Eventually

Chapter Eight

A.N. Haven't updated this in a while, so I decided that it was about time I graced you with what I think is the sweetest chapter so far. Xoxo, my darlings. Clay.

Chapter Eight

14th June 1999 - Frederick Pepper 

Something had just happened. Ruptured. We didn't feel the same anymore, like ourselves. It wasn't just around each-other, either. It was most of the time now, like we'd changed, like we were tiptoeing around life trying to keep things just the way that they were. No one really wants anything to change, because you're so used to things just how they are, you don't like the chaos. But when the chaos comes and it rips your life apart like a vicious hurricane, it forces you to change, to see things differently.

For the first time, I was seeing Arthur through a different eye. It was almost like an outer body experience, but at the same time, I felt like a little chaos was good. Change can be for the better, it was just more often for the worst. It was something inside of him, something that happened, maybe something that I did. I didn't know. I couldn't work it out, I couldn't understand him.

I couldn't tell if he could even sense the change, if he was forcing it, if he wanted things to stay the same. I can't pretend to squeeze into Arthur's mind and know how he ticks, but I know him like the back of my hand. I know his mannerisms, I know his thought processes, his flaws, his insecurities, I know his entire world. Or, at least I used to, before the change.

Now I feel like he's a stranger to me, my own best friend. When he looks at me, it doesn't feel like it used to. I only saw something else, hiding in the shadows of his pupils, and I'd convinced myself that I knew exactly what it was.

The only problem was that it was the last thing I'd expect from Arthur Valgari, hater of everyone and everything ever. The most cynical piece of shit I'd ever met. The cuntiest cunt to ever roam the valley of the cunts - a permanent resident of the Dominicunt Republic, a vacationer to Madagascunt, born and raised in Cuntenhagen, Or Vaticunt City, or Port-aux-Cunt - you get what I mean. He was a cunt, and I can't do puns very well.

Arthur just didn't grow attached to people like I did, he doesn't even like people. He ignores people. He despises people. He rants and bitches about them behind their backs. The thought had never occurred to me before, but what if he did the same to me? Or if he didn't, what did he say about me? In any case, I always got the intense feeling that Arthur didn't just generally dislike people, but that he never even really liked women, like his whole heart hadn't been in any of his past relationships.

If I was being honest, I'd considered it thousands of times that Arthur may not be into women, he may be into men. And that would be fine with me.

It's not that I'd seen him staring at super hot fit guys, or that I'd caught him wanking to super hot gay porn, he just never really showed any signs that he was gay, other than that he didn't like women. But he didn't like anyone, and it isn't even safe to assume that because he doesn't like women that he likes men. He could have been asexual for all I knew, but he loves sex, he craves sex. If anything, sex is one of the few reasons why he's always hopping from relationship to relationship. He lives for sex, he worships sex - after all, is there any man in this wretched world who doesn't?

Everyone questions themselves, though, and I was always thinking that maybe I didn't like what everyone else liked. I'd had girlfriends, I'd been in a sort of weird threesome. I was pretty open-minded, right? I could fuck Arthur, couldn't I? I could find the courage to pounce onto him, then pounce into him, and if need be, let him pounce into me. Not that I was into it, or that I wanted it, dreamed of it. Just, the thought that I could do it. If I wanted to, I could force myself. Maybe I'd even enjoy it.