To the Beat of My Heart

Devoid

I feel Clay's arms around me but I'm still dying.

I hear his voice, or the outline of it. It's soft. I feel his lips on the side of my head. I feel his crushing hold. He says a lot. I'm dizzy, my heart is burning, pounding, and it's like I'm being choked, the air ripped out of my lungs so painfully it has my eyes watering and my head exploding in agony.

I don't know when I come down, but I feel myself in Clay's embrace. I'm jittery, almost numb. I start crying and Clay presses my head into his chest. I let him. I can't think about what I've done to him, not yet. Not until I can fucking move again.

It feels like twenty, maybe thirty minutes. I sit up and keep repeating that I'm alright. Clay goes in to kiss me, but I refuse him.

"I can't," I say.

"O-okay," he breathes. "God, Fletch. I can't, like..."

I pull myself out from under the sheets and sit on the edge of the bed, staring at my toes. It's so cold in this room. I check my phone. So many missed calls and texts. Kai. Ansel. Chelsea. Mum. Kat. Even Hunter. Clay's dad. Everyone wants a piece of me. I can't believe all it took was one night and everyone in my life wants a piece of me. Everyone except Clay. Not yet.

I lob my phone across the room, and it smacks into the wall. I hope it's broken.

"Fletch," Clay says. He looks like he's about to cry. "What happened. Please tell me."

My mouth quivers. I almost do. Just get ahead of it. Tell him it was a mistake.

He won't believe it. The evidence is there. The hurt will cloud everything else. Even... even if he listened, he can't trust me. Not ever again. I allowed this to happen. "I'm sorry. I just... I need..."

I can't sit here. I can't be in this room with him. Not now.

I find my trousers and shirt and throw them on and start putting my shoes on, fumbling at the laces.

"Babe," he says. "I'm scared. Please talk to me."

I ignore him.

"Where are you going?" Clay asks, his voice shrinking by the second.

"Uh..." I clear my throat and scratch at my brow. "Just out. I need some air."

"Can I come with you? I... I can't leave you like this. I don't know what the fuck happened and I'm so fucking scared. Please."

I shake my head.

I almost make it to the door when I stop, looking one last time at my boyfriend. I've shattered everything. I did that, not Clay.

I start sobbing again, holding my palm to my mouth. Clay leaps from the bed but I hold up my other hand to stop him. I shake my head again, try and control my breathing. "Whatever happens," I cry, "I still love you. Please know that."

"Fl... Babe. I know that. Of course I know that. I love you. So fucking much."

I take the stairs. I can't be crammed into the elevator with someone who knows my dirty secret. I mean I know it's unlikely anyone in this goddamn hotel even knows me or what I did. That article has to be fresh. I mean only my family have made a huge-ass deal out of it so far. Not getting... swarmed by reporters or whatever. And besides, I don't have an easily recognisable face like Clay...

Aaarrgh. I just need away from... people.

My legs are flaring when I reach the bottom of the stairs. I almost tripped on the third flight. My head is a clusterfuck of rage, fear, anxiety and despair. I alternate between them all frequently, sometimes experience the whole fucking mix and more in sharp spikes of pure agony. My head goes dizzy and light and then I have to stop and hold onto the bannisters until I can see straight again.