.Gabriel's POV.
Things were different in the ICU than in other parts of the hospital. For starters, visiting hours changed from 8AM to 9PM and instead lasted 24 hours, as long as you had a hospital band that verified you could stay. The Riccis agreed to provide all of us with the bracelets, and they even saved one for Dylan if he ever decided to show up.
Currently, I was the only one in the room who was awake. Mihael was fast asleep on the floor beneath the window on my side of the room. Evan's father and Mihael's mother had left to go get coffee a while ago, and Evan's mother was on the right side of Evan's bed, dozing next to him with her forehead pressed against his arm.
It was around three in the morning when Evan finally came to. My mom had agreed to let me stay at the hospital for as long as I wanted to, but I was still supposed to go to school that Tuesday morning. I knew I'd be exhausted the entire day, but I'd rather be falling asleep in class than risk the chance of not being there when Evan eventually woke up. Which, right then, he did.
I felt him shift his arm beneath my hand; I immediately looked up from the IVs in his veins. The light from all the hospital equipment above and around his bed illuminated his face to his chest in a pale green light. His eyelids were fluttering and he was trying to move his head a little, but when he realized he couldn't his eyes flew open and the heart rate monitor began beeping faster. I could tell he was in a state of panic, and I wanted him to become more self-aware before something too chaotic happened.
"Evan," I whispered, standing up from my seat and leaning close to him. I touched the side of his face, and he turned his head towards me, his wide, dark orbs focusing on me.
His lips trembled and attempted to form words, maybe my name, maybe a question, maybe an apology. I didn't know because of the ventilator in his mouth, hindering his speech yet enabling his breath.
"You're okay," I told him, brushing his cheek with the back of my hand. The heart rate monitor faltered before returning to its normal pace. "I'm right here. I'm not going to leave you, so you can't leave me. Okay? You're safe. You're okay."
He looked tired and defeated yet somehow still so strong and handsome. His arms had swelled from the ridiculous amount of IVs in them, and his eyes had bags under them from the lack of sleep he was experiencing. I gripped his left hand tightly and leaned down to kiss his temple. The heart monitor beeped and quickened its pace, causing me to jump back in alarm. His mom shifted a little, and I heard rustling in the area where Mihael was beginning to stir. When I saw how pink his face was and the look of annoyance in his eyes, I couldn't help but start to giggle.
"I didn't think it'd actually do that," I told him. He gave me a droll look, as if I had thought exactly that, as if I'd planned to make his heart race just so I could tease him about the heart monitor. "Honest."
He stared up at me for a moment, half-lidded brown eyes briefly focussing my own before fogging up with sleepiness. His hand twitched by his side and squeezed mine. I smiled sadly and leaned down to kiss the area beneath his left eye and above the strap securing the ventilator to his flushed cheeks.
"You're tired," I stated for no reason in particular. He gave a small shake of his head, no. "You are. I see it in your eyes." He widened his eyes to rid of their previously droopy-lidded gaze. He was so annoying, but I smiled at him anyways. "Go back to sleep, Evan," I told him, even though I wanted him to stay awake with me. He'd been scaring me with all his near-death experiences during the past couple of days, and now that he was awake and next to me, I never wanted him to fall into the blackness again.
He gripped my hand even tighter than before and mumbled something, a somewhat garbled sound that came from the back of his throat. The noise didn't register to my ears, so I didn't respond. I didn't want to tell him that I couldn't understand him because then I'd have to admit to myself that Evan really was so ill that he couldn't even speak, and then I would've started sobbing right then.
He tried to speak again, jaw shifting slightly while his lips moved around the tube in his mouth, but gave up when he realized I had no idea what he was trying to communicate. It broke my heart to see him so helpless because it was not who he was. Evan was everything I wasn't; he was strong, independent, and always knew what to say and do. But lately, being in the hospital showed me how much like me he was becoming, and that terrified me. I didn't want anyone to be like me, especially not Evan. I was weak, heavily reliant on him, and never knew how to say or do anything helpful. I wanted to be like Evan. I didn't want him to be like me. He didn't deserve to be something as low as myself.
