Love Letters And Cigarettes

Chapter Three

Winnie went outside to his car, opening the passengers side and getting in. He needed a moment, just a little time alone.

He took a deep breath, and looked at his glove box. Was he really going to do this? Yes, yes he was.
He hesitated as he opened it, but not for that long. He stared at the contents, a wave of shame washing over him.

He had some very, explicit things in there, things he was very ashamed of. Things he really didn't want to look at or think of, so he focused his attention on what he needed.

Amongst everything else shameful in the glove box, was a completely full cigarette pack. When he was a teenager he'd steal the same brand of cigarettes from his dad, sneaking them into his room so he had some form of relief from grades and hockey.

Winnie was extremely ashamed of it, along with everything else in the glove box.
He grabbed the cigarette pack, along with a lighter before he slammed the glove box closed.

He hated himself so much right now, for so many things.

Like the things in his glove box, his feelings for Augustine, the fact he was smoking a cigarette after he'd quit.
He had quit, he hadn't smoked a cigarette since the crash him and Augustine had been in. Which was well over two years ago.

Yet here he was, lighting one up in the passenger side of his car. God he was such a disgrace, his dad would probably be ashamed of him.

Actually no, his dad's husband would be ashamed of him. Or disappointed, one of those two.
Maybe they'd be worried about him instead? He didn't know, all he knew was that he was definitely disappointing someone.

He quickly lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips, taking a long drag off of it before he exhaled.
It didn't affect him that much, besides a bit of coughing and teary eyes. He'd been smoking since it was in fifth grade, he was used to this.

He liked the way the smoke burned his throat, and the way it made his eyes tear up slightly. He liked the pain, the type of pain he had control over.

Winnie sighed, taking another drag off the cigarette.

God, it had been way too long since he'd had one.

One drag turned into two drags, two into three, three into four, four into five, and before he knew it he was lighting a second one.

He needed the burn, to try and forget about the fact Augustine kept his letters. But he couldn't forget it, it was all he could think about.
Why did he keep them? What would he do if he knew they were from Winnie? Would he be mad, would he hate him?

Too many questions, and so many answers Winnie didn't want to know.

He was scared of what Augustine would think if he told him he wrote the letters, he couldn't exactly keep quiet about this.
He knew Augustine had his letters, but Augustine didn't know Winnie was the one who wrote them.

What was he supposed to do?

If he told Augustine that he had feelings for him, and that he'd been writing the letters, he'd probably be disgusted in him.
He'd probably never want to see him again, and would probably try to push him down the stairs again.

Okay maybe not that last one, but definitely the first.

Winnie really did love Augustine, and it terrified him. He didn't want to lose his best friend by confessing to him, he was scared of what would happen if he did.
He was scared of losing Augustine, more than anything, he was scared.

Augustine had been his best friend for over a decade now, and he'd nearly lost him during the accident. He couldn't lose him now.

Winnie sighed, looking down at the nearly finished cigarette in his hand. He glanced at his wrist, noticing how plain it looked.
He thought for a moment, about what he was planning to do, before he finally did it.

Winnie pressed the burning side of the cigarette into his wrist, wincing as he held it down. He didn't pull it away until there was a good amount of damage done, and when he did pull it away his skin was bloody and blistering.

It hurt, sure. But it wasn't like he wasn't used to the pain. He'd been hurting himself for years, he deserved the pain.

He deserved the burn.

Just as Winnie was about to grab another cigarette, Augustine had slammed his fist against the hood of the car, startling Winnie.

Augustine opened the passenger side door where Winnie was sitting, and pulled him out.
He slammed him against the car door, and right when Winnie thought he was going to yell at him or maybe even punch him- he hugged him.

Augustine hugged Winnie, his face buried against his neck. Winnie couldn't help but feel flustered, his face heating up and turning red.

He hated himself so much right now, especially since he was so flustered over a hug. Augustine would hate him if he knew, if he found out. He'd hate him, he'd have to hate him.

Augustine pulled away slightly, looking at Winnie worriedly. He gently grabbed the hand he'd burned, and looked at the wound.
"Winnie.." He muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth slightly. Winnie wanted to say something, but he couldn't. He just looked away shamefully.

Augustine took a deep breath, and gently dragged Winnie inside. He took him to the bathroom, and dug around for a first aid kit.

Which his dad didn't have, instead he had a bunch of medical supplies stuffed into a plastic bag.

Way to be organized.

Augustine grabbed the bag and dug through it, finding some burn cream and a bandaid. He gently grabbed Winnie's wrist, and used the burn cream on it before he put the bandaid on.

He didn't exactly know what to do when it came to medical stuff, but he was trying, for Winnie.
"Win.. what the hell is going on with you?" Augustine asked, looking at Winnie worriedly and confused.

Winnie looked away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "I can't tell you.. I'm sorry." He said, feeling tears prick his eyes slightly.
He looked down at his wrist, looking at the bandage on it. He was hoping looking away would hide his tears, but it just told Augustine something was definitely wrong.

"No, you're not doing this to me right now Winnie. Tell me what's going on." Augustine said, his tone was demanding and a bit harsh.
He didn't mean to sound harsh though, he was just worried about his best friend.

Winnie stayed quiet, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He felt like he was about to break, and he couldn't let that happen.

"Winnie.." Augustine started, gently grabbing Winnie's hand in his. "I need you to talk to me, please.. tell me what's going on." He said, his voice becoming a lot more quiet as he was filled with worry.

Winnie looked at him, the tears that had pricked his eyes slowly beginning to roll down his cheeks. He didn't know what to do.

Augustine looked at him, seemingly more worried than before.

"Please.. I need to know what's going on." He said, hesitantly placing a hand against Winnie's cheek.

And that's when he broke.