the fingertips he offered to me in some sort of voiceless apology. I stretched the moment out, holding his fingertips delicately between my lips as my hand traveled further down.

“ You know, you were my reason for signing up for that class. You captivated me from that very first meeting, and you’ve held me since. “ I let my words tumble freely, getting tangled on his fingertips that he still held to my lips. Give him everything. Tell him what he means to you. In his eyes, I could see the softening, the melting that I always watched for when I had dared to touch him. He moved his hand from my mouth now, choosing instead to caress my cheek with his knuckles. My fingers were now at his base again, and when I brushed them carefully over the sensitive skin, he sighed and twitched his hips towards me. I smiled for that, pulling my fingers over his length as he reached out to me and wrapped his arms about my shoulders. With excruciating tenderness, I curled my fingers about him and began stroking slowly. He released a shuddery breath and rolled completely onto his side, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. The awkwardness of the position hardly mattered as I pressed the palm of my hand to his back , cradling him against me. 

“You are so beautiful Jade. My heart threatens to stop every time I so much as glance at you. Do you realize that?” I whispered against his ear. He gave a tiny shake of his head, followed by a more punctuated “ah!” as I stroked his slit. His arms folded against my shoulders, pulling himself as close as possible to me. We clung to one another as hips and hand moved in a tightly confined dance that burned with friction now.

“You are becoming my world.” My breathless voice caught between my own surprised tears and I heard him choke out his own small sigh. I could feel his ragged breath on my neck and his frantically restrained movements indicated that he was close. I moved my lips over any exposed skin I could reach, coaxing him against me. And suddenly, his movements stopped. His breath halted, his hands wrenched themselves from my back, and he curled against himself. 

“No no love. What is it? Talk to me please.” I whispered urgently, clutching at his back and kissing his hair. 

“Can’t... wrong...” His words were split and terrified. He was perched on the razored edge between ecstasy and taunting memory. 

“Don’t leave me now. Please don’t.” I begged, still stroking him, murmuring against his taut body. 

“It’s ok to want this Jade. I promise, this is nowhere near wrong.” A tremor ran through his body as he rolled onto his back, pushing tears away with the backs of his hands. I rolled with him, never breaking contact. He continued to wipe at his face furiously, his anger at himself overwhelming.

“It’s just you and me here, ok? No one is here that will hurt you.” I promised softly. He nodded again but kept his hands tucked against himself. I let my hand resume it’s pace and I pressed my lips to his forehead, tasting the light glaze of sweat that beaded his skin. Within moments, his breathing reclaimed it’s ragged and uneven quality and I let soothing and calming words flow from my lips, attaching them to his skin with gentle kisses. I felt his hands flicker towards my chest and his hips pressed up with sudden force against my hand. 

“Yes love, yes.” I encouraged gently, running my thumb over his slit as I felt him tense again. 

Then suddenly, his body was twisting below me, his hands blossoming out to my face as he pulled me towards him. My lips lingered above his own that were twitching madly as he uttered rapid and sensual nothings. Contorted, a hybrid of a scream and sob was torn from his lips as he came, thrusting his hips erratically as he cried out. I pulled him back against me, holding his convulsing form against my chest as his orgasm ravaged him. The tremors slowly calmed to stillness, just as his screams turned to sobbing. He gripped my back, clinging to me in utter defeat and exhaustion. His voice was raw with defenselessness as he spent his tears against my chest. I held his frail soul as if I could somehow keep him together. But my words were spent as well and there was nothing I could think to say to pull him from this. So I just cradled him to me, hoping that these tears were born out of something over than that which haunted him. 

CH29

Jade’s POV:

I felt dissected. Flayed open, set on display. Each of my features, my flaws, set under garish light for observation and analyzation. I laid in his arms, quaking beneath the damnable weight of his affection, as the heaviness of our actions saturated me. I knew my body wasn’t enough to contain the dual universe of pain and pleasure that he had given to me. My ribs seemed to be dissolving below his touch, and my own sobs were drilling through my spine. 

I clutched masochistically at his chest as he murmured low words that lost their meaning between his lips and my ears. It was incomprehensible, it was reprehensible. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever been part of. In the most primal sense, he had ripped me apart, and I had wanted it. No... I had fucking ached for it. I had known that much then, but now, only minutes later, I felt the burn of every slap and the cut of each word rise from my graveyard-past. The infiltration of my hate pushed suddenly and violently through my veins and I couldn’t contain the animalistic cry that covered Davey’s tender murmurings. His hands were on my face then as I tried to wrench away, feeling the nausea rise again. The voices were crowding in my mind and dizziness clutched me as I ground my teeth together to hold back the sickness. leavemeleavemeleaveme I half-prayed, half-demanded. 

