A Foreign Love Song (Jake Bateman x Johnnie Guilbert)

10: Johnnie

A/n: Alright people there's gotta be a little time skip or else this thing is gonna get really boring and drag on forever. So it's now been one month since Jake moved in with Johnnie. 

I'll admit to it, I have enjoyed having Jake around. When he first came, I felt like he practically had me on twenty-four-seven surveillance. That got really annoying really quickly. But after a while, he eased up a bit. We've become friendlier around each other, which has done nothing but further manifest my small crush on him. I know the feeling isn't mutual though, so I'll keep my mouth shut. 

Jake stood at the front door with his hand on the doorknob. "I'm gonna go and get coffee. Do you want anything?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Right then. I'll be back."

I hated that his 'therapy' was working though. He forced me to be more social with several of my friends, and made sure that I went out somewhere at least three to four times a week. In this last month, I've made no attempts at hurting myself either. And, dare I say it? He also forced me to talk about feelings. I shuttered at the thought. Not that I was the kind of guy who was like 'fuck this I have no soul,' but I still didn't want to talk about them. Not to Jake anyway. It just so happens that I'm afraid of slipping up and telling him something he's not supposed to know. 

When Jake did return, he called through the house despite the fact that I'd heard the door shut. "I'm back!" This activity had become both too mundane and too reassuring.

"Fantastic!" I replied sarcastically. Granted, I was a little happy to be in his company once again. Loneliness is confusing like that. It consumes you until you hate the human race and all parts of it, but once it's gone, the last thing you want is its return. Either that, or somehow Jake has intoxicated me with poison. 

It occurred to me two weeks ago that Jake gave me the most attention, and possibly affection in a way that could be perceived as a little more that friendly, when I was in a terrible position. Between phases of depression and needing the stitches in my palm, I cannot think of times where he was closer to me both physically and emotionally. If I pretended to be in a terrible mood just to gain more of this affection, would it be so wrong? 

And I didn't have to try very hard, because Jake had read my sarcasm as the previously mentioned mood. We'd long since moved past the whole 'what's wrong?' conversation though. Instead of asking why I was in a bad mood, he simply acknowledged that I was. Then he simply sought to magically morph my sadness into happiness, no matter how long it took. 

The only downside to this belief is that I've probably worried him. In the last two weeks, I pretended to be in a worse position that I really was. If anything, he probably thinks I'm damn near close to suicidal at this point. 

He frowned as he came over to me. He took a position next to me on the couch, moving so close that our hips and thighs were touching. I didn't even have to force myself to look sad, it just happened naturally at this point. Kind of frightening, I know. "Maybe you need to see someone about this," Jake thought allowed. "It just keeps getting worse."

"No!" I shut down this idea quickly. "I don't want to see anyone."

"I don't know how else to help you. I can't keep you under guard for that long, you know that. I feel like every time I walk away, you're in a bad mood again."

I blinked several times, trying my best to bring tears to my eyes. I thought the darkest things that I could, which was unfortunate. The darkest things I could think really did make me want to hurt myself. Worthless. He doesn't care about you. Why are you lying to him? He doesn't need to be tricked to know you're pathetic. In that single moment of vulnerability, I slipped up. "I wanna go out with you," I whined, my voice getting really small and quiet on the last few words. 

"What?" Jake moved away from me quickly. "You-? Johnnie, you're just lonely." He shook his head. 

"I'm not just lonely!" The secret was out now, may as well carry this thing out until the end. "I need someone in my life like that. Desperately. And I want that person to be you."

"N-no. You don't want that person to be me." He stood up now. "Trust me."

"Don't leave me!" I pleaded. "I really am depressed now."

"You always have been. I just don't think I can be here right now." He raced out of the room rather quickly, and my heart sunk to my toes. How could he do this to me? After all that had happened? All that insistence on keeping me from hurting myself? And then he does this? 

I went to the bathroom, knowing what was to come next. I'd already drummed up the thoughts, and Jake had given me all of the motivation that I needed. I found the hidden razor blade I'd kept, rolled up my sleeve, and started dragging it across my arm. Quick. Furious. Line after line sprang up, faster than I could think. Blood ran down my arm onto the rug near the sink, and coated my fingers in a thin film. After the damage had been done, almost forty thin lines later, I carefully placed the blade back where it belonged. In its hiding spot. Oh, would Jake be disappointed. 

I felt a sickening feeling of happiness fill me as I watched the blood cover my left forearm. The lines just kept bleeding. In that moment, my friend found me. "Johnnie!" Jake shouted, catching sight of my arm. "I left you alone for ten minutes! How could you go and pull a stunt like this?"

I didn't have an answer.