For Just One More Day with You

15. If You Won't Leave, I Will

15. If You Won't Leave, I Will

He approached his front door after class exactly one week later. He felt someone's presence behind him before he saw them, and his breath hitched as he registered what was happening.

"Hey."

He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear that voice.

"Can we talk?" Scott spoke again, and Mitch's blood ran cold.

Mitch could only nod, and led the blond inside and up the stairs, waiting for Bubba to follow into his room before shutting the door.

He surveyed Scott's appearance as the blond took a seat at the edge of his bed, and found himself terrified.

He had never looked this ill before. Sickly, with almost a purple tint to his skin, and painful-looking bags beneath his eyes. His lips were slightly chapped, and Mitch knew that beneath the backwards hat on his head was a tangled mess of beautiful blond hair.

"How are you?" Scott muttered, staring at the floor.

Mitch had no idea how to answer that. Should he be honest, and tell Scott that he was terrified, heartbroken, and feeling utterly hopeless? That would be far too selfish.

"Worried," Mitch croaked.

Scott nodded. "I'm sorry."

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing."

"I think this warrants it."

Mitch could hardly hear the words over his pounding heart, but they left him with an even bigger sense of dread than he started with.

"I can't do this, Mitch. I'm sorry," the blond whispered, staring at the far wall instead of into Mitch's eyes.

Mitch realized only then that Scott hadn't looked at him once.

"Look at me and tell me that, then," Mitch replied, sternly.

The blue eyes locked with his, and his burst of confidence was instantly gone.

Those eyes held so much pain and regret, they sucked the oxygen from the entire room, leaving it hard to breathe.

"I can't... do this. I can't do this with you."

"Why?" The word emerged in what was hardly a whisper. He was dying for the man in front of him to tell him of his insecurities, to tell him that he was afraid of Mitch getting hurt the way that Derek had...

"Because I don't want to."

Oh. Well. Fuck.

"You don't... want me?"

Scott's eyes remained blank. "I don't want... I don't want this."

"You don't want me?"

Scott's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head.

"Say it, then."

"I don't want you."

Mitch hoped that his heart would start beating again, soon.

"Did you... did you get my voicemail?"

Scott nodded.

"And?" Mitch whispered, desperately.

"I don't feel the same, Mitch. I don't... I don't love you. I'm sorry."

The blond stood up, and Mitch swore he saw him sway on his feet. He watched as Bubba came closer, sitting right under him, looking up at his owner with sad eyes.