“Jade, Jade, Jade...” The foreignness of my name penetrated my ears, but I finally freed myself from his hold and stumbled to my feet. The room spun awfully with the mixture of voices and memories. Let me touch you.... I won’t raise a fucking fag.... You’re an abomination... don’t leave me now. Just as the voices reached their apex, I shut down. There was nothingness. I wrapped my arms around my chest and leaned back against the wall, breathing harshly. Davey was kneeling on the bed, his eyes wide and his hands shaking at his chest. 

“Are... are you all right?” He whispered with heart breaking fear. The guilt of what I had just shown to him after he had provided me with nothing but tenderness and patience scraped over me. Davey, do you see now? Why did you ever come back?. I swallowed those words and nodded.

“I’m just going to shower.” He nodded with a jerking motion and watched as I retreated to the bathroom. I could feel his eyes on me, stripping me of anything I had left to cling to. I shut the door and leaned against the sink, my fingers resting along the same ridges I’d grasped so many times before. Disappointment ravaged my body and managed to press more tears from my eyes. I wanted to be so beautiful to him. I wanted to be the perfection he deserved. Fag fag fag fag. You let him touch you. You let him make you come. You let another fucking man do that... well, if you could even call that pansy a “man”.

“Stop it.” I choked out, gripping the unforgiving tile as I searched for something good, anything. You are becoming my world. I let that tender sentence play over and over in my mind. Let it overtake the other anger imbrued words. Let it calm my heart. The devil-voice of my father finally sunk back into the dark corners of my mind and I exhaled thankfully. 

I let the water push against my skin as I slowly considered his touch. The way he had pressed the pads of his fingers to my body was almost as if were trying to erase the scars. I didn’t want these erased. Tortured skin, but it was my skin. I saw in Davey such a desire to “heal” me, to “fix” me. I felt the burden that I was resting heavily in my own heart, and I hated to imagine how much I was weighing him down. The thought that ran screaming into my mind whenever he came near me reappeared behind my closed eyes. Why are you with me Davey? His answer, that he was happiest with me.... I just couldn’t swallow that. Who would be happy with such a twisted and so hopelessly broken man? 

I turned the water off, scrubbed clean of his soul-stroking touch, and stepped carefully onto the mat. The stark whiteness of the walls, the bright lights, the carefully folded towels all dug into my skin. The utter cleanliness and distance that they represented were suffocating, and in a flash of unwelcome clarity, I saw myself reflected in them. This is what you are. A wall, closed off. Keep yourself safe behind the distance, keep it all bottled up. Don’t let anyone see behind the false exterior.

That is what the scars were. One last desperate gasp of my heart trying to crash through my binding layers of lies and closed off emotion. The recent ones, those were Davey’s. His name was etched onto each drop of blood that dripped from the cuts. He was the reason, the name I whispered as I pressed the blade to the welcoming skin. It was for his sake, it was a balancing out. He was made to bleed because of me, it was only right. This was guilt blood. 

I shook my head, flinging water droplets against all the perfect surfaces before glancing back in the mirror. Who could ever get to the center of all of this shit? And even if all the layers were peeled painstakingly away, would there be anything left at my core?

CH30

Davey’s POV:

I remained in the bed and curled myself about the sheets in an attempt to hold his haunting warmth to my chest. The bitter bile of disappointment and failure burned at my throat and I pulled myself into a tighter ball. Did you think one hand job was going to “cure” him? 

The water shut off and a moment later the door clicked open. I kept my back to the door, even when I felt the mattress shift under his weight as he sat next to me. 

“I’m sorry.” The apology permeated the tense air and I let his words roll into me. How many more apologies would it take? How many more before it would stop meaning anything?

“Don’t apologize anymore.” The shocked pause passed between us slowly and I felt the mattress shift again as he laid down behind me, his breath careful against my shoulder. 

“I don’t know what else to say then. I am so sorry Davey... I just, I don’t know what happens, I don’t know why”. I halfway nodded. I believed it. I believed his pain and his fear. What I couldn’t believe was that he didn’t know what happened to him when I touched him.

“You know why.” I spoke quietly, my words falling against my fists. The silence that defined our relationship settled around us for a long while before I felt his hand on my side. His fingers found the small valleys between my ribs and I heard him take several breaths before he started.

“Forgive me.”

“I asked you to not apologize anymore.”

“An apology is different than a request for forgiveness.”

“Why are you asking for my forgiveness?” His hand made it’s way over my chest and he pressed his own torso to my back now. I took his hand in mine automatically.

“Because I don’t understand why you’re here with me after all I’ve done to you.”

“That doesn’t require forgiveness Jade, it requires patience.” I could sense his lips pressing against each other as he thought. He hadn’t been expecting my blunt answer. Yes Jade, you try my patience. Day after day you push it.

“How long before you give up?” His voice reeked of the distant “cool” he put on when he was trying to cover up his vulnerability. How did he do it? How did he manage to break my heart in less than ten words?

