Behind Closed Doors ✔️

47

Antony giggles from beside me, his head resting on my shoulder. I swallow my nerves, subconsciously running my fingers through the back of his hair, and he hums quietly, his eyes closing. "Antony." I speak softly, and he lifts his head a little.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you at my house?" I asked him, and he stopped walking. His hands were on my shoulders all of a sudden and he was turning me around to face him. Then, we stood opposite each other in the middle of the street with only the sound of a distant dog barking to disrupt us.

"Because..." He blinked slowly, his hands carefully travelling up to my neck. "I missed you very much." He admitted, and my breath hitches as I stare at him. His eyes don't lose mine. They flicker between both, and it has some sort of trance on me. "I've missed you every day." He adds, and my heart crashes against my body.

"Antony-"

"I don't wanna get married." He grimaces suddenly, like the whole thing disgusts him. "Especially not to some whore- I don't even like girls." His grimace deepens. "I like you, but I can't have you, and it's been stressing me out, you know? I feel like... like my dad hates me and that's why he's making me do this. He's making me marry this bitch because he's a bastard who hates me and hates his entire family and couldn't give a shit about anyone except himself." He snaps, suddenly angry.

Then, he shocks me. He completely takes my breath away and I have no idea what to do. I watch as a tear slips out of his eye and down his cheek and he begins to laugh. He doesn't wipe it away. He just... laughs. His lips stretch out into a grin as he laughs and cries. My heart aches for him, for this awful position that his father has put him in.

"I won't fucking touch her, I told him that." He grits, his hands gripping my jacket. "I told him that she won't shag the gay out of me because I won't fucking let her. I won't let her get close enough to me to... they can't force me to forget you, Theo, they can't." He cries, and I'm freaking out. My heart is freaking out and my insides are burning and I'm suddenly pulling him in for a hug.

At that moment, neither of us cared that we were in public. Neither of us cared that we were in a dangerous neighbourhood and neither of us cared because all we needed was each other. All we wanted was each other, and we may never get that, but in this moment, right here, was the closest we would get to having each other.

I pulled him closer to me, my hands on the back of his neck as he cried into my shoulder, soaking my coat. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything except him. This broken, vulnerable man in my arms who refused to show any emotion until now. He clings onto me desperately, and I feel his cold, wet lips on my neck and hands all over my back. His body shakes in my arms. I almost breakdown, right there.

It takes all my power not to shed a tear, and I clench my jaw, trying to be strong for the both of us. Antony may make it seem as though he's able to flawlessly, effortlessly, carry all this weight, but he can't. Neither of us can, and we need to lean on each other to carry that burden.

Antony is like nobody else in this world. When I'm with him, it's like I'm being split in half. Part of me is on fire, going crazy if I'm not touching him, and the other half is calm and peaceful. Perfectly content. I can't let him go. I was never able to, and I certainly can't let him go tomorrow when he gets married. I don't know why I thought I could. I don't know why I convinced myself I'd have the strength to do it, when I won't. I know I won't. Antony knows I won't.

"Antony." I try to pull him off me, and I lift my hands to his face, wiping his tears. He blinks at me, his eyes flickering all over my face. Antony's lip twitch up slightly, and I gently rested my palms on his face, my thumb slowly drawing circles on his skin.

"You're so beautiful, you know?" He murmurs, stumbling towards me a little and lightly slapping my cheek a few times. His hands are on my shoulders and I hold his face a little tighter. I don't think I was breathing. "Ever since I first saw you, I've always found you beautiful." He admits, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. Antony first saw me when I was eleven. It was the first time I'd been at the flat after Fernanda invited me back after school. It's been six years.

"You have?" I frowned, and he quickly nodded his head, his eyebrows raised. Then, his eyes slowly begin to drop and I remember that we're in the middle of the street, and I need to get him home. "Come on, Antony." I grunt, wrapping my arm around his waist and dragging him along.