Saint was hyperventilating. His blood was boiling. He recapped the situation a million times in his head. Perth rejected him. Perth didn't want him. The more he thought about it, the more he felt sick. He laid down in his bed, and looked at the ceiling, replaying it in his mind over and over, and still couldn't believe he was rejected.
No one had ever done that to him. He had always been in control of these kinds of situations with all of his lays. As he thought about it more and more he couldn't help but end up at the conclusion that he wouldn't have felt the same if any other of his previous lovers would've rejected him.
He just couldn't bare the thought of Perth not wanting him.
Saint scowled at the thought and squeezed his eyes shut, recalling when Perth was under him at this very bed. The warmth of his skin, the way Perth's eyes fluttered every time Saint touched him. The way he had shivered every time Saint nibbled on his skin. His smell.
All those times before Saint had wanted Perth, his husband had taken everything Saint would give him. If he hadn't been so damaged inside of his head he would have taken Perth a long time ago. But he couldn't. Not now. Not ever.
Was this the way Perth had felt since the first time Saint had shoved him away telling him he didn't want him? Was this the way Perth' heart broke time after time? Was this the way Perth felt that night Saint told him to get out of his room?
The very thought of it made his skin prickle and hate himself even more than he did. Saint had been abusive towards him, so many times his head hurt even more when he thought about counting them. He swallowed harshly when he recalled that one time Perth had thought Saint would hurt him physically. Even if Saint had been, still is, a monster he would have never done that.
Perth didn't deserve it. Perth didn't deserve Saint for a husband, but they were married and Saint was selfish enough to never let him go. Ever. He needed Perth. The reason why he felt like that was foreign to him. Or maybe he didn't want to accept it. Maybe if he pretended those feelings weren't there they would actually go away eventually.
But why had his heart stopped beating when he saw Perth and that douche hugging? The only thing he had wanted to do when he had witnessed the scene in front of him was to rip Perth apart from his arms and kiss him to show Blue who's Perth was.
He felt a flame burning inside of him recalling each word of Blue, his amused face when he told Saint about knowing his situation, and going out with Perth. As if Blue was challenging him. But it wasn't a challenge. Perth was already his. He didn't want Perth so he could show Blue he was better than him. He wanted Perth because the younger lad deserved the best. Saint wasn't the best, but if Perth would give him the chance he would show him how good Saint could be to the boy.
Another chance though would never come again as it seemed from today's happenings. Perth didn't want him! Not anymore! The pang in his heart grew even more, because he knew this wasn't Blue's fault. It was his owns. He himself had dragged Perth and him into this circus.
The frustration and humiliation he had felt when Perth hadn't kissed him back, was even worse than Saint's previous bad events. That feeling had been worse than everything, even than his past.
Abruptly Saint got up, a groan of frustration spilling out of his lips. He placed his hand on top of his chest where his heart was placed. He felt his heartbeat raise. His heart felt as if someone was stabbing it and then chopping it with bare hands, throwing the remaining pieces everywhere, where Saint couldn't gather them and stitch them all together again.
Mean had been right. Not that Saint would admit it to him personally, but deep down he knew Mean had been right. He recalled the day Mean had told him so, but Saint hadn't listened to him, too deep in his own black holes of his mind to do so.