“What makes you think I will?” I replied carefully, tracing the circumference of his wrist with my free hand. He shrugged against me in answer.

“This isn’t one of those stories of ‘oh guess what? I love you’ to which you’d respond ‘wow, I love you too’ and we live beautifully ever after. Neither of us were made for that kind of simplicity.”

“I know that.” He snapped quietly, irritated at my unintentional condescension. I rolled over to face him, gracing my fingertips along his tightly set jaw. 

“Do you truly think that you have to ask my forgiveness?”. He closed his eyes against the question. 

“It’s all I know how to do.” He whispered finally.

* * *

Days progressed, the deepening of summer into late July saw the NorCal natives bitching about 80 degree heat. Tourists flooded the bay, part-time scenesters crowded Rasputin’s, and Jade and I carried on. Sometimes static, sometimes progressing. Or at least it seemed as such. We would get into spats. I was too quick to anger when he distanced himself and put up his blank face, and he would accuse me of being impatient. But we moved through it, whether by flat out ignoring the words or my fooling ourselves into thinking that we had “dealt” with it. 

Mostly though, the days were quiet. Together, we were like I had imagined. The teasing, the laughter, the unquestioned calm that settled over us when we touched. There was perfection, but it was perfection built on a faulty foundation. I could see the fear in both of us that the tremor that would level us was waiting just below the surface.

* * *

“See ya on Monday Davey.” 

“Bye Loni.” I waved casually to my coworker and headed out to the dusk drenched street, my feet turning automatically to campus. The knowledge that Jade was still holed up in the library pushed me faster through the streets. Pulling the library door open, I paused and inhaled the peacefulness that flowed throughout the building before walking in. I found him quickly, surrounded by stacks of articles and looking positively content. I watched him for a moment, noting the quick flitting motions of his pen over his legal pad of notes and the way the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he drowned in thought. Six quick steps and I was seated across from him, smiling into his startled eyes.

“Hi.” I whispered, stretching my arms across the table to take his hands. He dropped his pen and folded his hands in mine, watching as our fingers intertwined. It was a motion that had become familiar to us, but never failed to make me smile. I lived for these quiet moments. This was the stability that I had never known and had hoped to get from Jade. I hushed the nagging voice that asked sure you won’t be disappointed again? and focused on the divine sensation of his warm hands in mine. 

Sharp footsteps echoed towards us but I took no notice of them until the drew closer. Suddenly, Jade pulled his hands from mine and set about “organizing” his materials. A girl about my age passed our table, throwing a split-second glance over her shoulder at us. As soon as she disappeared down another aisle, his fingers ghosted over the backs of my hands, entreating them to open up to him. 

I kept them pressed flat against the table. 

Jade’s POV:

I recognized the fierce determination etched in Davey’s face as he refused the touch. His eyes were lowered but his jaw was tightly set and when he spoke, it was through his teeth.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” I replied stupidly, pulling my hands back into my lap. 

“Pull away.”

“She could’ve seen us.” I fiddled nervously with the edge of my legal pad. 

“So?” He raised his eyes and evaluated my coldly. 

“So? That’s all. She could’ve seen us.”

“And that matters how exactly? Plenty of people saw you and Des holding hands. So this girl sees us holding hands and then she goes to check out her books. End of story Jade.” The distant cool had melted into a fiery glare and he pushed his chair away from the table harshly as he stood.

“Des and I... that’s different.” I offered as I got to my own feet.

“Because she’s a woman? Yes Jade, let’s play the good little heterosexist game. While you’re at it, why don’t you just forget that you’re queer.” He hissed exasperatedly.

“I’m not-”

“You’re not what? You’re not queer?” He practically sneered and I was floored. We had argued before, but I had never seen this cruelty in him before. As if he could sense my disgust, the sneer vanished but the anger remained. He continued in a low voice.

“Whether you like it or not Jade, you are in a relationship with a man and by commonly accepted definitions, that makes this a queer relationship. And you have got to deal with that.” With that, he turned and walked away. I stood rooted to the tile, staring at the empty chair while my multitude of reactions stung me. Who the hell does he think he is?... I thought he understood how hard this was.... Ever think how hard it might be on him... god, maybe he’s right...what does he want? I stood there for indefinite length of time before I shook myself free and pushed my stuff into my bag.

Out on the twilight cast street, I searched for him but I couldn’t pick out his form from the herds of people moving dully along Telegraph. My eyes moved frantically over unfamiliar faces before I finally gave up the possibility that he was there. In another half-second, I had turned and started off towards his house. 

By the time I reached his porch, I was practically panting and my body was alight with indignation at his words, but more pressing was the fear that I had lost him. I rapped my fist against the door impatiently until it was wrenched open.

