The Religious & The Damaged (UNDER EDITING)

41

Elias

I glance back into the room as I leave, and Joseph's sound asleep on the bed. I adjust my hoodie around my neck as I shut the door, and I head into the main room of my apartment. The sound of a long groan in the living room brings me to a halt as I stand in the doorway of the kitchenette, and I turn. Nick looks over at me from where he slumps on the couch, then he sits up—ruffling his hair carelessly.
"Thanks for letting me crash. Mom would've murdered me if I came home shitfaced."
I smile. "Don't mention it."
He blinks at me, a sort of blank expression on his face, but he still holds a tired look.
He says, "You let him stay over too."
"His dad would've killed him too, except literally." I reply, and he scoots down the couch so I can sit next to him.
"Then why get wasted? I was surprised to see him there."
"Kelsey dragged him."
"Kelsey? I thought she was sick."
I shrug. "She probably needed a break too, and he said that things were getting bad these past couple months."
His brows raise. "So you talked to him, then?" He asks.
I break eye contact briefly. "Sort of."
"Sort of? The fuck does that mean?"
My gaze falls, and I feel as heat rises to my cheeks at the events that took place last night; and my heart races.
"Holy shit." I look at him. "You two totally had sex last night, didn't you?"
I blush more, and I look away briefly as I say, "It was just.. hand stuff. He was really drunk last night."
"So, are you guys back together now or what?"
I look down.
I haven't thought about that. I mean, I hope we are, but it's something we should talk about together.
I smile nervously at Nick and shrug my shoulders. "He's just been sleeping. We haven't had a chance to talk about it."
He smiles at me, but it seems sympathetic—and I'm not sure why.
"Well, good luck, man. I'm gonna split and catch some more z's before school." He stands. "I'm not coming til lunch. Fuck that."
I laugh shortly. "See you later, Nick."
He waves half-heartedly at me before he heads out the door, and my gaze turns to my bedroom door—just in my sight from where I sit.
The sheer realization that he might not want to get back together; that last night was just a drunken mistake to him—it settles in my mind, and I feel a grip on my heart that only he can relieve, but what if he doesn't?
A shaky breath slips from my lips, and it's followed by another. I stand.
I'll just have to ask.
I walk into the kitchen, where I fill up a glass with water, and I return to my room.
Joseph's still asleep; he's facing me, and the peaceful expression underneath all the swelling and bruises brings relief to my anxiety. I drop to my knees in front of him and take a hand from the glass and rub his forearm gently.
"Hey..." I speak, softly.
My gaze falls to his arm as his sleeve rides up as I rub his arm, and for a brief second I think I see something, but he quickly sits up, and my gaze follows him.
"What time is it?" He asks, frantically, but his voice still sounds groggy.
"7." I answer. "I brought you water. I figured you would need it."
He looks at me, then at the glass I gesture to him. He takes it.
"Thanks." He says.
I move to sit next to him on the bed as he drinks like it's the first time he's drank in weeks, and I ask, "Do you remember last night?" A hint of hesitation is audible in my voice. He stares down into the glass wordlessly, and my heart begins to race again. "I guess, I was just wondering if we were-"
"Last night was a mistake, Elias."
I look up at him from my fiddling hands in my lap, and my heart sinks—but it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would because I was expecting that.
I look down. "Oh."
"Things can't be how they were before. Things are different. I'm different." He says. I look back up at him, and from the little view I get of his face, he looks panicked and hurt by his own words. He continues. "You deserve better than me."
My brows furrow upward as a rush of hurt and simultaneously confusion runs through me.
I ask, "Shouldn't that be my decision to make?"
"Not when I've been so unfair to you, and I know you would never admit that." He looks at me. "It's one of the things I love most about you." I look down, my eyes unfocused as I process his words. "I meant what I said." I look up. He smiles, and I know it's supposed to be a reassuring smile, but he just looks so sad. And it makes me sad. "It was me, not you. And you should feel okay to move on. You deserve to be happy and be treated better than how I've been treating you."
I gulp hard. "But what if I only want to be happy with you?" I ask.
His lips curl downward as he shakes his head barely. "I can't, Elias." He says. "I can't." He repeats, his voice sad and so full of emotion.
A shaky breath slips from my nose as I blink away tears, and my gaze falls and darts around my lap—I don't want him to see me cry for some reason; it feels wrong.
"Do you even still like me? I mean," I shake my head lightly. "Did last night mean anything to you? At all?"
"I was drunk, I barely remember what I was wearing last night-"
"No bullshit." I look in his direction—my brows furrowed lightly. "If you really want nothing to do with me after this, fine, but at least give me the closure that I'm not losing my mind, you rem-"
"Last night means more than you know." He interrupts me. Relief washes over me. "But.. it can only be that; it can't happen again."
"I wish you'd just tell me why..." I look at him, and he looks just as distraught as I imagine I look. "I've only ever wanted to help you." I say. Tears fill his eyes. "I'd never look at you differently, no matter what you tell me." I make sure to reassure him.
He looks down, a sort of look of defeat on his face as he says, "It's bigger than us; than me or you. I barely make it through just an hour of the day because of it."
"That doesn't scare me, Joseph." I reply, a hint of disbelief in my voice—it's like he doesn't know me at all.
I reach out and touch his hand, but he tugs away from me. "Please, don't touch me."
"Joseph..."
"I have to go, anyway."
He stands.
"Joseph."
"Thanks for letting me stay, but just remember what I said."
"Joseph-"
He leaves. I stare at the door, a blank look on my face as the feeling sinks in; this is it. That's the end.