So I say nothing, because he won’t believe me, I know he won’t. He’s already conditioned himself to believe I could never love him—want him—past childhood friends. He won’t even let me say it. And I know that’s all my fault.
“So,” he continues. “The last stage is pretty self-explanatory. I get super depressed—worse than the daily kind—and that’s when the urge to go getsreallybad. When the memories are so loud they’re able to remind me that every inch of me has been beaten at least once before. Of Mom’s dead body hanging there. Of what my own blood looks like. I’ve seen it more than I’ve seen birthday cards or Christmas presents. I haven’t heard my parents say they love me in so long—I don’t even think I was old enough to remember it, the last time it was said.”
Benjamin leans back on his palms and tilts his face up to the sun, eyes closed. He’s trying to calm himself down—trying not to cry.
I crawl to him until I’m on my knees, towering over his face. He feels my shadow blocking the sun, opening his eyes and staring up at me.
Everything he just said stabs into me—one by one. I lean down and kiss him on the forehead, long and gentle. My hand cups his jaw and I can feel his shaky breath as he speaks again.
“So if I stay mad, I can avoid it—that part. I didn’t even realize it was a cycle until the medicine your mom got me. The antidepressants. Once the noise wasn’t so loud, I was able to see it clearly. The pattern. But that’s all the medicinereally does. Shows me how to prevent it—calm the noise. Most of the time it stops the itch in my wrists.”
I sit back on my heels, the wind blowing the hair on my forehead slightly to the left, so Benjamin moves it back.
“You handle everything alone. It’s not right.” He laughs; his big hazel eyes are full of mirth and affection as he continues to stare up at me.
“Aaron, I’ve never really had much of a choice.”
“Yes, you did. You had me.” What the fuck does he mean no choice? I was there the entire time.
“You don’t get it. You haven’t been in my position. I have no one of my own blood to love me. I was born into this world already destined to be alone.” I can feel it in the air—something is about to change. “It was a miracle to have met Felix—to have met you. But I spent years feeling that loneliness. Looking at those blank walls in that quiet house... I have no one to invite to my wedding. I have no grandparents to offer my children. Iamalone—and have dealt with all of the cards given to me alone as a result. It’s not easy for me to turn around and suddenly rely on someone else. To be that vulnerable. So, it’s right. For me it is.”
The change is so subtle—but it shifts right inside of me. Ringing in my ears and altering my very DNA. I stare at Benjamin—at his unearthly face, his warm eyes—and I see his misfortune on his face. He’s taking off his mask.
I am an entitled, privileged brat. I couldn’t imagine him being alone when he was in the Archer house. Not with Felix, my parents and me swarming around him. I figured he was losing himself to his own thoughts—losing to depression.
Benjamin had never lost to anything. Every round had gone to him because he’s still here. He’s still alive. That kind of loneliness—that kind of pure, unadulterated sorrow that sits in his chest must feel like a void—frozen over and cracking. So painful I will never be able to imagine it.
Yet he sits with me now—smiling up at me so pretty, so soft—so fucking strong for all he’s made of.
“You’reright.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. I want to steal him—then nothing will touch him again. “It’s fucked that I never told you how strong you were back then. I should have. I never imagined… I didn’t understand the depths of it. Of what you live with. But I’ll tell you now.” I slide my palm over his cheek—feeling the burn of his skin on mine and I know that it means I love him and I’m meant to be with him forever—even if I never will be. “You’re so incredibly strong, Button. Seriously. I can’t even imagine what that pain feels like, but from what I can conjure, I feel horrible. You’re a better man than me. I’m so sorry.”
Benjamin’s eyes are watering, but his tears don’t fall, he doesn’t cry. I wonder if after last night—after the day he’s had—if he even can.
“Aaron.” He’s trembling. I know that voice, that look, that flush of his skin. “Just one?”Fuck. Begging again—just like in the bathroom at Cam’s. And just like that night, I doubt he’ll only take just one.
I’m not sure what’s appropriate after the conversation we’ve been having—what would invalidate what I’ve said or diminish the sincerity of this moment. I don’t want to push too hard. But I’d give him anything. I want to give himeverything.
“It’s okay.” Benjamin whispers, leaning up from where he was resting back on his palms. I’m still leaning over him. I can feel his breath.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt his lips—tasted him. What comes next? What happens to me then?
Fuck it. I grab his face by both cheeks, holding him still. He seems to think I’m denying him at first—lips pouting and brows furrowing. Before he can speak, I lick across the seam of his lips slowly—enjoying his gasp, how his lips part and allow me to dip a little inside as well.
It’s been so fucking long.
I bite his jaw, his earlobe, his Adam’s apple. He’s purring under me, every bit the little kitten he is. His hair is dangling with his head at this angle—falling back from his face and giving me acomplete view of his strong cheekbones, his golden brows. I take my time to lick those as well. I want to fucking devour him.
My lips attack him. I’m swallowing every sound he makes—digesting it and sending it straight to my cock. My tongue slides against his—over his teeth, the roof of his mouth, the insides of his cheeks. He pulls away.
“Aaron.” He’s panting, trying to pull in the air I’ve stolen from him. “You’re eating me.”
“Ah—fuck. Yeah, yeah I am, baby.” I suck his tongue into my mouth and he’s on me in an instant, shoving me onto my ass and straddling my thighs. I nip his bottom lip—taste his blood. Oops. “Sorry.” He looks down at me, holding my face in his hands. Blood collects on the wound and slips free from his lip.
“God, I’ve waited. So long. So patient. I don’t care if I bleed.” My cock jumps, hands tightening on his waist. “I’ve been good—really.” He’s rolling his hips down, rubbing against me. So needy, so desperate.
“Have you?”
“Yes! I didn’t take what I wanted. I didn’t push. I spared you—just like you asked.”
