Firefly

50: tissue

"I don't want to go there." His words are like a child's tantrum. 

"Go wherever you want. I don't care. I just don't want you here." I look away because my heart beats in debates contrary to the words I spoke.

His eyes puddle further. "Don't say that." He whispers shaking his head. "Don't stop caring for me. I'm a dick. I'm an asshole. And I know I disgust you and you hate me but don't stop caring." 

I will lose my mind trying to understand his. 

He blues the whole day doing everything he can to make me hate him but at sundown, he gets drunk and shows up in my room asking me to care for him and hate him at the same time. 

I cannot deal with this today. I don't have the energy for it. I drop my arms, "Justin, please leave. I'm exhausted and saturated. I can't handle your mood swings."

I begin to walk to the window but he blocks my path. His eyes are scared. They're begging for forgiveness and I don't know what else. But I know it's not just forgiveness. He gulps when I roll my eyes and look away from him. 

His eyes fill with tears. He's so clueless, I almost see a part of him trying to force himself out of my room and a part of him keeping him rooted to my floor. "I-I feel lonely. And I'm scared. I'm scared I'll do something bad to stop the pain."

My eyes widen with a grimace while I purse my lips. "Are you trying to manipulate me?" 

He closes his eyes and looks up in denial. He shakes his head as more tears just drop down his eyes. "I don't want to be alone. I'm not in control and the pain is too fucking much." He holds his forehead. "I came here to ask for forgiveness but I'm getting drifted away. I should leave but I fucking can't. I--" he sighs. 

Whatever he's trying to convey is going down the drain because not only me, I don't think he's understanding what he's saying either. Thanks to the alcohol stinking off of him. 

I glance at my room door. "What do you want--"

He falls onto his knees in front of me. "Help me." His head is bowing, his eyes are closed, and his face exhibits nothing but pain. "Stop the hurting I can't take it." His head shakes. "It hurts, Elena. Make it stop. Just make it s-stop--" a sob breaks out. "I'm s-scared. It's dark and I'm scared. I don't want to be alone, I'm scared--"

I see his shoulders slump down as he sobs in front of me. So heartless, yet so full of feelings. He puts on such a strong front but the way he's crumbling tells me that this pain has been in store for a really long time. 

He covers his face behind his palms, hiding it more from me. Tears of my own chafe my sight. His vindictive behavior aside, I still see his innocence beseeching a way out of the downcastness. 

I touch his wrist. Both our bodies shiver. I fight it and pull his hands away from his tear-stained face. He tries to look away, to conceal the emotions that are coming to play. 

My thumb brushes across his cheeks as I wipe the trail of his tears. He sighs, tilting his cheeks and pushing them further inside my palms. I take a step closer and hold his face completely. I brush my fingers to the back of his neck, to his hair, to his neck, his jaw, and his cheekbones. 

"Can I hug you?" He sweeps his lashes up to look at me. 

I give him consent as a tear leaks from my eye. He sits up on his knees and wraps both his hands around my waist. I massage his hair as he hugs me, tighter by the second. My hands brush against his shoulders and his back before I grab his hair gently. He grunts as he stands up. 

His hands immediately grab my face. He studies every part of my face with a hunger that told me he couldn't do it before. His fingers deepen into my skin as he tucks away strands of my hair that fall across my face.