Desirable (mxm)

forty-eight; go and live

I'd be with my mum. I would never have anything to worry about again.

Nate keeps looking at me but I don't dare look up. I don't even realise I'm crying again until my salty tears invade my tongue and give it the only splash of water it's felt in days.

As soon as my house comes into view I start to panic. Nate instantly notices something is wrong and we stop before we reach the gate. "I know you had an argument with Everett," he says carefully.

My eyes shut by themselves because the memory is excruciating.

"I don't want to talk about it," I spit in his direction.

"Okay."

We walk through the gates and towards the front door. Nate is still holding me up but I feel like dead weight, practically dragging my feet. I wish I could grasp how I feel but I feel nothing.

As we step into the house, sounds echo from the kitchen but I avert my gaze. "Milo?" I hear Reign's voice. "Oh my God, Milo."

Nate moves away from me but continues to hold me up because we both know my legs are about to give out. I barely see Reign's face before she throws herself at me and wraps her arms around my neck. "You're home," she mumbles into my shoulder. "You're safe."

I attempt to hug her back without pressing my entire weight into her. "I was so worried about you," she carried on.

"Y-You're okay," I croak, remembering how she fell unconscious after the committee gathering.

She nods and glances up at me with those light blue eyes. "I'm fine," she nods confidently. "I was more worried about you. I had no idea where you were, I couldn't get a hold of you. None of us could."

I flick my eyes between her relieved expression. Why would she be worried about me? Everett was right. I'm worthless. Using up too much space in this world.

"I'll explain another time," I whisper lamely. I want my bed. I want to crawl under the covers and cry. "I'm tired."

Reign hums. "Of course, we're here if you need anything. Okay?"

I nod as Nate rubs his hand over my back supportively. I wish he didn't. I don't deserve to be consoled right now. I'm a mess. My entire existence is one big fucking joke. I shouldn't even be here. I shouldn't.

As we pass the kitchen, the hairs on my arms stand and I know my brother's eyes are glued to the side of my head. "Milo–" his voice is strained.

I don't spare him a look, I walk ahead but Nate moves to my side. I can't get upstairs fast enough, away from him. Away from my thumping heart.

Once I fall into my bedroom, Nate shuts the door after me. "You need to see the pack doctor. Do you want to shower?" He asks as I approach my bed and perch on the edge. I'm surprised I even made it. "Water?"

My lips remain shut and I don't move. "Food, perhaps?"

"Please stop," I whisper under a harsh breath.

Nate stops in front of me but I'm focusing on the ground and my breathing. "You're upset with me."

"I almost died, Nate."

The room turns silent. "I know," his voice cracks with a small weep.

I drag my eyes up to meet his and when he stares back at me, I whimper. We're two broken souls trying to fight for something–something I'm not sure of right now.

"I know I freaked out with you," I exhale, with absolutely no enthusiasm in my voice whatsoever. I barely have anything left to give. "I went out because I needed a distraction, I needed a friend and at the time, Apollo felt like my only friend. Not because I wanted to fuck someone. But you clearly don't have much faith in me."