Black Angel (BoyXBoy)

Chapter 24: Forgive, Never Forget

I can't move. Everything is suddenly too loud, the air too close, the lights too bright. In every direction people mill about; some bump into me, mumble apologies I don't care to hear. A tightness seizes my throat, spreads to my chest, and suddenly I find it laborious to draw steady breaths. In. Out. In and out.

"There you are!" Melody's voice grates on my ears as she grabs hold of my elbow. "Okay, so you have to tell me--hey, are you okay?" 

I blink slowly. Once. Twice. Melody's grip on me tightens as she turns me to face her. Something must show in my face, because her expression instantly morphs into one of worry. I can barely stand to look at her, the concern radiating from her red eyes. 

"Gabriel, talk to me. What happened, what's wrong?" She  twists her head left and right before looking at me again, and her brows knit together. "And where's Luca?"

There are no words to accurately describe the feeling his name sparks inside me. "He left," I find myself saying. My voice sounds hollow, toneless. 

"He left?" Melody repeats, eyebrows lifting in a way that I would normally find comical under different circumstances. "What do you mean, he left? This is his party!" Then her eyes narrow. "Gabriel, tell me what happened."

"He just...left." I can't seem to be able to formulate any other response. 

Something must show on my face, because her she presses her lips into a thin line. She resumes her grip on me and begins dragging me toward the house, weaving back and forth through the throng of party-goers. Heads turn as we pass, but I am past the point of caring about what kind of rumors will most likely form as Melody pushes me unceremoniously into the nearest bathroom and locks the door. She points wordlessly to the toilet; I sit down heavily, watch as she hoists herself up on the sink and roughly kicks off her heels. They collide with the opposing wall and fall listlessly into a heap on the cold tile. I realize that this is the bathroom where Mel played doctor on me the night I dragged Luca from the pool, and my hand lifts to the scars adorning my collarbone, slipping under the fabric of my shirt to touch the raised bits of skin. I count them silently. One, two, three, four. Then move back to my shoulder blade, right along that curve where the neck meets the shoulder. Five. 

Melody watches me. When I realize she isn't going to say anything, I break the silence. "I was going to tell him, Mel."

"I know that." She pushes her hair back over her shoulders and leans forward. "What happened?"

"I was going to tell him," I say again, taking my eyes away from her to stare at the wall, "and he wouldn't listen to me. He just walked off, like he couldn't even stand to be near me." I practically force the words out through my teeth, working my jaw.

"That makes no sense." Her brow furrows in blatant confusion. "What did he say, exactly?"

I close my eyes for a moment, then finally find the willpower to relay the conversation to her. I don't want to believe that the words actually leave my mouth, that what I'm saying actually happened. I was going to tell Luca that I loved him, that I was in love with him, and he walked away. Just like that. 

"That makes no sense," Mel repeats when I finish. She cups her chin in her palm. "That's not like him at all."

"I know. You don't need to tell me."

"Did you give him the letter, at least?" 

I shake my head. "No. Once I finally worked up the nerve to actually do it, I felt like I didn't need it." With a sigh I lift a hand to my forehead and push it back through my hair. My insides feel empty, save for the heavy feeling in my chest, gripping my heart like a vise. Out of all the things that I thought would happen tonight, this was definitely not among them. But I guess that's how it goes, right? You can plan and re-plan, overthink and over-analyze, try to run through every possible outcome. But it's always the one thing you miss, the one thing you overlook, that creeps up behind you. It's always the one thing that seems so unlikely, so improbable. Impossible. Like you can barely wrap your mind around it, and by the time you realize what's happening, you're too late. And suddenly you find yourself standing on the shoreline, waiting for the waves to beat you into the sand.