The Religious & The Damaged (UNDER EDITING)

40

Joseph

I step out of the kitchen and stop and take a step back as my eyes find Elias. I conceal myself behind a wall as Nick speaks.
"You have to get over Joseph."
My heart skips a beat—just in the wrong way, and my grasp tightens around the cup I hold.
"It's not that."
I peak my head out from behind the wall, my gaze directed downward, and I'm engrossed in their conversation.
"How do I know?"
"That you like her?"
My heart drops.
"I've only ever liked Joseph, and I was too busy before that to even have the time or energy to like anybody else, so how do I know if I'm, like.. gay or bi?"
"You just have to go for it, man." There's a pause. "It's been two months since you and Joseph broke up, and you deserve to feel fucking happy. I know you, and you haven't been since then."
My eyes flicker up at Elias; he looks down.
A rush of guilt runs through me. He's not happy because of me. Their words drown out as my mind wanders—he wants to move on; it feels like a gut punch. Part of me wants that, but the other part—as selfish as it is—wants him to myself, even though we can never be together again. The very thought of him being with someone else feels horrible; it feels worse than death.
My attention shifts back up at them as Nick speaks again.
"Let her come to you, and if it feels right, go for it."
There's a pause.
"Yeah." Another. "Okay."
I look down into my cup, then I turn and walk back into the kitchen. I dump the water out into the sink and pour alcohol into my cup instead—I don't want to think about it.

Some time passes, and it's just constant visits to the kitchen to refill my cup and sitting awkwardly on a couch as I watch the drunken kids dance and drink in front of me. And soon, I'm just as wasted as them.
I stumble into the kitchen at some point and refill my cup—I've lost count the 10th time around.
I turn and take a step back, and my breath gets caught in my throat.
"H-Hey..." Elias speaks awkwardly.
I gulp hard, my gaze leaving his briefly. "Hey..." I stammer shortly. "H-How are you?"
"Fine. I wasn't expecting to see you here."
I nod. "Kelsey dragged me here, then she disappeared."
He nods, then asks, "How are you?"
"Fine." I blink harshly as I stumble back into the counter, and I say, "I owe you an explanation." I clear my throat. "And.. and an apology."
"Okay..." His response sort of drags out, like he realizes how drunk I am.
I blink a few times to clear my vision and hopefully—my mind as I stare at him.
"It's been a rough couple of months and.. and I wasn't fair to you. I never gave you a reason, and I see that it's stopping you.. from.." I clear my throat again as my gaze falls. "From moving on.. or at least, I- you know.." I shake my head. I'm getting off track.
"It wasn't fair to you." I say, and I gesture towards him. "And I'm sorry."
There's a long silence, or as quiet as it can get, and he asks, "Why did you end things with me? Was it me?"
"No, I-"
My eyes dart around the room—anywhere but at him, really.
I'm definitely too drunk for this conversation right now.
My eyes shut tight as I shake my head a single time. "It was me." I say. "Something happened to me and it wouldn't have been fair to you that I drag you down with me."
"..What happened?"
I look up to meet his gaze. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out, then it just slips out. "M-My father, he.." I exhale shakily. "He.. he took me to this place and.. and then he.." I struggle with the words—I can't say it; I can't say the word, and dancing around it seems impossible.
I feel like I'm about to throw up.
Suddenly, Elias takes my hand and guides out of the room and through the crowd. I subconsciously wipe at my eyes with my sleeve, and that's when I realize I'm crying.
It's probably why Elias pulled me out of the center of the party.
We walk up the stairs. His hand doesn't leave mine as he peers into every room until he finds one empty, and he leads me in. He turns away to close the door, and when he turns back, I act impulsively. I kiss him; my hands against his cheeks.
I don't know why I do this. Maybe, I'm far too drunk to think properly, but I can't help but acknowledge how much I've missed it—his lips against mine, and it feels so right.
He pulls back quickly. "What-"
"I miss you, Elias. I never wanted to let you go, but he made me. It kills me that I hurt you." I speak in a slurred, frantic manner, but he seems to still understand me because of the fragile look on his face and his noticeable grasp on my sweater. "I want you back."
He exhales shakily, and his lips meet mine again. I pull him closer; my hands planted against his back, and our lips move in some sort of quick rhythm, like we've spent a thousand centuries apart. That's how it felt to me.
He leans back against the wall—my only indication is the thump as his back makes contact, and it's barely audible over the sound of muffled music behind the door. My hands reach up into his hair and I break away from his lips to leave frantic kisses along his neck, and the intoxicating scent of him fills my nostrils—the smell I've missed so much; the smell that disappeared from my pillows months ago.
I kiss his jaw, then his lips. His grasp tightens on my sweater. I lean back and tug off his, and he takes off mine. My arms wrap around his torso as I step back and fall into a sitting position on the bed when the back of my legs hit the end of the bed, and he sits on my lap, his hands lost in my hair and his lips against my neck. A slight gasp slips from lips when he grinds against me.
My mind becomes a flood of memories, but I think I'm too drunk to actually care because it doesn't seem to bother me as much as it would if I was sober, in fact, what we're doing feels right and not like how I felt before. It feels right.
The sound of a belt unbuckling breaks me from my mind, and I'm not sure if it's mine or his, but I reach out and unbuckle whoever's isn't, and I kiss him more.