You better, Moony Poony. Call me tomorrow. I have studying to do
It was an invitation, at least. An improvement and a slap in the face. I had work to do. A lot of it, really. I just didn’t know how to do it while fear bubbled beneath the surface everywhere I turned, and the metal inside my chest kept creaking so loudly, I was afraid it’d break. If it broke, I was scared it’d take a piece of my heart with it. It’d take and take until there was nothing left.
Nothing but pain and evil from a past I’d never admitted to.
Neither I norEmerson’s schedules had aligned since we last saw each other. We’d officially gone an entire week without seeing each other in person, though we texted as often as we could. It was kind of weird. Nothing had changed in the way we talked, but everything had changed in our friendship. Or maybe it wasn’t a friendship anymore. Friends with benefits? I didn’t know.
We weren’t boyfriends. That much, I was sure of. At least, I thought so, anyway. I hadn’t had a boyfriend in so long, I couldn’t be sure of what to call us. Was there an “us”?
I opened the door, originally planning to keep my face steel and impassive. I failed, of course, because I’d honestly started to miss the fuck out of him. Emerson withdrawals, maybe? He’d become such a light in my life, I’d missed him when I was shrouded in the dark.
He tilted his head, grinning at me. “I’m glad to see you’ve decided to greet me properly. Can I come in?”
Rolling my eyes, I turned around and made my way to the couch. I heard the lock click as he closed and locked the door behind him. “I could be an asshole again, if you prefer.”
“No, this is fine. I like seeing you smile. Especially when you’re smiling while looking at me.”
“Don’t get so full of yourself, now.” I grabbed the remote, turning the TV on just to have some background noise. My arms pebbled with goosebumps, the apartment colder than it had been earlier. I felt more comfortable with Emerson seeing my neck than I was with the vast general public, so I was wearingshort sleeves. Instead of turning the heat on, though, I grabbed the blanket closest to me.
Emerson sat down next to me, the couch dipping as it took his full weight. “I think we’re past the full of myself part. How was your day?”
I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs in hopes it’d give a barrier to my heart. I wasn’t sure how honest I wanted to be.
“That bad?”
Turning my head, I frowned. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“You don’t have to. I can see it all over your face. And the fact that you’re thinking about it so hard usually implies it wasn’t all that great.”
“Hm.” I shook my head, sighing. “I talked to Star.”
Emerson pulled his legs up onto the couch. “Yeah? How’d that go?”
“Oh, you know. I’m too overbearing and overprotective, and apparently always have been. And then my brothers confirmed it. I get it, though. Somewhat. They made some good points. So I apologized to her, promised to back off, and I’ll be calling her tomorrow after she goes to her last class to talk.”
“She has to walk her own path, Moon. I know that’s hard to understand or accept, especially as a big brother. I’m glad she’s going to talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me too. I just feel bad. Awful, really. Like a shitty person. I worry so much, you know?” I pulled the blanket around my shoulders, hugging it tight against me. “The world is big and scary. I don’t want any of them to know just how big and scary it is, though.”
Emerson turned his head toward the TV, fully leaning against the back of the couch. “But you know just how big and scary it is, right? Someone hurt you, Jude hurt Elio, and you don’t want Star or Crescent to know how that feels.”
My lungs forgot how to function, my diaphragm completely stopping for a moment. I stared at his profile, my heart racing as I traced his beard. “What do you mean, someone hurt me?”
“That night, when you called me, you said you’ve been broken since you were fifteen. Am I wrong in assuming someone made you feel that way, or was it you who made you feel that way?”
He turned his head, locking eyes with me. I wanted to look away. I didn’t want to see that he knew me. That he’d seen into my soul, and I’d shown it to him willingly. Was I breathing faster? Or was it him? Someone was breathing faster, and my chest felt tighter. I cleared my throat and raised my head up. “No one hurt me.”
There was a pause. A beat of silence I reached out for, wanting to grasp it in my palms and tear it to shreds. I watched his lips as he spoke, watching them mouth the words almost in slow motion. “Are you lying to me, or yourself?”
To him, or to myself? To him, or to myself?I didn’t know. I never wanted to remember, but I did. I always fucking did. I could smell it. I could smell the room, hear the music—I could feel their eyes on me.
“Alright, time to get up.” Emerson stood, holding his hands out to me.
I looked up, confused. I wanted to ask him what he meant. I wanted to ask him why. But nothing came out except harsh breaths as his image in my vision started to go blurry, swimming back and forth between a time and place that didn’t exist and this one.
He leaned down slowly, grasping both my hands away from my blanket, and pulled. I went with him. I knew I did, but I couldn’t feel my body do it. Everything felt too numb, like I was walking on air rather than ground.
Emerson turned, grabbing the remote, switching it to a different channel. Music played in the background, though I couldn’t make any of it out. It seemed slow, though. He pulled my arms up and placed them on his shoulders, placing his hands on my waist. “Just move with me. Move to the beat, okay?”