“Jade...” Marc stood in the doorway, surveying me with a look of slight repulsion. 

“Is Davey here?” I asked quickly.

“I don’t think he wants to see anyone right now.”

“Anyone, or just me?” Marc shifted, a brief look of pity crossing his features.

“Look Jade, just go home. Give him some time ok?” I shook my head and pressed my hands to my face.

“No. No, I can’t go home. Please let me see him. I need to talk to him.” I begged, my words muffled by angry tears and the press of my hands. The pause was broken by the feel of Marc’s hand on my shoulder, guiding me inside. I wiped my eyes and gave him a weak smile of thanks. He nodded towards Davey’s shut door and walked back towards his own room. 

“Davey?” I practically whispered as I knocked.

“What.” His voice was completely flat and exhausted.

“It’s Jade. May I come in?” The formality of my voice betrayed the shaking of my hands and the uncertainty of my heart. There was a creak of a mattress and I heard him mutter “goddamnit, Marc” before the door was pulled open. He stood with defensive pride, but the smudges of eyeliner around his irritated eyes told a different story. 

“Yes?” He tried to pull the cold tone back over his voice but I heard hints ot hope and relief in the single word question. I swallowed and stepped in, closing the door behind me. He didn’t relinquish any ground so we stood a mere five inches apart, both of our chests rising and falling together and I wasn’t sure if this would end in kisses or blood. 

CH31

Davey’s POV:

We stood so close, our bodies radiating an erotically angry heat and for a moment I thought that he was going to fight me. I can imagine the flat of his hand across my cheek and the thought of it nearly makes me grin. At least it would be a reaction. 

But he doesn’t and neither of us move. We just stand, taking in each other and trying to feel out this next step. He looks broken. Not in the way that he’s always been, but as if his final vertebrae of support has finally splintered. Another brief instant passes and I wonder if that final vertebrae was me. 

I watched as he rolled words about between his lips, trying to select the “right” ones. My hands twitch with the desire to touch him. I clasp them behind my back and drop my gaze to the floor. Again, hitting this wall. We talk. We fight. We come back. Why do we keep coming back?

“What do we do Davey?”. I swallowed. My throat was tight, my body wrenched and sore. 

“That’s an impossible question.” I whispered, toeing the carpet fretfully. He sighed and moved to my bed, sitting down heavily upon the twisted sheets. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him run his hands through his hair before dropping his face against his palms. He sat defeated, but beautiful. Always so fucking beautiful. 

“Do you want me to leave?” His words flowed through his fingers and I found myself shaking my head before my lips could form a reply. My mouth would’ve betrayed me, told him to go. Told him that this would never work. Told him precisely the opposite of everything my body and heart felt. I kept my traitorous lips shut and walked to the bed, sitting gingerly next to him. 

“If you’re angry about what happened in the library, then I’m sorry.” He took his hands away from his face and placed them in his lap. 

“It’s not just today Jade...” I paused, knowing that I was on the verge of pain.

“What do you mean?” Fear and skepticism edged his voice as he turned to look at me. I focused on his hands, watching his long fingers toying with the silver bands that adorned a couple of them. I love those hands. The hesitation that lived in them. The way they caressed the small of my back when he kissed me. The way he held them when he was nervous.

“You won’t let me touch you when we’re not in the safety of one of our rooms. And even then, it’s like you don’t really want me. It’s like you’re just putting up with me or something.” I ended weakly, letting the words that had built up around my tongue finally loosen themselves. His hands tensed, gripping themselves. 

“You really think that?” The question was harsh and restrained, but I nodded.

“I-I just need the physical stuff too Jade. Sometimes it just feels like you’re ashamed of me. Ashamed of yourself.” No, I’m the one who’s shameful, it was so damn shameful. Why couldn’t I just give him my patience and my heart? Why couldn’t I just be happy with what he was capable of giving? Sighs, tight swallows, hands tightening and releasing. I hung suspended over the moment, not really understanding what I had just said. Then his hands were on my shoulders, pushing me down against the bed. His lips on mine, fingers kneading along my spine as he pressed himself to me. I arched up, reacting immediately to his weight that he ground into me. The touches were quick and desperate, pulling me against him as he slipped his tongue past my lips. I gasped beneath his force as he rocked his hips against mine. I was drowned in sensation, forgetting anything except the body upon mine. His lips broke away from mine to move to my throat, teeth digging with odd ferocity at the tender skin there. I cried out, encircling him in my arms. His breath was hot and ragged against my skin, his lips and teeth leaving leaving a bruised path along my throat. He gave a sudden gasp, and I felt a warm wet drop land on my skin. 

“Jade?” I struggled to choke out his name. He shook his head and continued to kiss my neck as he pushed his hand under my shirt. I uttered an involuntary groan as his hand swept over my nipples, but I was jerked out of the pleasure of it by the placing of more tears on my skin. 

