dichotomy ; gawsten

nineteen

"Oh my god..." Geoff whispers. He looks down at Awsten and traces a feather-light finger down his face. Awsten's skin feels stiff and dry from all the tears, slightly warm to touch from how much he must've been rubbing at his cheeks. "And his mom, she's-"

"She's amazing," Otto finishes. "So fuckin' supportive. In the right way. She taught him braille herself. Made sure he didn't get overwhelmed. Went crazy makin' sure he could get around, helped him learn to use a cane...god, she was amazing. She just wanted him to be okay. And he is. He's come so fuckin' far, you have no idea..."

"He's an inspiration." His voice is thick and his tongue feels too big. He can't take his eyes off Awsten, can't stop stroking his cheek and smoothing his soft strands of hair between his fingers. "He's been through so much and come out of it so strong and that fucks me up because I'm over here bein' this mess and he's been through worse and he's not."

"Don't do that to yourself," Otto warns. "He told me about that. It's fucked up, Geoff, to think that way. You're doing the best you can. And besides, he had so much support, from his mom and me and his therapist and everyone. You didn't have anyone. Your stories are so different, you can't compare them."

"No, I know, it's just." He pauses and reaches up with his free hand to rub at his eyes. "It sucks sometimes. Everything sucks. A lot. And I don't know how to make it better."

"He makes it better, doesn't he?"

"He makes everything better, god, you have no fuckin' idea..." Geoff murmurs. Awsten snuffles in his sleep, and he smiles, using the arm that's holding him to start rubbing his back again. "He's helped me so much."

"How are you and your girl- what's her name? Chloe, right?" Otto says. "How are y'all doing?"

His heart thuds against his chest. He can feel it, feel the blood pounding in his ears. He shivers. His entire body shudders and then he freezes, looks down at Awsten, hopes it didn't disturb him out of sleep. "Y-yeah. Um. We- we're f-fine, I guess. Why?"

Otto shrugs. "No reason. You've been over here a lot. Almost seems like you don't wanna be around her or somethin'."

"N-No," he chokes out. "Why would you think that?" His heart is racing oh god what the fuck why did he pick up on that why is he being called out he knew something was wrong he knew it was suspicious he knew it wasn't normal to rely on someone this much he knew the warm was wrong wrong feeling wrong person wrongwrongwrong.

"Geoff." Otto's voice is gentle. "Is...is there any chance you could like boys?"

What the fuck no what is he saying stop no no no what the fuck is this his heart is racing his hands are shaking he's shaking everything is moving no no no. Stop talking stop stop it he's wrong stop.

"N-No."

...

His heart is racing.

He looks down at his phone and then shifts the curtain over the windowpane to press his nose against it and peer out.

She said five minutes she said she was on her way up why isn't she here yet where is she needs to see her he needs it right now where is she where is she where is she.

He hears a key being turned in the lock and jumps up, almost falls over from how fast. His hands are shaking too hard to open the door and she eventually does his vision is blurry and everything feels so fast.

"Gee? Hey babe, I- mmph!" He grabs her and pulls her into him, presses his lips to hers as hard as he can. He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around her waist, squeezes harder, slips his tongue into her mouth, kisses. Hard. Passionate. Desperate.

"Geoff, what the hell is this?" She says when they pull away for air. She's smiling. Her lips are slightly swollen from the sheer force of the kiss.

He looks at her. Swallows. His heart is racing it's not good it's not warm there's no sunshine no no no this isn't supposed to happen she's your girlfriend you love her she's your girlfriend you're supposed to love her she's your fucking girlfriend you piece of shit you love her you love her youloveher.

He kisses her again. And again. And again. It turns into a teenage makeout session that leaves his lips kiss-bitten. And he knows how it's supposed to feel, he knows the giddy high he's supposed to be on. He knows it's supposed to feel euphoric, like new life was breathed into him, like he has sunshine in his veins, like if they were the last two people on Earth and they had to kiss to bring everyone back it wouldn't need second thought it'd be the best thing ever hands down the best case scenario. Easy.

They've been together for almost four years.

His stomach is rolling and nausea is sending swirls up his throat and his head hasn't stopped spinning. The room is moving around him he can hear her rustling around in the bathroom he knows what she wants he knows what he led them to he knows what's about to happen.

Every inch of his skin is on fire there are bugs crawling underneath he wants to rip it off throw it away it's wrong it's all wrong he's wrong wrongwrongwrong.

His chest is tight the bands are getting tighter his throat is starting to close. He looks around wildly, scrambles off the bed and tumbles to the floor and grabs the jacket he was wearing this morning. He roots around in the pocket until his fingers brush against something sharp and swallows and bites his lip and inhales.

He presses down and digs and crunches into his lip and sees redredred and everything starts to stop. It feels like someone dialed it back a notch, like the blood pressure cuff around his heart is slowly starting to loosen.

He can breathe.

He'snotwarmanymore.

He can breathe.

He's not warm anymore.

He can breathe.

He's not warm anymore.