Psychosexual [BoyxBoyxBoy]

Chapter 15

I was afraid that if I stayed in that nightmare any longer, it would have gone darker. But it wasn't for nothing, it forced me to think outside of the box. The dream showed me what would happen if I continued down this path. Cedric and Elijah lived real and dangerous lives. How would that affect the people I loved and cared about?

I had already experienced the darkness of just being around them. Elijah killed a man and from how he'd done it, I was positive that it wasn't his first time. How many had it been now before that man? And how many after? Was his job to kill people?

And then there was Cedric. I thought about this before, I compared them both in my head, and out of the two, Cedric just felt more innocent, even though he was older. But after what happened, I wasn't so sure of his innocence anymore.

I hated thinking about it. I spent some time with them outside of this darkness, when they were just being themselves, and I was becoming addicted to it.

Elijah was intimidating at first. I thought about all of our encounters over and over, processing every moment like a memory book, flipping through the pages and reaching the last page, the one where we had our date. He was so different now in my head. I was no longer afraid of him. My curiosity, however, had doubled since our first encounter, when I thought he was some crazy killer wanting to skin me alive in the back of a bus.

Cedric was the opposite. It started with me believing he was a good guy, one who would have taken a bullet for me even when we were strangers. He was kind to me, his personality was unintentionally dorky, despite the fact that he was this serious muscle god who could lift a bus with a finger. And when I found out he was in a gang, nothing changed.

Until recently.

Now I had no fucking idea what to think. I knew I liked these guys. Outside of the gang stuff, they were pretty cool . . . and hot . . . and were into me, which was fucking nice since I truly believed no one here would. I also had no idea what to do. I didn't need the dream to remind me of the consequences of being in this life. But it was kind of late, wasn't it? I joined Devilian.

-

Sometime after lunch, while sitting alone at the kitchen table, I received a text message from Cedric. I dropped the croissant from my mouth and picked up the phone as soon as I saw his name flash on the screen.

It felt weird opening up our messages. The last time I spoke to him was . . . well, on that weird night. I promised myself out of pettiness that I was not, under any circumstances, going to text or call him. I did a pretty good job at maintaining my urges.

We need to talk, he said.

That message alone sent nerves throughout my body. The feeling was universal, but nothing about my current life involved bad relationships waiting to end via a text message. This was worse.

I made the conscious decision to respond exactly ten minutes later. Every minute felt like an hour. I paced around the apartment, trying to figure out how to make time go faster, wondering why on earth people did this to themselves, when it was much simpler to respond without the unnecessary complications.

I'm listening.

In person. How about that date?

Date? Was he really suggesting a date as a comeback after what happened in that creepy mansion? Either he had balls of steel, or maybe it wasn't as terrible as I made it out to be. If his thoughts were there and not somewhere dark and scary, then maybe his explanation would make sense and I'd finally be able to breathe.