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Troye Sivan

The creaking of my bedroom door and I hear Denise's gentle footsteps, followed by those I could never forget. Not when he would pass by my bedroom on late nights he couldn't handle me. Not when he would pace around in circles for hours. Not even when he would walk up to me and take me in his arms. I could never forget you.

"Troye darling, he's here." She speaks softly, standing by the door.

I roll over and wipe my runny nose and tears, looking her in those worried eyes.

"You can let him in," I whisper, watching as she steps out of the way.

He steps in and more tears fall down to my sheets. I missed that face... so much.

"Hello." He says cautiously, walking up to my bed and sitting down on his knees on the floor.

"Hi," I let out.

"Can you... can you stay over there?" I ask, looking at the chair in the corner of the room.

He nods with a caring expression, pity in his eyes.

"May I ask why?" He asks.

I sniffle out, "Too close."

"I don't want to be alone," I add.

"Alright." He murmurs, standing up and settling down in the chair not too far away. Not too close either.

"Troye..." Jacob whispers after a moments silence.

"What happened?"

"Who did this?"

My eyes find an interest in the cracks in the floor, not wanting to look into those bold eyes.

"I don't know," I speak truthfully.

"What do you mean?" He inquires.

"I never got his name."

Surely, if I were looking at him, I would sense the anger. I was with someone else.

"Him? Troye, who is this?" He asks.

I sigh, guilt flooding my body.

"Some bloke I met at the club," I admit.

"He was just so straightforward... he kept pushing when I asked him to stop." I search deep and somewhere find the courage to speak.

"I asked him to stop," I repeat.

"Troye..." Jacob trails off.

"Did he hurt you?" He questions, "Are you hurt?"

"I don't think he meant to, he was drunk." I can't help but say.

Troye, he drugged you.

"Don't you dare defend him." He instantly says, "Where did he hurt you?"

By now he's all shoe-tapping and stressed as one could be, his temper running only so far.

I frown, "He didn't hurt me, I'm fine."

"You're not fine." He retorts.

"What did this bloke do to leave you like this? You said you asked him to stop." He infers.

A sad sniffle leaves my shaking body and I look up at him, deciding honesty might look okay on me.

"He touched me, he wouldn't let me go... he drugged me." I trail off, my mind reliving every last second over and over again on repeat. If I close my eyes I can still feel him, if I swallow I taste him, he's all over me. I don't like it.

"He drugged you...?" He asks in a quiet tone, frightening me a bit.

I look down, "I- yeah, he did... but I got away. I ran away, I got back here, he didn't- he d-didn't get me."

"Troye," I can hear the sadness in his voice.

"I'm glad you're safe. You're not to go to this place again." He speaks with a hint of possession, making my chest ache.

I nod and decide against objecting, knowing truly he's right. I would be baiting myself by ever showing up there again.

"Are things still dizzy? Is it making you tired?" He questions, me feeling him watch me so intently as warm tears slowly fall down my cheeks.

Shaking my head, I wipe my face and sniffle in, "Not really, none of this feels real, really. Everything's too slow."

"Do you want to get some sleep? It's late."

"I want you to come here," I whisper.

I hear him get up and shuffle over to me, holding my hand out as he sits down on the mattress. He takes it with one hand and caresses it with the other, knowing the boundary I put up of how close he can get.

"I'm getting a killer migraine from all this crying," I admit, smiling purely in pain.

It almost looks as though he winces, shaking his head, "No, that's because of the drug..."

"My mother used to slip it in my father's gin to keep him from leaving us." He murmurs, "They were both psychopaths."

"Jacob..." I utter, holding onto his hand.

"I'm sorry, I would never have imagined." I add, my heart tightening up as he looks to me and nods.

"I've never spoken to anyone about it before." He pauses, "It's not something I like talking about. How they used me as a pawn in their drug use and alcohol abuse. How they switched roles, I wasn't the child, no, they were. I couldn't go to school because Papa wakes up at twelve and needs his "meds" before he threatens to leave. I couldn't leave the house because they weren't trusted to be alone together, they had guns in the house. I was their Mummy and Daddy until they both offed themselves."

I lay back in shock, not knowing what words would be justifiable to even speak. How cruel of a person do you have to be to do that to someone?

"That's awful, I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's just how life can be." He says so calmly, "But look at me now. I have everything I could've ever wanted... except you, of course."

"You want me?" I inquire impulsively, mentally scolding myself.

My eyelids droop low and flutter shut, getting the best of me as I grow sleepy.

"Of course, Troye, you're all I've ever wanted. You're all I want."

I yawn out quietly, my body growing limp.

"I know I made you go away and I know I broke what we had but I'm here. I'm here right now and I'm here for you..."

I love you, I think to myself.

"Because you may not truly want me here, I am. And I will never fade awa-"

-

a/n: my big dummy brain is really trying me today but im too full of love for the little ones around me to let all the voices win. an okay-i-hope-tomorrow-is-better kind of day.

how about you?

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