Finding Peace

I Want You

As Jude started moving away, fear evident in his eyes, Clay quickly grabbed him and held him in place. "Don't. Don't try to run away from me," he said firmly, gripping Jude's arm tightly. "You seriously think I'm going to leave you alone now and let you go after you told me that?" His voice was filled with desperation and frustration.

"Please... just show me," Clay pleaded, his tone softer but laden with desperation. "Please don't make me worry about you more than I already have to. I just want to make sure that you're okay. Please, just show me..."

Jude's eyes were filled with fear. "Clay... not right now. I... I need to be prepared."

Clay's frustration grew, but he fought to keep his emotions in check. "How... how long are you going to wait until you're 'prepared'?" he asked quietly, his tone strained.

"I don't know but not today," Jude replied, his voice trembling.

Clay sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Damn it." he muttered before looking at Jude again. "You'd better show me soon. Don't you dare keep putting it off or I'm going to get really pissed off." His tone was almost commanding, and his grip tightened again.

Jude looked down at his lap, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry. I think you should dissolve this and go get a... normal partner."

Clay's face fell, his lips forming a tight frown. "The hell are you talking about, dumbass?" he snapped, his voice sharp with hurt and anger. "Normal partner? Why would I want a 'normal' partner when I already want you?"

"I'm short, scrawny, scarred... ugly. " Jude said, his voice filled with self-loathing. "You don't want to come back tired from work just to see an even more pathetic sight in front of you, Clay."

As Jude's words echoed in the room, Clay's heart felt like it had been torn apart. He struggled to process the sheer pain and self-loathing behind those words. He wanted to argue back to everything the boy said. Short? He's perfect. Scrawny? Pretty as hell. Scars? Hot, honestly. He felt the urge to shout and yell at Jude, to tell him how wrong he was about himself. How could he think that about himself? How could he think I'd want anyone else but him? Clay's chest tightened, his mind racing. He wanted to scream, to shake Jude and make him see how much he meant to him, how he was the only one who mattered. The thought of Jude pushing him away, thinking he was a burden, cut deeper than any physical pain. "You're not a burden," Clay thought fiercely, gripping his arm. "You're everything to me, and I'm not going anywhere."