Finn's Secret

Last Part

Finn had a crush on Chris since the first day they met. It was as if their souls were fused together, their bodies mere vessels carrying the flame of their unrequited love. He remembered the first time he saw Chris, walking into the room with a grace that could only belong to an angel descending from heaven. Chris had a way of making even the simplest of actions seem ethereal, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings or the soft caress of a summer breeze. Finn would often find himself lost in thought, daydreaming about what it would be like to be with Chris, to feel their warm breath against his skin, to lose himself in those deep, soulful eyes.

But Finn knew he couldn't stay here. Not if his secret was going to come out. It was always the same. He would have to leave, to find someplace where he could be himself, where he didn't have to constantly look over his shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knew he couldn't stay and watch Chris from afar, wishing for something that could never be. It would only break his heart all over again.

No, Finn decided. He would leave tonight, while everyone was asleep. He would sneak out the back door, disappear into the night like a ghost, and never look back. It was the only way to protect Chris, the only way to keep their memories pure. He didn't want to taint them with the reality of their situation.

As Finn opened the door to the hospital room, he was met with the familiar gaze of his friend, Chris. He had thought he could escape, but Chris was always one step ahead. The two men exchanged silent glances, their expressions a mixture of anger, fear, and determination. Finn tried to dash past Chris, but his friend was quick to react, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back. They struggled for a moment, their bodies slamming against the walls and the floor.

Finally, they both ended up on the ground, Chris on top of Finn, pinning his hands above his head with one of his own. The other hand was pressed firmly against Finn's mouth, silencing his pleas for release. Finn felt the weight of Chris' body pressing down on him, making it difficult to breathe. "You really thought you could just walk away from this, didn't you?" Chris asked, his voice barely audible through Finn's ringing ears.

Finn struggled beneath Chris, his body tense with the effort to throw off his friend's imposing weight. But Chris seemed to have an iron grip, and Finn couldn't break free. "Let me go!" he managed to grunt out between Chris' fingers.

"Why?" Chris asked, his voice cold and calm. "Why did you really try to leave?" He leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart, and Finn could see the confusion etched into Chris' features. "You know this is where you belong, Finn. You know we're family."

Finn struggled against his friend's grip, the pain in his wrists growing intense. "I can't be part of this anymore," he wheezed out, feeling the pressure of Chris' hand against his mouth. "I can't live like this."

Chris' eyes narrowed, and his expression hardened. "You think you can just walk away from us?" he asked, his voice tight with anger. "You think you can just leave everything behind?" He shifted his weight, pinning Finn down even further, and the breath was forced from his lungs. "You're part of us, Finn. You always have been. We've been through too much together."

As Finn struggled beneath Chris, he felt a stabbing pain in his side. He tried to ignore it, but the sensation grew more intense with each passing second. He looked up at Chris, pleading with his eyes to understand. "It's not that," he wheezed. "It's not you. It's just... I can't do this anymore."

Chris' expression softened slightly. "I know it's hard, Finn. I know you're scared. But we can get through this together." He reached down with his free hand and stroked Finn's cheek gently. "We can make it right."

Finn looked into Chris' eyes, searching for any hint of sincerity. He wanted to believe him, but the weight of their shared past pressed down on him like a leaden blanket. "I don't think it can ever be right," he whispered. "Not after what I've done."