“I miss you,” he finally confesses.
Then why are you doing this to me?
“Your therapist keeps telling me strange things.” He’s smiling as though he wants to joke with me, but his eyes are glassy. Suddenly, tears are sliding across his cheeks, making my heart squeeze. “About the things I deserve. About the things I want… but do you know?” His fingers slide from my hair to my cheeks, watching me as though he’s trying to commit every trace of my skin to memory, “When I try to think about the thingsIwant… there’s only you.”
I pull him into me, holding his body flush against mine. Hoping—desperately—that it will keep him from breaking, “The moment you realized that… you should’ve come to me right away.”
He shakes his head before burying himself into the crook of my neck, “I can’t. You’re not… mine.”
Ha. “What part of me isn’t yours?”
He only shakes his head again, holding me even more tightly. Whispering. Repeating. “You’re not mine.”
Why can’t you believe I'm yours? When everyone else around us already knows it’s true.
I just don’t understand what’s keeping us apart.
I don’t understand why you’re doing this to us.
“This is a dream, remember?” For the first time, I can’t bear his tears. “I’m yours. No one else’s.”
He pulls away to watch me, as though he’s afraid to blink. As though he’s frightened the dream will end soon.
“Do you like me?” I try to pull him out of his sadness with familiar words, try to bring a smile to my lips to comfort him, but it's the way his face contorts that blinds me and drives the breath out of my lungs.
“I... I love you, Reuben.”
When I take his lips again, it’s because I can no longer contain it—because I need to be inside him.
Forgive me. For stealing those words from your lips when you’re not even lucid. For stealing away your heart in the dead of night.
I continue to beg for forgiveness as I strip his pants away.
I continue to beg as I free his cock, place kisses along his collar, and leave bites along his skin.
Because even I hadn’t realized how much I longed to hear him say it.
“Reuben.”
Right when I’m about to do the unforgivable—to cross the line and slide deeply into his body—he reaches out for me, watching me with a drunken glare. His energy is both sadness and joy. Love and guilt and self-loathing.
“If this is a dream… Tell me—tell me you love me too.” It is a command. A desperate one. As though this is his only chance.
But I’ll tell you as much as you need, baby. Whether we’re awake or dreaming.
“I’ve loved you from the moment we met,” I smile against his lips, enjoying the way his eyes widen slightly, “Since then, I’ve just been… sinking deeper and deeper.”
And it’s not just your name. Or your eyes. Or your strength…
I fell in love with your darkest and brightest moments.
With your pain and your joy and yourloyalty.
Your colours are so honest and beautiful, I would pick you out easily in a crowd of thousands.
And I’d give myself over to you without a second thought.
We whisper to each other all through the night. Sweet nothings I've never given to anyone else—that he won't even remember.