“Jade stop” I gasped, pulling his hand away from my skin. He shifted quickly, pinning my hand above my head before pressing his mouth to mine again. There was no tenderness in this. No emotion other than desperation. I turned my head sharply, pulling myself away from his lips.

“No. Stop.”

“I thought you needed this.” He offered, confusion and shame riddled his voice as he tried to move back against me.

“Not like this.” I whispered, going limp in his arms. I turned my face away, tears scalding the corners of my eyes.

Jade’s POV:

“Please Jade, not like this.” I pushed away finally, curling up on the edge of the bed while he sat up. I felt all at once sick, horrified, and empty. There was nothing left. I had certainly lost him now. I wanted to disappear into myself, become the void that had expanded within me. He regarded me carefully, the same look he must’ve given me after I had attacked him washed over his features. Never should have come back.

“Don’t do it just because you know I want it. That’s not the right reason.” He said softly, running his fingers over the abused skin of his throat. 

“All we have are wrong reasons.” I muttered against my knees. He was silent then, just the occasional catch in his breathing as he cried. 

“Am I worth this to you?” He asked finally. My instinct was to nod frantically. To tell him that I couldn’t imagine my life prior to his appearance in it. 

But I hesitated. One second too long, one thought too many to push away. The sob that consumed him in that instant impressed my mistake upon me full force and I staggered to my feet. Apologies spilled out as I dropped to my knees next to him. 

“No Jade. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.” He whispered, laying a trembling hand on my shoulder. I shook my head. How is it ok? How was any of this ever fucking ok?.

“I’m trying.” I whimpered, grasping his hand. He looked at me through lashes laced with tears and nodded. 

“What do you want? Tell me and I’ll do it. I’ll try so hard for you.” I pleaded pitifully. 

“I need to not feel like I have to save you. I need you to not punish yourself for caring about me. I need to not feel afraid to touch you. But right now, I need you to go.” Numb. Completely numb. I just stared at him, shaking my head slowly. 

“Please Jade. Please just go.” His voice was completely broken and his eyes screamed for me to stay, but his words dictated my actions. 

“I’m trying so hard Davey...please don’t make me go.” My begging was halted by the look in his eyes. We were both permeated in mistakes, and the guilt that I felt flooding my own veins was reflected in his eyes. So I gathered myself together and stood, nodding tearfully and backed out, leaving my heart in that room.

I left as a shell. 

CH32

Davey’s POV:

What have you done what have you done what have you done what you done what have you done have you done.... Pain to the point of emptiness. Sleep. Sleep was all I could manage.

* * *

I turned off. I wasn’t sure what precisely had happened. I had just watched as it all fell to pieces in my unworthy hands. At points of rare lucidity, I could only see his eyes. Vicious for love and I had turned him away. I clutched my chest and sobbed to the point of retching. Sick with self disgust. Sick because it was my fault. 

Days and night bled together. Marc would come in. He’d speak flat sounding words, some kind offer but I would only roll over and shut my eyes. He would leave eventually and I would drift back into my own personal limbo. 

Jade’s POV:

“Jade?”

“Sir?” I raised my eyes from the table and found nine heads turned towards me. 

“It’s your turn to present your research findings... unless of course you’re not well.” Professor Lieberman furrowed his brows together as he spoke. The other eight people, various research assistants and professors, all looked at me with tight lips and expectant eyes. I shook my head.

“I have my information sir, but I’m not well. I apologize.” I said quickly as I pushed away from the table and left the room. Once the door clicked closed behind me, I heard various hushed voices.

“Well he could have at least tried.”

“Does he expect us to hold another meeting just for him?”

“Excuse me...” I turned and walked heavily down the hallway, hoisting my bag over my shoulder. The door opened behind me and then quick footsteps followed my own.

“Jade, wait.” I turned reluctantly and faced Lieberman who was walking warily towards me. I shifted my eyes to the ground again. Here it comes. I’m fired. Of course.

“What’s going on Jade?” His voice was surprisingly compassionate and I glanced up at him quickly before focusing on my shoes again.

“Nothing sir. I’m just ill.” 

“Just ill... you’re not sneezing, your voice is fine, you don’t look feverish, I didn’t see you vomiting in there, and you made it to the meeting in one piece so I’ll assume you’re not hallucinating. What kind of ill are we talking about here?” He put his hand on my shoulder and caught my reluctant gaze, smiling softly. 

“I’m fine sir. Really.” I stepped back and let his hand drop from my shoulder. The gesture reminded me too much of Davey and I could already feel the tightness in my chest forming. 

“So you’re ill, but you’re fine.... Look Jade, I need your full abilities here. Why don’t you take a few days and come back when you can speak one sentence to me without the word ‘sir’ in it.” I gave a weak smile at his joke and nodded before turning again to walk home. 

