roommates; solangelo

044

I stay sitting on the floor, hugging my shirt close to my chest. All I can manage to do is try and process what just happened. I thought he was good. I thought he just wanted to help, why would he do that? He knew I wasn't in a good place, but he still...

I wiped my face and began running down the hall, not caring for the fact my shirt was still off and my face red. I ran down the hall until I saw someone outside of their door. It was an old lady, around 80. I ran up to her hurriedly. "Did you see a man walk out this way? Tall? Asian? Resembling Daniel Radcliffe,"

"My dear, what's happened?" She asked in a southern accent, I tried to keep my voice steady before replying.

"He- He's a - well not rapist...was it rape? I don't know, but I said no, and he didn't get off! We need to get someone to get him! What if he does it again, but doesn't get pushed off!"

"Hunny, you weren't raped," She laughed lightly, still fiddling with her key.

"Wha-?" I asked, out of breath, my cheeks stained with tears. "I know, it wasn't right though, we need to stop it, can I borrow your phone,"

"Hun, I'm sure you wanted it," She laughed. "You seem to be a healthy young man, you would have been fine,"

"B- But," I said, my breath uneven. "He - you weren't there, I just got out of a relationship, I - please, we need to try and get him,"

"I think you're drunk, go back home and get some sleep, you're fine, now, leave me be, silly," She said, opening her door, walking in, and leaving me in the hallway, staring at the door. No one was going to believe me. I needed someone to help me get him. I need to. I need to.. I need... No one will believe me... I'll just go home.

I walk back to my apartment, keeping my breath as even as possible. I couldn't breath. I felt like there was a belt around my chest. It wasn't rape? Was it? No one else would think that. I mean, rape for guys wasn't common? It's never in the headlines. The old lady didn't believe me. Maybe it was just nothing?

I walk back into my apartment and take a look around. It seemed so empty now. All of Will's things were gone, and I couldn't even manage taking a glance into his old room. I just cried, hugging my chest with the door locked as I noticed the small things gone. Random paintings, his bright yellow raincoat that was hanging by the door, gone. And just little things he always left around were gone, used coffee mugs, his laptop bag, chargers, everything that brought me joy basically, was gone.

I was ugly crying, holding myself, my shirt still not on, but caught between my chest and arms. I sat down on the couch and closed my eyes. Things were getting so good. I had Will and I was happy, and then my dad, and he got sick, and everything went downhill.

I got up, wanting to wash all of it away, and walked into the bathroom. I didn't spare a glance in the mirror because I knew I would be disgusted, so I threw my shirt on the ground and turned on the water, letting it heat up before taking off the rest of my clothes.

I let the hot water roll down my back, I didn't make any effort towards my hair, or putting on my usual soap, scented of vanilla, instead, I just stood there in the hot water, processing everything that has happened in the last few months.

Dammit. I missed Will. I missed him so so much. Why did I break up with him? Why? We could have made it, we could have worked something out. I could have just, visited him instead of him coming home to me, I could have helped him, and stayed with him, fuck I'm so dumb.

I continue in the hot water, thinking of all the ways I messed up, then thinking of what just happened. Why would Henry do that? It was really messed up. I had said no? Right? I tried, I pushed, he should have known.