But he was. He was so weak that he couldn't even breathe on his own, he was reliant on his parents and the doctors to feed and bathe him and take him to the bathroom, and with the ventilator strapped to his face, he wouldn't be able to comfort me with his words for a while. The reality of my rock, no, my boulder, getting broken down into bits and pieces until he was nothing but a pebble honestly frightened me the point of tears.
"How do you feel?" I asked in an attempt to distract myself.
He spluttered something that vaguely sounded like a curse. I only recognized it because he swore so much that my ears were easily prone to catching the bad words. I knew I'd heard him correctly when he offered me an apologetic gaze. "It's okay," I said with an understanding nod. "You're right. I'd feel like shit, too."
His eyes flew open and his jaw sagged the slightest bit. He squeezed my hand hard and made a surprised noise. I could hardly contain my laughter brought on by his reaction to me swearing.
"You're a bad influence," I teased, trying not to blush from my slip up. When the corners of his lips raised around the ventilator's tube in an attempt to demonstrate his unbelievably perfect smile, my heart practically melted through my chest.
His hand loosened from mine and raised to cup the side of my face. His palms were clammy yet slightly chilled towards his fingertips. I didn't mind them and was grateful for his touch, no matter how unromantic and gross it was. It was a miracle he even wanted to touch me anyways; my entire body was forever and always going to be twenty times more dirty and disgusting than his hands. Actually, Evan didn't even have dirty hands. They could be covered in mud and slime and I'd still consider them cleaner than his.
"I love your hands," I whispered, and the heart monitor gave a sharp beep before going back to normal. His cheeks looked warmer than before. "They're so perfect and clean. I wish my body was as pure as your hands."
He gave me an odd look, and it wasn't until after I finished the statement that I realized how creepy I must've sounded. I blushed from embarrassment and shook my head. "Sorry, that was weird," I mumbled. He nodded his head in agreement, but was smiling anyways, which told me that he didn't think it was that weird.
I stared at my shoes for several seconds, purrowing at the white Converse. See? I always said the wrong things. I didn't know how to express my true feelings in a normal way. They always came out in weird and creepy phrases. I honestly didn't know why Evan still bothered to keep my around.
Evan turned my face towards him to regain my attention. I tried to keep eye contact for at least five seconds. I only held it for three, but it was an attempt nonetheless.
Evan guided my head downwards. I leaned over him so that our faces were close, our mouths separated by the clear tube diving past his lips. His eyes were very dark this close, and I didn't know if I was imagining or actually hearing the rush of air in his chest.
Tell him you love him, encouraged the voice in my head. I wanted to, I really did, but I wasn't sure if he'd feel the same way. Just because you loved a person, didn't mean they'd automatically love you back. Yes, Evan was there for me like the world depended on it, yes, his eyes shone bright whenever I smiled, and yes, the heart monitor sped up when we were close, but none of that meant he loved me. It just meant he cared for me, and caring for someone was very different from loving them.
Caring is materialistic. You care about your school grades, you care about your appearance, you care about whether you're going to die a virgin or not. Love is idealistic; it's this farfetched thing that people can only daydream about, because reality harbors no room for love. Reality is cold and destructive, and as soon as it hears those three earth-shattering words leave more than my mouth, but my heart and soul, it will surely shatter our love without a second thought.
I did love him, though. I loved Evan with every bit of my being, from the marrow in my bones to the blood in my veins. I loved how safe he made me feel despite the threats inside my head, and I loved how his warm body made my fingers and cheeks flush with life. I loved his cheery laughter and his smile that crinkled the corners of his golden-flecked eyes. I loved how loud and excited his voice could get, but I also loved how soft and calm it could become as well. I loved his bullheadedness and his drive to please me. I loved how his hair smelled as sweet as coconuts yet his body smelled as natural as rain. I loved how he knew me better than I knew myself. I loved how bright his face lit up solely for me, and I hated the sun for trying to outshine it.
But none of that meant he loved me back. Evan was a teenaged guy who'd had everything going for him since day one. He most likely didn't want to deal with the burden of having to drag me around for the duration of his life. I mean, could you imagine how terrible it'd be if I told him that I loved him and he didn't feel the same way? I didn't think I could live the rest of my life without Evan's love to keep me from collapsing to my knees every few steps I took.
