PULL (BXB)

It's So Hard to Say Goodbye

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***Sebastian Royals POV***

"Goodbye to you, Mark Fletcher." I whisper. "I could have loved you so fucking hard."

As I quickly get in the cab, I make sure not to look back. Nothing can change what is happening. Our paths crossed at the wrong time. Even though it felt so right.

I meet my PR people and agent at the private tarmac of the airport. Slowly, I climb out of the cab. I gather my bags feeling heavier than I did before. My feet trudge up the stairs of the jet.

I speak quickly, to get caught up, with my manager. I review the paper work, sign the chosen contracts and reject the ones I'm uninterested in.

I didn't lie to Mark. I don't know much about the next year of my life. My career has to take a pause.

The last two months, before my visit to Manhattan, I underwent ATRA treatments to force my Acute Promyelocitic Leukemia (APL) into remission. I was subjected to bone marrow biopsies, blood tests, scans and numerous prescriptions. A multitude of perpetration ensued so we could move from the induction stage of my treatment to the consolidation stage.

The doctors in Italy want to administer ATRA plus chemo (with an anthracycline such as idarubicin). The treatment regimen has seen good results in European field studies. They offer my best chances of a cure. I agreed, hoping to save myself. I at least want to buy me some time.

Maybe the gods will have mercy on me. If I can't stay in this body, maybe they can bring me back as a puppy. I will gladly wander on to Mark's doorstep as a stray. Sitting in his lap in any form would be better than nothing.

My eyes sweat as I picture the beautiful man that I left behind. God, what a fucking treasure. Everything about Mark is perfect for me. I have never felt the way I had when he was wrapped in my arms. The rhythm of his heart beat had quickly become my favorite song.

I rub my fists into my eyes, acting as if sleep was the issue. The truth is, I had not slept so well since I took this career on. But, with Mark, sleep found me. It sang sweet lullabies to me.

I slip my ear buds in putting on my playlist. I need something to distract me. His scent permeates on my skin. His eyes dance in my head like a heavenly vision. The echo of his voice resonates throughout my mind.

Fuck!

He had me at first glance.

Why?

Why is this the hand I was dealt? I'm not ready. I don't care about losing my hair. I don't care about the muscle mass that the toxic medicine threatens to deteriorate. I could deal with the physical pain.

But, this. This ache in my heart. The feeling of someone squeezing my chest. I don't want to handle this. I don't want to do this alone. I want Mark.

I would never say that out loud.

This isn't about masculinity. It's not about pride. This is about heaving a burden on someone that could easily have been my everything. No one deserves to watch someone struggle. I couldn't even do that to my family. How could I put it on someone I just met? Someone that I would have fell so damn fast for doesn't deserve my baggage.