The Demon's Gift

Untitled Part 7

I woke up eventually, though I didn't want to. I reminded myself to crush any hope I had of him coming back, because even if he did, I wouldn't let him. Not until he figured his shit out. I showered. Or at least, I went to, but ended up sitting down in the tub, letting the water fall heavily on my head while I stared at my hands.

He didn't love me.

I didn't care.

Both were lies, but if I repeated them enough I could force myself to believe them.

It took a long time to get myself up to wash my hair and exit. It took even more time to force myself out of bed after I went directly to it in nothing more than a towel. I peeled myself from the mattress and threw on the first clothes my hands came in contact with. I then unwillingly moved my feet until I was at the door, letting out a breath before opening it and stepping outside.

I instantly wanted to go back in. I took a step further into the hall. Down the stairs, left, and into the kitchen. I was relieved to find it empty. I didn't want to eat, but I made myself a sandwich anyways. I was facing the counter when I heard the voice behind me.

"Oh, hey," Justin said, grinning widely as he emerged himself into the kitchen. I turned my body fully to acknowledge him. "How are you today?" I blinked, staring at him a moment, my heart lifting just a little at the sight of his face.

"Justin," I said, examining him. I had never had time to give it much thought before, being so invested in Colton, but he was cute. I didn't want to think about him that way, but it was a step up from thinking about Colton in that way. So in that moment, I made a highly regrettable decision, but one that benefitted me if only for a few hours. If nothing else, it would piss Colton off, and there was nothing I wanted more right then. The consequences of how it would effect Justin failed to cross my mind. "You enjoy Shakespeare, don't you?"

"Of course," he replied, a happy laugh escaping him. "I didn't know you did."

"I have Hamlet back in my room, along with other ones you probably like, but Hamlet's my favorite--do you want to come read lines with me?"

"Sure!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with a joy that pooled into guilt in my stomach. I ignored it. "Hamlet's my favorite too."

"Really?" I motioned for him to follow me as I started walking out of the kitchen--neglecting my sandwich, but not really caring--and towards my room. "Do you think Horatio is real, or a figment of Hamlet's imagination? That's one of my favorite theories..."

"I think he's real," Justin replied. "It wouldn't be the same if he wasn't. Wouldn't be as heartbreaking. Besides, the theory is flawed. Horatio talks to Marcellus."

"I agree," I said, throwing him a smile. "You know, if my life hadn't been completely fucked from the start, I might've been an actor. Or a kickass English teacher."

"You would be great at either," he told me. Colton would have made fun of me. I forced a smile.

"You think? I'm not so convinced. About the teacher one, mostly. But also acting." We reached the top of the stairs. I lead him to my room and opened the door, letting him go in before me. I closed the door behind us.

Justin froze at the door. "I don't think I've ever been in here," he said, looking around. He made his way to my bookshelf after a second.

"Welcome to my lair," I told him, taking a glance around myself. "Kind of small, and kind of empty, but mine."

"Did you ever, you know, have your own room... before?" He asked, seemingly nervous about the subject. I shook my head.

"Not unless you count cells."