Verboten

Chapter 21: No Longer Sweet

Damien's POV:

A single knock resonated against the closed hospital room's door as David simultaneously pushed it open without awaiting a reply.

I felt relieved to see him; almost too relieved.

His eyebrows scrunched up as he cursed silently upon seeing my mashed in face, "her father definitely has a rough fist." David chuckled, finding humor in my distress. He wound his arms tightly around me in a tight embrace, patting my back roughly in support, yet my aching muscles somehow seemed to complain under the bruising hold.

I wrapped my arms back around him just as tightly because it was just now that I realized how desperate I was for a shoulder to lean on, perhaps because right now, the very person I always leant on hated the mere mention of my name, and perhaps even I've managed to lose my lover's shoulder in the process too; because that day - before it all went downhills - she seemed to despise the mention of my name as well.

"Fuck, Damien, are you crying?" David muttered quietly, patting my back - now - a lot more lightly. Lost in thoughts, I hadn't noticed the steady stream of tears that was falling in small cascades past my closed eyelids, much against my consent.

I felt embarrassed, every fibre in my being felt it, but - somehow - no matter what I did, I couldn't hinder those defiant tears, and so I sobbed, for the first time in years - I sobbed.

The sobs tumbled past my lips as I heftily heaved; my brain encompassed with grim remembrances of all the past events, flashbacks of all my mistakes, mishaps and fuck ups. I grew worried about what my future beholds and what was to come. Perhaps all I saw now was an endless pit of darkness - a pit that I was gravitationally getting pulled into to my much awaited end.

I thought of resigning and moving my life to a place where no one knew me, perhaps because right now I felt like a fuck up in every aspect of my life; my career, my love life and my social life. Perhaps I'd live on empty acres of land without a purpose until my body disintegrates and dies. It was a first, a first thought of death - maybe I've never thought of it earlier because never had I seen life as dire and sullen.

"Damien, calm down, it's going to be okay." David muttered quietly, still rubbing my back supportively. For a moment, I had forgotten that he was even there, too lost in thoughts. A profound feeling of guilt spurted through every fibre of my being; I felt awfully sorry for putting David in such a predicament.

Losing my self control this way in front of anyone was never a valid option, perhaps yes, my resolve does crumble at times, but I thrash and yell; I never break down and sob.

Another single remembrance of the time I dragged Amelia across the floor in my angry haze recurred to my mind, and I instantly felt a heavy tug on my heart as my body chilled with the thought because maybe Noah wasn't bluffing and hurling angry-hazed nonsense my way; maybe I really was an underserving abusive son of a bitch.

I didn't know whether Amelia could ever really say that she loved me. Perhaps she doesn't know what love really is, or maybe she only wanted to hold onto the emotions, the lust and pleasure. Perhaps she wanted to feel safe, yet rebellious; innocent, yet risqué. I couldn't find a definite patch of solid ground to stand on, I was merely floating between.

My heart felt physically in smoldering pain; my love for her has long surpassed rationality, and I was now left alone, lost and insecure. I wanted her, fuck, I needed her.

Every scenario that played in my head at the moment felt like a sharp blade being drawn harshly through my chest because I always ended up alone bleeding out as I stare at a retreating reflection of my Amelia and Noah leaving.