My apartment was silent and somehow foreign without Davey in it. Gray and neutral and numb. I dropped my bag in the middle of the hallway and entered my room. I sat on the floor, back pressing up against the side of my bed. I felt stale, as if my internal organs were slowly rotting. No matter how many times I went over that night, I couldn’t explain what had happened. So much hurt and disappointment. My own unwillingness. Why couldn’t I just have been what he needed? I stretched his patience too far and got what I deserved. 

I sat quietly, pressing my hands against my shins. I had no tears left. No heart left perhaps. I could only sit quietly and let the void open in my chest. 

Davey’s POV:

“Davey.” My name was a statement, not the quiet question I’d come to expect during Marc’s visits to my room. I snapped my eyes open and focused on his form in the doorway. 

“Get up. We have to talk.” His voice was firm and unrelenting, but I couldn’t move. 

“Your self pity is pathetic.” He sat down on the end of the bed and starred at me harshly.

“You’re not eating. You haven’t left your bed in days. You’ve become every cliched character in every poorly written romance novel.” He stopped and continued to look down at me. 

“Are you through with the verbal abuse?” I asked dryly, shoving myself into stiff sitting position. 

“No. You need to get your sad ass out of bed and get back into your life. I’m sick of lying to your boss for you. You’re going to get fired soon if you don’t go back.” I just shook my head. I was passed the point of really caring. I just wanted Jade back, no matter how pathetic and moronic that sounded. 

“Yes Davey. You know it has to happen. You can’t stay in here forever.”

“I know... but I can’t.” I whispered, folding my hands in my lap. I felt my defenses rising quickly. 

“I’m sorry man, I know it’s awful right now. But you have to at least leave your room once in awhile.” His voice had lost its edge and he moved a bit closer to me. 

“I miss him.” I said simply, knowing those words didn’t do justice to what I actually felt. He sighed and rubbed my knee carefully. 

“Is it over? For good?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not even sure what happened.” I continued miserably. “I just don’t think I was making him happy. And that’s all I wanted, you know? But I behaved like a fucking child. I needed everything and I needed it right then and now he’s gone.” I sank my nails into the palms of my hands as I spoke, gritting my teeth against the brutal realizations. Marc was right. I would have to get up eventually. I would have to go back to work. I would have be all right with the fact that Jade wasn’t part of my life anymore. And I was pretty damn sure that I couldn’t do the latter. 

“Have you talked to him since that night?” I shook my head, each movement was a strain and each mention of Jade was another bitter stab. 

“Then how do you know it’s over? Things seemed to being going well... maybe you should go see him.” I looked up at him incredulously. 

“What could going back to him possibly do? You say that things were going well, that we seemed to be doing all right. But we weren’t. We were so miserable. He couldn’t touch me. I couldn’t be patient enough. I couldn’t be what he needed.”

“Oh get a fucking grip Davey.” His irritated voice lashed out quickly and I spat out my defense quickly, 

“Look, you don’t even know-”

“I know that you were happy with him. And you can bitch for however long about how you’re not what he needs or whatever other excuse you have, but the bottom line is, you were happy with him. And from what I saw, he was fucking ecstatic to be with you.” My body tensed against those words as the insult of my mistake was ground deeper into my skin. Marc’s voice came back, softened by a sigh.

“Davey, all I’m saying is what if he’s in the same shape that you are? Alone in his apartment, and he doesn’t have anyone to kick his ass into getting up.” A vision of Jade flashed into my eyes. Huddled in the corner, refusing to meet my eyes. The depressed silence. The burning. The cutting. I met Marc’s eyes quickly and he nodded slightly as if to emphasize his point.

“The least you could do is call him.” He finished quietly before getting up. 

“Why do you care about what happens to us?” I asked, pulling at a stray thread on my comforter.

“Do you even have to ask that?” He turned, leaning against the door jamb as he gave me a sympathetic smile. 

“Just call him ok?”

Jade’s apartment:

“Hi. You’re reached Jade, leave a message.”

“Jade, it’s Davey. Are you there?.... Um, I’m not sure what I should be saying right now. I just needed to talk to you. Need to see you, anything. I’m so sorry.... god I hate answering machines. If you’re there, please pick up.... Jade? OK, maybe asking you to call me is asking too much, but I just need to know... I don’t know. I wish I knew where you were, just let me know that you’re ok.”

CH33

Jade’s POV (the night prior to the message being left):

The blade rested in the palm of my hand, cool against the pulsating heat of my skin. I could feel what I needed in each stretch of my skin and I knew that this was not it. I could only beg forgiveness and etch this cursed pain into my skin for so long. I had given myself so many ultimatums. Making myself choose between two men, two different sorts of pain, but only one had ever given me respite from the other. They had both asked too much of me. One asked me to cower and deny, the other had asked me forget and start again. I thought I had answered only to the latter, but I still found myself cowering beneath a blade and denying, or being denied, what every cell in my body screamed for. 

