Hey, Mister In Denial (BxB)

Chapter 29: Back To Hell

This place is like Hell to me as of the moment; Dale is lurking here somewhere, and I'm afraid that we'd run into each other. I don't want to be a fool because I know that once I see him, I would come begging for him to take me back into his safe and strong arms. I've been saying that to myself because I know myself.

The professor puts a hand on my shoulder and I refuse to make eye contact. Of course he feels sorry for me. I've just lost my Memere. I feel sorry for myself, too. He tells me that if he wants to talk my problems out, I can reach out to him; I nod in response. The last thing I want to happen is to talk my problems out with the professor I barely know. This professor is new. He was the one who kept sending me those lessons and assignments – I rarely checked my email.

"Thank you, and I will," I say in response to his offer; I just want to go and leave this place. He pulls his hand back and gives me a brief smile before jerking his chin at the door and I scurry my way with so much haste. I pull out my cellphone in my pocket and send Derek a quick text: my professor is weird.

Lunch time. I don't know where to sit.

Derek and the others have not been responding to any of my text messages. I texted them while I was in my class before the lunch break, but they are yet to respond. I stand in the corner of the room, not wanting everyone to see me. Dale could be here. Of course he's here. It's his lunch break as well. My eyes scan the area, hoping to find the Russian guy, but I can't find him in any seat. Gloss and the others are missing as well. It feels like there's something fishy going on.

Turning around, deciding that I'll just spend my lunch break inside the library, with the old and dusty books, I hurry. Without any further ado, I head to the direction where the library is. On my way there, I see strangers that are looking at me strangely, as if I've grown another head. I tip my head down, somehow ashamed. Why am I ashamed? What am I ashamed of? I haven't done anything wrong, have I?

As I walk past the way that leads to the Garden of Luck, I find myself being dragged by an unknown person. I kick, squirm, and try to shout, but the man's calloused palm has been placed over my lips, muffling my scream. I shut my eyes, tears prickling my eyes, heart racing faster. The culprit leads me to the Garden of Luck, dragging me deeper and deeper until we reach the end, where we cannot be seen. I turn around, stretching my arms out, pushing the culprit with all the force I can muster. When I turn to glare at the culprit, my eyes prickle with tears again as I see the loving and beautiful face of Robert Dale Waites. Of course, he's the only one who would do this to me.

Dale is a mess – his hair is sticking up everywhere, there are big dark bags underneath his eyes, as if he hasn't been sleeping well, and his eyes are tired. They are almost red, and its beauty is almost fading. They are sad and dull and not full of life, not the one I always see and want and admire. His school uniform is crumpled, as well as his pants, as if he hasn't been ironing it. In fact he didn't iron it. Had I not been crushing on him for a very long time, I wouldn't have recognized him at all. But still, he looks handsome to me – but of course I would like to see the Dale before, not this one in front of me.

"Rob," I say, my voice weak. His eyes flash the pain he feels and then I realize: I called him Rob. Not Dale. Calling him Dale is closest term of endearment.

"So I'm... Rob now," he says, loud enough for me to hear. "I fucked up really bad, didn't I?" His voice is croaky, tired. He sniffs, looks away, and puts his hands inside his pockets; I can practically see him curling his hands into a fist inside his pockets. He takes a deep breath. I remain a silent. "I... fuck. I'm really stupid."

By then a tear slips his right eye. I want to wipe it away, to just pull his head down until our lips meet, but I force myself not to do it. I remain frozen, feet glued on the ground. He runs a hand across his face, frustrated. "You are."

Rob – Dale – looks at me, teary eyed. Then he just puts his hands on my shoulders, pushes me to him, then crashes his lips with mine and a moan escapes my lips. Oh God, I miss the feel of his lips. His touch, already burning against my skin, is heaven to feel. I feel the tears in his eyes slipping, sliding across his flushed cheeks. My eyelids flutter to close; the beat of my heart is erratic. "I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, God, I miss you so much." He rasps between kisses and I burst out crying, hugging him tight.

"What are you doing to me?" I ask, feeling mad at him. I glare at him, though my eyes are already pooling with tears. My lips tingle, still feeling the sweetness and bitterness of his lips against mine. They burn, so does my skin. "Why are you keep hurting me? Why?" I cry, letting him see how fragile and hurt and sad and weak I am.

Dale cups my face in his hands and looks at me in the eyes. "I know I fucked up real bad, big time, but please I'm begging you, I want your love. I want you. Please baby, forgive me." He rests his forehead against mine while I start to punch him in the chest, but he wouldn't budge. "I'll do anything; Hell, I'll kneel in front of you, beg for your forgiveness, beg for your love. I know I'm stupid and fuck, I hate myself for hurting you. I fucking loathe myself."

"Please..." I don't know what I'm even asking, but Dale seems to know the answer.

Crashing his lips against mine again, a fire is already burning inside me, making my heart pump erratically. Thud, thud, thud. Dale puts his arms around me – oh how I miss his arms around me. His lips are rough but at the same time soft as he kisses me harder, hungrily. I don't want this to end. I just want the time to freeze. I'm afraid that this might be a dream. Proving that this isn't a dream, I push myself deeper into him – our knees, chest, legs, shoulders are touching now.

His arm circles my waist while his hand rests behind my neck, guiding me as he kisses me with passion, as if he's pouring all the emotions he has in his heart. I pour mine, though. I want to make him feel how much I've missed him, how much I long and yearn for him, how much I crave for him, how much I love him. I love him. I love him with all my might, with all my being.

Then he pulls away, and I'm already disappointed as his lips leave mine. "Let's go home. Let's ditch school. Let's, fuck, let's just go home and do whatever the fuck we want to do. Fuck, I want you so bad. Miss you so much. Love you so much."

As I'm about to open my mouth, he puts his index finger over my lips.

"Don't say anything. Yes, yes, you heard it right. I love you. I love you. Ah, I'm going crazy. This is because of you." He says, almost whining, but he's smiling widely at me. "Just, oh damn, please let's just go home."

"Okay,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I say.

****** END OF CHAPTER 29

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