Evan makes you feel like the terrible world you know doesn't exist, and if that isn't love then what is? the voice in my head questioned boldly.
I don't know what it is, but tonight is not the night to find out, I thought back harshly in an attempt to shut it up.
Just say it, it pleaded. What's the worse that can happen? He looks at you weird? It's not like he can say anything to spite you; he's got a tube down his throat.
I buried my face against the side of Evan's neck in an attempt to stifle the voice. Evan brought his hand to the back of my head and loosely tangled his fingers through the strands of my hair, massaging my scalp with only slight bits of pressure exerting from his fingertips.
"I wish I could kiss you," I whispered into the dark tendrils of hair at the base of his neck. He shivered, the heart monitor's pace quickening. "And I wish I could tell you how I feel about you."
His fingers stilled. I felt him shift his shoulders in an attempt to get me to look at him, but I didn't want to. I'd said enough already; I didn't need to start rambling and dumping my feelings onto him. It wasn't about me anymore, it was about Evan's health. He didn't need to deal with both of our problems, especially mine. He needed to get better.
"I'm gonna go," I told him, squeezing myself against him briefly before pulling away. I didn't look at him as I stood up and turned towards the wall to walk away. His hand latched onto mine just as I took my first step. "Evan," I said, not daring to shake his grip loose in fear of accidentally knocking out one of his IVs. "It's late. I have school in a couple hours. I'll be back in the afternoon, okay?"
His hand tightened considerably, several noises erupting from the back of his throat. I turned to him and immediately fell under the spell of his gaze. He pursed his lips just slightly around the tube, vaguely reminding me of a bad attempt at a kissy face.
I shook my head and smiled gently before leaning down and pressing my lips to his bottom lip, kissing it for a second or two before gently sucking on it and pulling away. The heart monitor was practically singing. I grinned a tiny bit and chuckled out a nervous breath, looking down at his chest that was rising and falling beneath the thin blue hospital gown.
"I'll see you later," I murmured, running my hand through his tangled hair while pressing a light kiss against his forehead. He closed his eyes and didn't open them until I left the room.
I passed the two room before Evan's until the hallway opened to the ICU's waiting area. The secretary didn't look up from her paperwork when I walked past her to the elevators. I pressed the arrow that was pointing down and waited for ding that announced the elevator's arrival. When I heard it, the gray metal doors opened to reveal Mr. Ricci and Mihael's mother.
"Gabriel," he said, eyes as dark as Dylan's yet as golden-speckled as Evan's. "I thought you had left a while ago. It's almost 4:30."
I shrugged pathetically. "I was w-waiting for Evan to w-wake up, and he finally d-did. I th-think he still is, if you want t-to catch him," I stuttered awkwardly.
"Evan's awake?" he asked, vocalizing the surprise in his eyes. I nodded. He nearly took off from the elevator and headed back the way I'd come.
"Gabriel, are you sure you're able to drive home?" Mihael's mother asked before she followed after him. I nodded my head again. "You look tired, and I know you didn't get any sleep in there. I can wake Mihael up to drive you home, if you'd like."
I shook my head, no. "That won't be n-necessary." She wasn't having it, though.
"Nonsense, I just saw you fight back a yawn! Stay right here, I'm going to wake Mihael up so he can drive you home. He needs to head back to the Ricci's house, too. He has work in the morning."
Ten minutes later, Mihael and I were standing in the parking garage, looking for the spot I parked my car.
"You're shivering," he said as I rubbed my upper arms with my hands in an attempt to stay warm.
"It's cold," I responded, not looking at him while I walked through the parking area.
"Want my sweatshirt?" he asked.
"No, thanks," I declined politely, quickening my pace.
"It's not actually mine," he explained, catching up to me. "I took it from Evan's bag before I left the ICU. So, like, you're technically wearing his clothes, not mine, if that's what you're worried about."
I stopped walking. He paused, too. He was a lot taller than me, I realized. A lot of people were.
"Okay," I said. He pulled the hoodie off from over his head and gave it to me, but I was frozen in my place. There he was, shirtless and acting like it wasn't thirty degrees plus wind chill out.
