Borderline

chapter fifteen.

So I'm sick???

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"I need you to leave", he said, and pushed something solid and little into my hand he was holding, not breaking eye contact with me, even as he lightly shoved me away, making me drop my arms against my sides heavily, and I was keenly aware of how his eyes held a kind of edge that cut right through my senses, and it stung.
Stung at the sound of his words and the meaning implied behind them and his prompt decision that maybe hadn't been prompt at all and was actually thought over all this time, and this incident was a trigger to that action and I had to face it now. But I didn't want to, never wanted to. So I had to brush it off, like always.

"N-No." My lips felt chapped and thin and weak and the desert in my throat had gotten drier and I cleared my throat, said "No, I won't. I will never. So s-stop trying to make me...stop telling me to leave when you know I won't, not in the way you want t..." 

"Lance", he interrupted, his voice placid but his face the opposite. I could immediately see how his irises narrowed once again, and how every feature of his turned sharper. His fists clenched. "I'm asking you calmly now. Leave, before you'll really trigger me and I'll do something I'll regret." The fire cracked violently, and I wanted to tell it to shut up, to shut up for just a moment so i could hear my own thoughts but instead I yelled,

"NO, for the thousand time, NO! Just get that through your thick skull! I. won't. LEAVE!" It would be a miracle if I didn't break down and cry, right now, right in front of him, turn into a weeping mess and never get my point across, never making him understand. But would I prevail over him even if I didn't cry? Would he actually take his time to try and understand? "Because you know what will happen then? We will be separated enough for you to not being able to bear it anymore and you will come back, you will come back again and we'll make up again and promise to find a way to be able to secretly visit each other and then something like this will happen again and you will yell at me to leave again and then we're back at zero. It will turn into a never ending cycle of complications and I don't want that! So quit telling me to leave because I won't! Won't ever!"

I watched as his expression changed from different kinds of exasperation, how he muttered something under his breath in a rumbling tone, turning his head to the side and growling, showing up two very white and sharp fangs. He swore, and I know I had hit right in his heart, picked on the truth he wanted so bad to put kibosh on. I had managed to say just the right thing, and this was my little victory, but whether he would admit to it or not, that was another cup of tea. 

"I know that's true...", he eventually said, and his voice was low and gravelly when he spoke, and he looked up at me with those catlike eyes from under his bangs and his chest heaved as if he was running while speaking. "I have a weak will, you know that. I say things I don't want to happen and it's only after that I realize that I can't stand it anymore and I'm always too weak to keep myself away from you and that's why we always end up like this..." He threw out his arms, as if to gesticulate around in the cave, to the little space between us. "...in this endless cycle of complications who neither of us wants but my wills are too poor to stop it." Now he looked up completely at me, determination in his stare. "That's why I need you to facilitate this for us. I need you to leave, because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to you, would never forgive myself if anything happened to you." 

My heart squeezed itself, and my chest tightened in a way that made my breath hollow, like my lungs had shrunken and couldn't carry all the oxygen properly anymore. I knew that it was unwise of me to let his words get to me, to affect me in any way possible, but could you blame me? I was just that patsy. No, not patsy, just that open for affection, and would take any I could get, taking it directly to my heart.