Catching my reflection in the blade’s polished surface, I recalled the day of the funeral. The day I mistakenly thought would equate to my freedom. ”You have his eyes you know.” I stared at my grandmother, standing carefully beside my mother. The “oh” that I meant to utter stuck in my throat. The mourners moved about but I stayed, tracing each letter of the tombstone with my eyes, the eyes that would haunt my mother whenever I looked at her. “He had such beautiful eyes. I’m glad I’ll be able to remember him when I look at you.” A quick pat on my shoulder and my grandmother moved on with my mother. His eyes. The ones that burned me through with his obvious disdain when he ever so much as glanced at me. My eyes. The ones Davey loved so much. The kisses he dropped so lightly upon my eyelids, whispering that he could drown in them. Our eyes. Sharing a hatred that was born of him. 

I would not bear it any longer. I pushed my way up, dropping the blade to the floor as I went. 

Davey’s POV:

I turned the cordless phone over and over in my hands. Call me call me call me repeated with each rotation. I replayed the incident of months ago after Des had left him. I remembered the completely hollowed out look in his eyes, the blood on the towel, his apathetic voice. What if I was doing the same thing to him now?

The excruciating hours passed by as I paced my room. I gave him until 8pm to call me. If I hadn’t heard from him by then, I would go over. Perhaps if this had been months ago, I would’ve left right then, but the paralyzing fear of whatever I might find would be my fault halted me. I despised my cowardice, but I bowed beneath it’s force nonetheless.

* * *

8:03pm. The glow from my alarm pushed me into my coat as I fumbled for my keys. My whole body trembled but I managed to lock the door behind me before rushing down the stairs. Those hours between the phone call and now had afforded me the realization that nothing was ever going to be certain with him, but the fact that I felt incomplete if I didn’t see or speak to him everyday more than outweighed the uncertainty. It came down to the only thing that made sense. I needed him. 

My presumptions of having to “save” him, of him being too broken to be with me... all so wrong. Neither of us could complete the other, we couldn’t save each other. But we could be together. We could make it more bearable. Wanting him so wholly from the moment I had seen him to this point had consumed me and made me push him, but I would make up for it. I would everything he needed. I would be so patient. I would make him believe that I was worth it. He infiltrated my senses, crowded against my heart, and no matter how he had frustrated me, he had never deserved anything but beauty. In my childish selfishness, I had pushed away the one body that I had sworn to commit to memory. 

By the time I had reach his building, my thoughts had dizzied themselves into oblivion and I was nothing but a blur of feeling. Jade was the only word on my tongue and I was fevered with the prospect of loss. I had no words to give him except “I’m sorry” and “I need you”, but I prayed that they would be enough. 

I slammed the palm of my hand against his door again and again, waiting impatiently for the sound of his footsteps on the other side. But none came. 

“Jade. Jade please! It’s Davey.” I whimpered as I slid my hand down the door. No sound from the other side. Not even a “go away.” I pressed my forehead to the door as my hand continued it’s feeble knocking, refusing to believe any of the multitude of options my mind supplied. 

Finally, I heard the click of a lock and I looked up expectantly, but it was the door to the right that opened. A middle aged woman poked her head out and glared at me.

“Do you mind?”. Her voice was raspy and tired and before I could ask if she knew where Jade was, her door slammed shut and the lock clicked back into place. I inhaled shakily and glanced around for some sort of answer. Nothing, no one. 

Defeated, I turned and slid down, leaning back against the door. My mind was spent, my body drained. Lost. Utterly and completely lost. 

All I knew was that I would wait. Wait until the neighbors called the cops on me. Wait until someone gave me some idea of what I was supposed to do. Wait until he came home. 

Jade’s POV:

The familiar road home opened up before me as I turned down the main street. The quiet streets were deceptively calm as I drove towards the one person I was there to see. As I neared my destination, I felt the familiar tremor start at the base of my spine. It began to creep through my body like a virus and soon it took all of my effort to control my hands as they gripped the wheel. I ground my teeth together, willing the physical manifestation of one too many memories to fade. 

I pulled into a parking spot and jerkingly turned the car off. Breathing shallowly, I pressed my forehead to steering wheel and tried to focus. Every time, every damn time. Finally, I opened the door and began my unsteady walk. I felt unreal and detached as the scenery blurred around me. My feet carried me over the dusk tinted grounds out of memory, and too soon I found myself standing over the site of so many of my nightmares.

Gone, but not forgotten remained etched into sparse headstone and I smirked bitterly at the honesty of it as I crouched down in front of it.

“Dad...” I started, my voice shaky and weak. Just like when he was alive. 

