Breathless-Kellic (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty Four

Triggering

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, seeing the bruise that Mike left on my jaw. I deserved it though. I deserved a million punches to the face.

How could I shove Vic around like that? He didn't do anything wrong. And especially when I knew that he was abused!

I was the scum of earth.

I have never hated myself now than I hate myself now.

And Vic doesn't want me. He doesn't want anything to do with me. He even told me to get out of his house and that he never wanted to see me again.

I let out a sob, collapsing on the bathroom floor. How could I be so heartless? How could I be so thoughtless?

I hated myself.

I should just die.

Numbly, I stood up. I stared in the mirror for a long time before walking into my mom's room.

I knew that there was a gun in here. I had seen it plenty of times. And, lucky for me, I knew how to use one.

Robotically, I grabbed a pen and paper and started writing.

Dear Vic,

I love you, so much. I want you to know that no one will ever love you more than I love you.

I'm so sorry for putting my hands on you like that yesterday. You don't deserve that at all. I'm such a horrible person...

My dad's death wasn't your fault. It was mine; I should have listened to your warning. And it's also mine because I wanted in on your life so bad, and you tried to keep me out, but I kept trying. I'm sorry.

Don't miss me when I'm gone, please. I don't want you to feel any pain.

I love you.

See you on the other side,

Kellin

I folded it up and stuffed it in my pocket. I walked to the living room, standing in front of the TV. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, placing the barrel to my head. I was about to pull the trigger when-

"Mark Richards has been arrested today. He was charged with repeated rape and attempted murder manslaughter. His partner, Paul Jacobson, was not found yet."

I dropped the gun.

Mark was in jail.

Paul was on the run.

Vic was safe.

I sighed, looking down at the gun. Was I really going to go through with this? I should be going and apologizing to Vic, trying to get him back, not trying to attempt suicide.

I threw on a jacket and my TOMs, rushing out of my house. I was going to try and win him back.

Vic POV

"How are you feeling?" Mike asked me. I was still flinching at everything, Kellin's burst of anger finally breaking my confidence to stay strong.

"Okay," I whispered. He sighed, going to pat my arm before I flinched back. He looked hurt, but didn't take it personally.

"Alright, I'm going to go to the kitchen and eat. Yell if you need me."

I nodded and stayed in bed as he left. I was still really sore from being shoved into the couch and landing on the floor from a couple days ago. Mike said the bruises were pretty bad, and I could see the hate in his eyes. I told him not to worry about it.

But I was worried about it.

How could Kellin do that? Accuse me of something I never did? Shove me around like I was nothing? Yelling at me like I was nothing? It really hurt me.

I had to tell him to leave. I had to tell him that I didn't want to see him. If I hadn't, what would he have done to me and Mike?

"Get the fuck out! We don't want you here!"

I sat up, wondering who Mike was yelling at. My stomach dropped as I heard Kellin's voice.

"Mike! I need to make this right! He needs to know that I-"

"That you what? Love him? Well you obviously don't, since it was so easy for you to shove him around like that!"

"I do love him!"

I stood up and walked out of my room, peeking around the corner. Mike was shielding my view of Kellin, but I could see his black hair.

"I don't really think you do!"

"Mike," I said softly. They both turned around, both looking pissed off. Kellin's expression softened as soon as he saw me.

"Vic, get back in the room," Mike said calmly.

"No," I answered. "Just...let me talk to him, okay?"

Mike looked incredulous, but nodded. "Alright. I'll be in the kitchen. Holler if you need me," he said, looking at Kellin as he said that. Something told me that he would be listening to us carefully.

He left and it was just me and Kellin alone. "Hi," he said gently, stepping inside and closing the door.

I took a step back and nodded at him.

"I um...I got you this," he whispered, holding out a few roses. I nodded towards the back of the couch and he set them down. I cautiously stepped forward and snatched them before stepping back.

"Are you really that scared of me?" he asked, sounding pained. "Look Vic, I'm so fucking sorry for shoving you around like you were nothing and yelling at you like that. My father's death wasn't your fault. And I love and need you so much, it can't end here. Please don't let it end here."

He stepped forward quickly and went to reach up and touch my face. However, I panicked and flinched back, holding up my hands and whimpering. It was silent until I looked back up, seeing how pained he was.

"Oh God, I fucked up," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Vic. I'm so fucking sorry. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to have me as a boyfriend, because I'm fucking awful. You deserve someone who will treat you like you're worth the world, because you are."

"You did treat me like that, though," I said quietly.

"Yeah, before I fucked up majorly," he muttered.

"Hey," I whispered. "Don't...just don't. It'll all be okay."

I took a few steps towards him, and he didn't notice. He was too busy sobbing, his shoulders shaking and his head facing the floor. I stepped forward even more, until I was in front of him. Then I did something surprising.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him.

His arms automatically wrapped around me, holding me close. Soon, we were both crying.

"You hurt me," I whimpered, shaking. "I trusted you to never do that."

"I know," he cried. "I know I fucked up. But I love you so much. I can't bear the thought of losing you. Please take me back."

"But you might hu-hurt me."

"I swear I won't. Please Vic," he whispered. "I love you."

"I love you."

"I love you."

"I love you."

Next thing I knew, our lips were glued together, our tongues tangling in a passionate kiss. He ran his fingers through my hair, tangling his hand in my hair and holding me to him. I grabbed two fistfuls of his hair, holding him to me as close as possible. You couldn't have seperated us if you tried.

We finally pulled back after about three minutes, out of breath. We stared in each other's eyes, his filled with hope.

"So does this mean you take me back?" he whispered.

                                                                       "I think it does."