Chapter Four: "But What If We Hate Each Other?"

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Author's note:

A quick formatting note. This:

"Word words words.

Words word word"

^

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That means that the person whos talking is still talking, but it's like, a lot, and paragraphs are a thing, so that it's not a block of text. Grayson talks a lot in this chapter, but I won't spoil too much, ya know? You might hear form me at the end too.

The song I'm listening to sad af

-Cicada <3

×-×-×

They hadn't spoken since what Grayson said. The words remained emblazoned into his mind.

What did that mean?

Drake stared at the ceiling, breath shallow. Did... Did Grayson hurt him? His eyes welled at the thought, tears threating to spill. It was a thought that scared him, much more than the fact that he got hurt in the first place. It didn't feel right, he knew, deep down, that his friend would never do that to him.

He knew that Grayson would never try to kill him.

That was all he remembered. That he had... almost died. It was a concept that he was so used to, the possibility of death. But knowing that he had gotten so close to it. Even after all the times-

He shook his head. It felt real. For the first time, that risk actually felt real. It was terrifying.

He remembered feeling weightless for a moment, just one, remembering a muffled voice scream for help. Fear clawed at his hearts, feeling their rhythm in his ears.

He weakly turned over, nearly falling off the bed. He shoved his face into his pillow, muffling a pained groan. A burning feeling rippled throughout his whole back, the worst along his spine and the thick, deep wound centered on his back. A sort of static, tingling feeling, like when his foot would fall asleep after sitting on it for too long, connected to the two wounds. It was painful, but not crippling like his headaches or when he hurt his spines.

It was annoying, though.

The rest of him felt numb. It was weird, but the truth. All he felt at the moment was pain and nothing else. Burrowing his face further into the pillow, he let out a soft sob. He bunched up some of the sheets up into shaking fists, letting himself have these emotions. Have this moment of weakness, of sorts.

He felt more of this pain swell in his chest, but it was more of a heavy feeling than anything else. It was crushing. He didn't want to be alone in this, but he knew he was. He knew this feeling, a weight he had gotten so used to, was his own to carry.

He didn't want to burden anyone else with it.

It's my responsibility. No one deserves to live like this.

He caught himself. Was he being an idiot? Putting himself before other people one too many times? Probably. But he didn't care. He didn't have that point, that moment where he was supposed to realize he shouldn't do this anymore. He had to keep it together.

If not for himself, but for Grayson. He couldn't be the definition of trainwreck around him, it just wouldn't be right. He had to be there for him, he knew that was important. He couldn't be selfish.

"Drake?" Grayson's voice, from across the room, made Drake tense. He forced himself quiet, aside from a weak sniffle. There was a loud sigh. "I know I'm not just hearing things."

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