“Please—just give me a sec?—”
I let go of his hand first.
Before he can let go of mine.
“Nah. You can’t tell me this isn’t you.
“Not when you’re still choosing all of it.”
Someone bumps him from behind.
His jaw clenches.
He tries to take a stable breath—can’t.
“Jesus—I can’t. I need a second, aight?
“Can we slow down a sec?”
He’s shaking, flushed, a fucking mess,
and all I can see are the iron levels,
the blood sugar,
all the hours he hasn’t slept,
the energy he doesn’t have,
the papers I smacked against his chest hours ago.
All he sees is the end in my face.
He’s clutching his chest, his head, his stomach,
not knowing what hurts more.
“Don’t do this.
“Don’t fuckin’ do this right now.”
His eyes never leave me, scared I’ll vanish.
“You got no fuckin’ clue what this is doin’ to me. Dio mio… you fuck me up. You don’t get it. You fuckin’… split me open, Sonny. I can’t breathe—” He shakes his head. “Please—just a second, just a second,” he holds out a hand, “don’t go.”
A body trips too close,
but Andrew’s lifting an arm without looking,
instinct, second nature,
blocking the girl before she clips my shoulder.
He moves in closer, holding my gaze with eyes that are pressing on my chest, needing to be inside.
“C’mon let’s get the fuck outta here, aight?”
He’s holding my face, pulling me closer.
