Matthew winced. He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.
“Matt.” I moved forward, positioning myself between his legs and taking his face between my hands, tilting it upwards “hey. You can talk to me.”
“N-no, I-“
“This isn’t about…what I did.” I mumbled.
Matthew choked on a laugh that wasn’t genuine at all.
“Matt.”I repeated for the umpteenth time“it’s- I meant that it’s more than that.”
More tears cascaded down his face and he leant forward to bury his face in my neck, clutching the back of my hoodie like his life depended on it.
“Okay.” I wasn’t good at comforting. I never had been. I didn’t know what to do. “Can you…please tell me what’s wrong?”
“Y-you hate me.” He hiccuped “you can’t- you don’t-“
“What are you talking about?” I muttered, brows furrowing.
“All I want is for y-you to just- to stop doing it.”
“Doing what, Matt?”
“Going off with other people, youass.”He sobbed.
I sucked in a breath, heart plummeting, “Matt-“
“You’re not happy with me.” His trembling voice added, thick with emotion “I’m not enough for you. I’m never enough for anyone.”
I winced; it physically pained me that I was the one making him feel like that. It would have hurt less if he’d just punched me.
“I am.” I croaked, pressing a kiss to the top ofMatthew’s head “I am happy with you, Matt.I’m just scared.”
He held his arm out. I stared at it blankly, confused. He waved it. Taking it as a sign to take it, I slowly pushed his sleeve up, brow creasing as I did. My breath caught in my throat, stomach dropping, nausea surging. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that the colour had drained from my face.
“That’s why you were so worried about me?” I whispered, thumb tracing the scars there, some white and faded and others still fresh, raw “is this…is this my fault?”
He shook his head slightly, pressing his face against me harder, hiding it, shivers wracking his frame “s-since my m-mum…”
“Oh, Matt.” I whispered, words catching in my throat, physically in pain for the boy“why- how did I- I should have noticed.”
“Y-you weren’t looking.”
I tilted his face up, wiping his tears with my thumb and kissing him softly, sweetly. “I’m not- they- I made a mistake,” I croaked, “tonight, in the past. It’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with me not being to accept myself for who I am.” I admitted, pulling away but staying close, so much so that our lips brushed as Ispoke. Saying it felt good. Liberating.
Matthew sniffled.
“I love you.” The words left me in a rush. Matthew froze. I froze with him, lips parting, surprised by my own admission, before I realised just how true those words were and forged on “you. Only you. Don’t- please don’t ever doubt that.”
“I’m tired.” He whispered “o-of feeling like this.”
I kissed him again, then pulled his body against my chest in an embrace that he continued to sob into, dampening my hoodie with his tears “you don’t…I’m here. I’ll always be here. If…if you feel likethis-“I tapped his wrist “-again, thenpleasetalk to me first.”
He nodded once.
“I…” I brushed his hair off his forehead “I don’t want you to…to ever feel like you’re not enough for me, okay?Idon’t deserveyou, Matt. I couldn’t…you’re a fucking saint for putting up with- with me. With my not being able to admit to myself that- that I’m into boys as well as girls and everything that goes with that.”
Matthew hummed.
