Papillon

Chapter 18: First

Francis

"So, are you going to tell us what the fuck is going on with you?" Damon asked as he wrapped up his last bout with Christian.

Sunday mornings were their times to beat each other up senseless, a way for Christian to take out all his energy and anger in a safe way and not go beat people up in the middle of the fucking street.

"You asking me?" Christian said, spitting his mouthguard out, panting.

"No, to the fuckhead over there who hasn't said a single word since he got here," Damon nodded his head in my direction.

I was running on the treadmill in Damon's gym/boxing ring and hadn't taken a break for nearly 50 minutes straight, so it made sense that they were a little concerned.

"Poetic," I countered, turning the machine to cool-down. My lungs ached and my calves felt strained. But that was nothing compared to the pain in my chest.

It had been two weeks since I touched Bella. Since I went to her place and let her take off my shirt. Since I snuck away in the middle of the night and didn't even leave a note, a message, or anything for her. She hadn't reached out either.

I couldn't function properly around her. I liked my shit in control, under wraps, and just right. Around Bella, nothing was. Suffocating in all her fucking pink was the worst thing that could happen to me because the one thing I had going for me–my intelligence–would diminish.

Bella made me think about the future, about possibilities of a real relationship as if I were some kind of functioning person with a normal life and childhood. As if I didn't live every day on the run. Because of her, I entertained the idea of actually committing to one person.

Trivial things like the way she held my hand, served me food, and cupped my face were on repeat in my mind. Then, there were the heated moments when I could taste her in my tongue, feel her lips on my dick, and her moans in my mouth. I craved the way she looked up at me with those sweet, submissive eyes.

My every thought was consumed by her and it was too much I couldn't even function. Naturally, my solution was that I couldn't be around her. I even got my first A- on an exam. Romanticism in the 18th century in AP Literature. How ironic.

"I have a way with words," Damon nodded, peeling his gloves off his hands and panting hard. "Seriously, the fuck is up with you?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not," Christian said dryly. "I've never seen you this riled up."

"Is Adelaide okay?" Damon asked quickly and Christian paled.

"She's fine. She's good. Nothing to worry about," I responded, knowing they'd freak the fuck out if I didn't.

Simultaneous breaths of air escaped them both and Christian made his way to change. Damon, on the other hand, walked right up to me, taking a slow drink of water. As soon as Christian was out of hearing range, he turned to me.

"Is this about Bella?"

I raised an eyebrow, about to deny it but he cut me off.

"Don't lie to me."

"She's... complicating shit."

"Complicating what?" He frowned.

I sighed. "We've been..."

"I know," he waved his hand. Fuck, I nearly forgot that I dropped Bella of at his house when we'd hooked up for the very first time. "I'm asking what she's complicating."