The Boy With the Bruise - benjey

14 - When He Took It Too Far

Jorge woke up on the couch, confused.

The smell of coffee beans and honey toast enveloped the spanish boy as he slowly shifted up into a criss-cross position, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and giving himself time to adjust to the morning light.

"Oh... you're up," Kaden said. Jorge's head snapped over to the kitchen, where Kaden sat hunched over with a cup of coffee. The countertops had been tidied up neatly, the alcohol stowed away and empty cans discarded. "I made you breakfast."

It took Jorge only a few moments to figure out that Kaden was tossing out an olive branch - but, unlike what he'd usually think, Jorge had no doubt in his mind that Kaden hadn't changed one bit.

He was finally calling out Kaden's bullshit.

Not responding to him, Jorge checked his phone. 7:00 AM. Benji would be there soon. With a sigh, he heaved himself off the couch and attempted to walk past Kaden, but the older caught his arm.

"Jorge," Kaden sighed. "I was drunk. I don't remember anything that happened last night, but I found you in the guest bedroom, and I..." Kaden sighed, trailing off. "Please, just... eat breakfast with me."

Jorge waited a few seconds to respond to him, shrugging his hand off his shoulder. "I thought you had stopped drinking." His voice sounded tired and worn out, as if he'd finally accepted the fact that Kaden had reverted to his old self.

If, you know, he'd ever changed in the first place.

"I had a bad day. Why are you mad? You were the one who blew me off," Kaden accused.

Jorge scoffed. "What did you expect me to do, Kaden?" It was quiet for a moment before Jorge continued. "I'm gonna take a shower before I leave for school. Don't wait up."

With that, he left, walking to the safety of the bathroom once again.

Angry. He felt angry. Furious, really. Not only at Kaden, but himself. He was angry at Kaden for being who he was, which was unfair, but Jorge couldn't help it. Jorge was angry at himself, though, for falling in love with someone like that. For leaving his family for someone like that, for leaving his home for someone like that, for leaving his life for someone like that.

What was the point if none of it mattered in the end?

In an exasperated motion, Jorge threw off his clothes and turned on the shower. The bruise on his neck still stood out, sure, but the bruise that had been prominent on his face had faded a considerable amount. The cut on his eyebrow was still there, deep and painful, so Jorge sifted around the drawers until he found a bandaid.

"Fucking Hello-Kitty?" he grumbled to himself, tracing the design on the bandage with irritation. "Remind me to never let Gracie grocery shop for me again."

He left the band aid on the counter, for when he got out of the shower, and then turned on his music. Maybe a hot shower would be able to clear his thoughts.

It didn't.

All it did was leave his face feeling flushed and his body feeling overly-relaxed, but it did nothing for the poor boy's racing mind.

Benji. Kaden. Benji. Kaden. Benji. Benji. Benji.

He couldn't stop thinking about his perfect lips, his bouncy hair. Benji. He was truly beautiful in ways that made Jorge practically jealous. There wasn't a single imperfection that Jorge could see about him. He wished he could be like that; perfect. There would be so many things he'd change about himself, starting with those damn bruises.