Sin didn’t love him—he pitied him. Tears built in his eyes, but Cecil refused to let them fall. Crying did nothing—it was pointless.
So he would push them back, then smile and agree. Cecil wouldn’t beg, or cry, or ask to stay. Or ask Sin to come with him. He would end everything as if he felt nothing, because Cecil had made the mistake of thinking that someone would actually love him. And he found out that, no, a chance at happiness hadn’t been worth the pain he felt now.
Cecil turned around, but he couldn’t meet Sin’s eyes. It was a struggle to even look at any part of him. “Sin, I’magreeing with you. So when do you want me gone? I’m fine with leaving now, if you want.”
“No, no. I…” Sin trailed off. “I’m not throwing you out, Cecil. But I won’t force you to stay when you hate it here. We’ll pack some of your things…and I’ll see if my personal plane is available tomorrow. If not, we can look at plane tickets.”
Cecil forced himself to look into Sin’s eyes, he forced himself to smile, and then he forced himself to lie. “Sounds good to me. You don’t have to be so worried.”
Lie.
“I’m fine.”
Lie.
“I already knew this wouldn’t last. It’s not a big deal.”
Lie.
“This is actually better for me. I was getting bored anyway.”
Lie.
Cecil slapped Sin on the arm and laughed. “Don’t look so down, we both knew this wouldn’t last. We’re too different.” Sin said nothing, his face was closed off. “Well, considering everything, I probably should sleep somewhere else tonight.”
“No,” Sin rasped. “You can stay, I’ll go.” And then he did, closing the door behind him.
He kept it together for all of two minutes. But then the trembling became too much and he sank to the floor. “Don’t cry, Cecil. Don’t you dare do it.”
Hugging himself, he dug his nails into his arms. “Don’t! You are stronger than this.” When a tear spilled over and ran down his cheek, Cecil gasped and staggered to his feet.
Oh, Gods, he couldn’t breathe!
Rushing to his nightstand, Cecil yanked the drawer open. It flew off its hinges and the articles inside thudded on the carpeted floor. With shaking hands, he grabbed the rolled up leather and freed the knife inside.
The first slice to his palm had him exhaling in relief, the second made him feel grounded, and the third gave him the one thing he had denied himself for so long.
With tears in his eyes, he whispered, “Welcome back, Drop.”
Sin should have tried to delay it. He should have lied, said his plane was otherwise engaged, that there were no tickets available.
But he hadn’t. Sin had heard the falseness of Cecil’s words, but he had thought this was for the best. At least, Sin had yesterday. Today was different. Today, the only thought in his head was that he shouldn’t let him go.
Cecil was standing awkwardly with his bags in front of him, but Sin said nothing. The twins were next to him, their expressions pinched.
“I guess this is it,” Cecil said.
Sin nodded dumbly.
“Well, goodbye then.”
“Goodbye,” Sin whispered as Cecil walked away.
He made it to the car without falling apart. Everyone was silent—if only his head was. But the pain wouldn’t go away; his heart felt like it had been pierced through.
There was one more emotion he had to fightdown—anger. Sin was angry. Angry that Cecil hadn’t wanted to try to work things out. But most of all, he was angry at himself.
The rage inside him grew, becoming sharper by the minute. When they reached home, he spoke to no one. Sin ignored everyone he passed, afraid he would lash out. Because at the moment, Sin blamed them as much as himself.
