His Holy Place | MxM AMBM |

"I'm sorry," I said. It was pathetic of me. Because whenever Michael messed up, I was always the one apologizing.

I never knew if I was sorry for letting Michael get to me or sorry for not forgiving him when he did me wrong.

"You're never sorry," he said in a low voice. "Sometimes, it would've been better if you'd killed yourself when you should have."

His words made me stop breathing for a moment. He knew exactly how to hurt me worse than I could hurt him.

I tasted the rage in my mouth-hot, coppery, and bitter. I punched him in the face. Michael stumbled back, his eyes shut, a hand over his bleeding nose. Blood splattered on the floor.

It took me a minute to register what I'd done, and another minute to pull myself together. I tried to focus on my breathing.

Stepping closer, I cupped his face, my thumbs brushing over his burning cheeks.

Raw hurt sank into his expression. He stood still.

"I need to go," he said, his voice shaky. "I need to go."

Fix this, Sage.

He started to pull away, and I immediately engulfed him in a hug.

"Sage," he said. "Let. Me. Go."

"I can't."