Always
"I hear a voice say, 'Don't be so blind.'
It's telling me all these things
that you would probably hide.
Am I your one and only desire
am I the reason you breathe
or am I the reason you cry..."
“Always” by Saliva
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Aaron sat on the edge of the tub, balancing precariously on the cool porcelain. In one hand, he held a razor, tightly clenched between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand opened and closed spasmodically, twitching to drag out the tingling burn of pain. The cold sting seemed to calm him. Blood ran down his arm, dripped off his elbow, and the sound of the droplets hitting the tile floor was lost as Aaron’s heart beat ever louder in his ears.
He wondered what would happen if he didn’t apply pressure to the wound soon, if he simply let himself bleed. He wouldn’t die, not from the way he had cut. But he would lose enough blood to make him pass out. Perhaps it would even land him in the hospital. Aaron wasn’t sure how much he wanted that, and dropped the razor. He started fumbling for a towel.
“Open the fucking door, Aaron, or I swear I’ll break it down.” Markus’ voice was soft, a deadly quiet, and carried through the door perfectly. There was no yelling, no banging, nothing. Just Markus, and his lilting voice.
Aaron reached over with a blood slicked hand and flipped the lock. The door slowly swung open, and Markus leaned in.
“Jesus. Not again.” Markus moved in, crouched down, took Aaron’s cut arm and the towel and began tending to the wound. His eyes were flashing in anger, a little directed at Aaron, but most of it at himself, but his movements were gentle.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron offered.
“I am too.” Markus sighed, leaving the towel wrapped around Aaron’s arm as a makeshift bandage. It would do until he could buy something more proper. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Aaron shot to his feet, swaying slightly. He had lost enough blood to be lightheaded.
“But Markus…I want to be with you.”
Markus stood to look Aaron in the eye. “But you don’t know how!” he snapped bitterly. “It tears you up inside, so you tear yourself up. I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore.”
Markus turned to leave the chilly bathroom. The slump of his shoulders and his dragging feet betrayed his conviction; he had no inclination to leave Aaron. He also had no choice. Markus paused at the threshold and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Go home, Aaron. Go home to your friends, your family. To who you were.”
“That might kill me.” Aaron reached out with his good hand, grabbed Markus’ shoulder, only wanting the other man to stay. The next thing he knew, he found himself being shoved into the counter, Markus’ mouth all over his. The icy edge bit into his back, sure to leave a long and deep bruise, but Aaron was beyond caring. All he wanted was Markus’ lips on his, Markus’ tongue in his mouth, Markus’ fingers digging into his hips so fiercely, possessively, he hoped they’d never let go.
Aaron’s arms curled around Markus’ neck and he clung for dear life, because he knew that if he let go, he would fall, fall, fall…
He was light headed again, but this time not from blood loss.
“You don’t want to be gay,” Markus whispered harshly, his face hidden, pressed against Aaron’s cheek.
“I just love you,” Aaron whispered back, his voice hoarse.
“Then why do you hurt?”
Aaron didn’t answer. Didn’t know how to answer. Didn’t have an answer.
“Maybe that’s love?”
Markus’ lips curved in a hopeless smile against the damp skin of Aaron’s neck. His fingers flexed on Aaron’s hips, smoothed over the bruises he caused, then curled to fist the back of Aaron’s t-shirt. Markus held on with everything he had, even though he knew everything he had wasn’t going to be enough.
“Somehow, Aaron, I don’t think so.”