Make me cry

The lovers

Rory 

Another hateful morning has me shackled at a bench in the classroom. It's all the same as usual. Dylan laughs at something distasteful he found online. Rory comes in looking like motherfucking Jack the Ripper. Our teatcher doesn't say anything when I slam his head into the bench. It's all the same. 

Only... usually Alvin shivers and cowers as he makes the short walk to his bench. Today he's awfully still. His body is still bent in that lowly pose but his head hangs not in fear, but in resignation. 

Apathy is the last way out of misery. I would know... But I don't care about Mr.Lonely-guy so it doesn't matter. 

After school I grab him and make him follow me home again. It's a desire I don't understand. Never before have I needed anything this badly. I'm chained, burnt, starved and hunted by my terrible want. 

As soon as the door is shut I press him up against the wall. He barely has the time to squeak before I'm flush against him. My hips lock our feel-good-places against each other as my lips wreck havoch on his mouth. Though he is the one wrecking me. 

It's wet and soft and desperate. Nothing is fast enough. I push my tongue inside his smooth slit and attempt to eat him, as if it would satisfy me. It's not enough. I grab his arms, touch his cheeks, sqeeze his waist between my hands but nothing about this quenches my thirst. I need to... 

Alvin is crying. His cheeks are wet and his small frame shudders in my hold. I reach up to touch his face but he gasps and shrinks in on himself as I would hurt him. 

A crawling sensation wriggles under my skin. My whole being is itching with horrible fury. WHY?! Why would he refuse my tender touch?!

I fling him to the floor and point to door, hissing at him to get the hell out. When he runs I am more of a ship wreck than I was before. 

The next day I am calmer. The cliffs of my rage seem less threatening as if I have accepted my sinking doom. I will understand this. I am not some dumb puppy, angry and sad that he won't pet me. 

When I drag him home today I try to keep my cool. The uncomfortable anger is creeping in my skin but I breathe in and out, soothing my irrational head. For Alvin it seems this is exactly what he expected. He followes me without complaints and when I close the door he stands perfectly still waiting for me to... I'm not acctually sure what he expects me to do. 

I breathe in. His eyes are closed. I breathe out. His lip quivers. I lean my head down to see his face. His fingers are digging into the crook of his arm. I softly grab his shoulder and the whole world implodes. 

Alvin drops to the floor, curling into a small, small beetle. He's hugging his knees, shaking with small teary gasps. I don't know what to do. I want to touch him but this is the result. I want to fix it but I don't know how. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?! 

"FUCK!" I grumble and punch the wall above his head. "Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" I yell and grant the tapesty with three more punches. Alvin has gone quiet and now sits there, gently shaking below my anger. 

I know that I shouldn't, but I fling him up against the wall again. His eyes dare to give me just one sharp glance. It's a marvel of fear and submission. He's given up. 

Somehow that makes me unexplicibly mad. 

I grit my teeth trying to hold it in but the loudest scream I've ever made claws its way up my throat. 

"GET OUT!" 

My chest heaves with the painful fury and when he's gone I fall to my knees, staring at the place where he sat. 

The next day is just the same. Everything is the same. Except that I'm getting more impatient. 

I pick a fight with Emmet, giving him a black eye and after that everyone keeps their distance. Come lunch they all scatter for the wind leaving me behind... with the outcasts. Ryan the freakshow flips me off after smiling lovingly at his phone. Fucking wierdo. 

I fall behind as the last snails make their way towards the cafeteria. There he is. I see the back of his white shirt and the V-shaped hairline  on his neck. This is wrong. But I can't help it; I never cound. 

Without a sound I push him into an empty classroom. The only noise from Alvin is a surprised gasp. The pale walls are dripping with mid day sun light and the curtains flutter from the light breeze. The weather is nice today. I'm not. 

Ragged breaths risp the silence, but I can't tell if their mine or his. It doesn't matter anymore. None of it does. I remember this feeling. This angry apathy that is only ever broken when I find something interesting. I thought this was it. I thought he was the... 

But he doesn't like me. So it doesn't matter. 

I stare him down, as if my eyes could hold him in place. He's frosen. A small piglet about to be devoured by the big bad wolf. My savage hands tare his shirt open and I scan his skin before I splay my fingers and palms over his sickly slim body. 

Something's wrong, a small voice in my head tells me. But everything is wrong so it doesn't matter. I paw at his delicious skin as if I he was meat. He's warm and cool and soft and bony and everything that I want. But he won't give it. Because I'm wrong. 

Suddenly, when my hand reaches his lower back, he sqeaks. A pained gasp that he can't hold back. I pull the shirt of ff him and stare at the bruise. This... this is what's wrong.  

Suddenly it makes sense why I'm so mad. 

Alvin looks embarresed but I shake my head and murmur something inaudible. Neither if us can make out the words, but we both understand what I mean. Softly, like how a fallen leaf lands on the grass, he places his hand on my arm. It's a touch that means a lot of things. 

Slowly, as if I could wait a year, but impatiently as if I can't breathe until he lets me, I lean in and kiss him. The way our kiss stops time makes me wonder if there is a meaning to everything. His bare skin glides like starry sky under my palms. But suddenly he pulls out of my gentle grasp and makes a face of horror. 

He hates me. 

It turns out I am what's wrong. Of course. 

The demon in me protects my heart from the pain of Alvin's rejection. All that is left is hellish need of destruction. So I destroy what's left of us. 

Slamming him up against the ugly wall I hiss insults and claw my fist into his sholder hard enough to dig holes. I kick against the wall on either side of him and grab his hair to make him look into my eyes. I'm sure there is hell in there. 

My hand curl balefully and leaves a dent in the wall. The sound of my punch makes tears form in his beautiful pools. My insides hurt. I must make him hurt. 

With a sinister feeling I slam my fist into his stomach. Oh no.