“No. No.” I restated, willing strength into my voice. “No, you don’t deserve that name. The only thing you deserved was a life of loneliness and agony, but you had to cop out on that too. Death was a blessing.” I spat vehemently, suddenly shocked at the viciousness in my words. As soon as I had uttered them, I felt weakness and guilt began their suffocating pull as I swallowed and dropped to my knees. Pressing my hands to the ground, I stared at the headstone, almost in a challenge. You’ve had these words for too long. He can’t do anything to you anymore, he can’t hurt you. Gritting my teeth against the nausea that rolled through me, I closed my eyes and called the words together. 

“You will listen to me. I spent years breaking beneath your words, so now it’s your turn. All I ever wanted was love. That’s all and you couldn’t give it to me you hateful motherfucker. Not even to your own son.” I felt my throat close around a sob and the cracking in my voice served as warning as I growled out the words.

“But I hated you too. Hated you for every bruise, for every threat, for every scar you left me with. For every scar that you still cause. But it ends now. It has to end right fucking now.” I pulled the backs of my quivering hands over my cheeks, and stilled my harsh breathing. You’re no better than all of his shouting and threats if you do it this way. I looked back at the austere stone, just as cold and threatening as the man who lay beneath it and for a moment, I pitied him. I pitied his closed off heart and his inability to forgive. I pitied the fact that we all visited him out of duty, but no one really missed him. For the first time in my life, I felt something other than hatred or fear for him. I pushed myself back onto my feet and squared my shoulders to the stone before continuing in a soft voice. 

“I’m in love, and I will not let you take him from me. Maybe, if he can forgive me, then he’ll love me too. And that’s something I’ve needed for so long...” I paused, and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Just let me go. I’m ready to forget you now.”

* * *

I unlocked my car and collapsed into the seat, cradling my head in my hands. I still shook, but it was the shaking of relief. I started the car and pulled away, leaving my past to crumble in ghost hands. I felt lighter and through my tears, a confused smile pushed itself forward. I knew it wasn’t over, it wasn’t going to be the magic cure that suddenly fixed me. But it was a start. It was something. 

The drive back into Berkeley passed in a haze of bay area traffic and late night lights, and it was passed 10pm when I finally pulled up outside my building. I drug myself up the stairs, the day taking it’s toll on my body. I pulled the heavy gray door to my hallway open and slipped inside, letting my eyes adjust to the flickering neon lights that peppered the ceiling. As my eyes refocused, I made out a form that sat hunched over against my door. Dark hair fell across pale skin of his forehead in a contrast that not even the god awful lights could make less beautiful. His arms hugged his knees tightly and he rested his head in the corner where the door met the wall. My heart flickered in time with the faulty lights as I approached him slowly. Each step carried the expectation of a word, a gesture, anything. But he didn’t move. 

As I knelt down before him, I caught the shallow rise and fall of his chest and on his upturned face, the dried trace of tears crossed his cheeks. He came. He came and he stayed, for me. That simplistic realization was enough. It was all I needed.

Davey’s POV:

The echoes of footsteps fell unevenly and I struggled to open my eyes. My body was tensed and everything hurt, but I forced myself into consciousness. I had no idea how much time had passed since I had settled myself into the corner, but as the bleariness cleared from my eyes, a concept of time was the furthest thing from my mind. His fingers slipped carefully beneath my wrists, soothing the tender skin there before lifting them free from my knees to lace his fingers between my own. 

Any words that I had ever had failed me and all I could was press his hands to my lips. I heard him utter a shaky sigh and I moved my legs apart to let him drop to his knees between them. 

“I’m sorry. You were worth it. You’ve been worth it-” 

“I was so scared Jade. I’m sorry, please don’t-” Our voices came rushing out, flooding the quiet of the hallway as our formerly lost words plundered our tongues. We both halted, shy smiles creeping over our faces as we slipped into quiet again. I released his hands and trailed my fingers down his jaw line. 

“How are you?” I whispered, sealing the question with a deep look into his eyes. He reached out, brushing the hair from my face as he laughed shakily.

“Tired.” 

“I know... so am I.” I caught his hands between my own and pressed them to my chest. He looked down at our hands, smiling at the rhythm at the beat out beneath his fingertips. 

“I... I just wanted to tell you... I wanted to say that I want to try. I’m ready.” His whispered words crept over me like a welcomed warmth and I melted beneath the relief that they provided.

“I was so afraid that you were hurt. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know anything except that I was going to wait.” I replied, my hands roaming over his arms and up to his shoulders as the reality of him solidified in my mind and the sob dislodged itself from my throat. 

“I’m here... I’m here, it’s ok.”. I nodded as we clung to each other. We passed calming words into one another’s mouths as our bodies fell together to form a completion that I had only known with him. It was, it would be ok. It wasn’t perfect and it would never be. But what this was would be more than enough.