Kiss Me (yaoi / boyxboy)

Chapter 26

Drake

There's a crack in the bathroom mirror. It runs through the glass, a vein distorting the picture it reflects. My head hurts and I stare at the rust coloured flakes of blood littering my forehead. I can't remember what happened... I was too drunk. Too empty to feel anything. Too ashamed to remember everything I've done.
I twist the taps on and wait as the pipes groan in protest for the water to finally begin running over my hands. The water's cold, almost as much as the air in the flat but I'm grateful for it's ability to calm the unrelenting throbbing. My hands are worse than my head; all covered in cuts, scrapes and patches of purple bruising- little souvenirs from last night.
Fucking hell, I must've been angry.
I scrub them roughly, wincing and cursing as I press a little too hard on the broken skin.

"How did you know?"

"I'm sorry, Drake... For having a go at you and everything."

I flinch, shutting my eyes from the guilt that the memory of those words holds. Don't think about it, I tell myself, you have nothing to feel bad about.

I open my eyes, looking at the face staring back at me. Eyes framed with dark exhaustion, hair in need of a shower, a five o'clock shadow and blood that I wasn't even sure belonged to me. And all of it cracked and threatening to shatter at any moment.

"What am I going to do?" I groan aloud, the words grating over the dryness of my throat. Nothing to feel bad about? Who the hell am I kidding? I've purposefully ruined someone's happinness and for what? To make him mine?
How will that even happen now? He's so hung up on Eli, that git who just messes him around and then fucks off whenever it suits him.

"Why aren't you at school?"

A gruff voice makes me look jump and look up, meeting the stern gaze of my aunt Jess in the mirror.

"'S Liberation Day."

She curses, "That'll explain why I can't even buy a damn packet of fags."

When I don't reply, she walks over to lean on the narrow stretch of wall next to the sink, resting her head on the edge of the mirror.

"You okay?"

I nod.

"You're covered in blood."

Again, I only nod. She puffs out her cheeks in a sigh and stares at the ceiling. I wet the edge of a towel I'd plucked from the floor and use it to start working on the blood on my face.

"You got any fags?"

I dig silently in my pocket, revealing a nearly empty pack. She smiles and thanks me, holding them but to my mild surprise, not even taking one out yet.

"Who's the lucky girl then?"

I raise an eyebrow, stilling in the rough scrubbing of my face, "What're you talking about?"

Jess smiles, "The girl you're head over heals for."

"What?"

"The girl-"

"Why do you even think there's someone I like?"

She rolls her eyes, her voice adopting a deep tone, "What am I going to do? Those aren't the words of the little shit of a nephew I hate to love."

"Oh gee, thanks for hating me."

"Hate to love, you plonker. There's a difference." She mutters something else before snatching the towel from my hands and taking over my futile scrubbing.

"Grey."

"Huh?"

"They're..." I release a shaky breath and grip the sides of the sink for desperate support, "He's called Grey."