DRAG - [h.s. au]

62*

It's why I didn't really didn't consider taking the treatment pills after she passed. They took my mom away from me, and in a way, they took my dad too.

I was the only one left.

Well they only put my dad on the meds towards the end of his life because he was nervous he'd die, and I swear they only sped up the process.

It's hard to understand why I've been doing what I have for so long. It wasn't that those around me aren't enough, it's that I think I'm not enough.

It's a horrible case of "it's not you, it's me." I thought Harry knowing would ruin this. I thought it would make him run away, or make him hate me. I thought I'd feel powerless, but there's still something liberating about it, about having someone to confide in.

The shame I felt was still there, though. It was compounding with the love I had for him, the frustration and anger I had for Victor, the sadness I had for Rumer, the guilt I had for driving Apollo and everyone else away.

All these feelings were crashing into each other and balancing out, and somehow the most normal I felt, was when I was feeling the most.

"Ben." Harry calls. "You know, for someone who's all cosmic and shit, I spend a lot of time pulling you back to earth."

"I get a little lost up here." I say, with a weak smile. "And to answer your question, Both." I add, exhaling. I stand up, tiptoeing over to the sofa and sitting next to him.

"I wanted to be the one to say I love you first. More control that way."

"You technically did," he starts, placing his hand on my thigh and pulling me over so straddled across his two legs. "I read your admission before I said it, and I've been waiting to say it for a while."

"I've never heard those words in this way before." I reply. "I mean, people have told me they love me but never the way you have." I add, feeling my whole chest contract every single time I think of it.

I know that our confessions were invoked from a place of anger, that would fueled our fire was my drunken words but I didn't mean. My admission of my heart condition and less than ideal way of managing it couldn't have been manageable, especially considering I was in the midst of an episode.

He's giving me a strange look, biting his lower lip and moving his gaze to the side a bit, as if looking at me was almost painful.

"I know you're dying to ask, so go ahead." I say, and he sighs. "Oh, shit. Is it too soon to say the d-word?"

"Bentley." He chastises.

"Sorry," I start, watching his lips as he runs his tongue over his lip. "Go ahead."

"I get the cigarettes, the tense driving... Why the diet cokes?"

"First thing the doctor told me was 'no fizzy drinks'. Artificial sugars are horrific for your heart, it just made sense. Plus, I was already drinking them. It was all about acceleration." I tell him, watching his green eyes scan over my cheekbones and feeling his cool hand ghosting over the small of my back, my hands around his shoulders.

"I- shit." He says, blinking quickly to push away a tear and I swear my hand flew up to wipe the tear. "I wasn't a crier until I got involved with you." He jokes.

"Nothing wrong with reasonable tears, but these, no more tears. There's no point. I'm here and I... I want to try to stay." I admit.

"So we should go to the doctor's-"

"No. I'm not going there for them to give me another pill that will ruin me. Just like it did to my mother, my father. I don't want to inherit that from them too." I say, letting my hands slink down to my sides.