"Where's your shirt?" I squeaked.
"I don't like wearing shirts beneath hoodies," he answered with a shrug. "It makes my skin feel weird."
I shook my head and took the article of clothing, not daring to risk a glance at his hip piercings. I pulled on the hoodie on and instinctively sniffed the neckline of it.
It smelled just like him, I realized with a content smile.
After a couple more minutes of walking, I finally found my car located halfway across the garage. Mihael took my keys and hopped into the driver's seat, which meant I had shotgun.
"Nice car," he stated, fiddling with the radio until he found a station he liked.
"It's my dad's."
"Still," he said, pulling out of the parking space with ease, "nice car."
* * *
* * *
We were parked in front of my driveway when Mihael shut off the radio and turned off the car. We were sitting in complete darkness, save from the lights of the neighborhood shining illuminating the streets around us. I moved to open the car dar when Mihael said, "Evan's not clean."
"What?" I stopped moving and turned to look at him.
"I heard you call his hands cleaner than your body, and that's not true. He's a teenaged guy."
I looked at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. He was staring at the steering wheel. "He jerks himself off to you."
I nearly choked on my spit. "What?" I repeated, because, seriously, where had that come from?
"Don't act so surprised," he chuckled quietly, glancing down at his lap before looking up and focusing on me. "You're gorgeous, dude. How could anyone not imagine themselves fucking you?" The way he said, so bluntly, that word coming out like nothing more than the action it stood for, made my blood run cold and my muscles tighten considerably. "He called me a while ago. Like, maybe a month into your guys's relationship. He was like, close to tears, man, and when I asked him what was wrong, he said he masturbated to you." He paused for a moment, and all I could do was stare, my mouth slackened considerably. I couldn't imagine it, couldn't picture Evan actually thinking about me in such a manner. I wasn't the type of guy that gave everyone an erection whenever I walked into a room. I was average looking and mousy, and nothing about me screamed sexy. Then I remembered what Mihael had said, about me being gorgeous and everyone wanting me, and I gave him a weird look.
"I thought it was weird he was, like, crying about that. I mean, you guys are dating, so what was the big deal? You're supposed to be turned on by each other. He wouldn't tell me anything, just that he was a terrible person for what he did." He looked at me from the corner of his eyes. I immediately looked out the window.
"Why did he feel so bad for what he did?" he asked me, and I wrapped my arms around my knees tightly in an attempt to feel safer.
I knew why Evan had felt that way afterwards, but I didn't want to tell Mihael. I didn't want to tell him about my past, about how I'd been repeatedly used for other people's sexual pleasures and fantasies. He didn't need to know that, which was why Evan didn't tell him why he felt so terrible. He felt awful because he probably thought he was the same as him. He probably thought he wasn't allowed to think of me as something sexual because of my past, because I'd been sexually abused multiple times before.
Although I was little on edge from these knews, I knew that it was wrong of me to feel any sort of anger towards Evan. He was allowed to touch himself to thoughts of me, it was what couples did. It was normal. If I had had a normal past like him, I'd probably do the same thing. We were different, though, and it was important for me to realize that. It was important for me to remember that Evan had needs, too, and he hadn't really ever acted on them. Suddenly I felt horrible. I'd told him I could never give him anything physical in the very beginning, and he most likely felt like the lowest of low for even thinking about it.
"I don't know," I lied with a voice as soft as the wind outside. I still didn't know how to feel about the fact that Evan thought of me in such a desirable manner. Wanting someone in a sexual way didn't mean you loved them, trust me, I knew from firsthand experience. But Evan was different. He was demisexual, which meant he needed to make that strong emotional connection to a person first before he even thought about developing a romantic relationship with them. I knew that despite wanting me in such a way, he'd never use me for just his pleasure solely. I mean, obviously not, since he'd called Mihael up on the brink of tears for advice and to tear himself to pieces over the phone.
Mihael studied me for several seconds before nodding and shrugging. "Okay," he said, deciding to drop the topic. Another silence. I ended it by climbing out of the car and unintentionally shutting the door forcefully behind me.
"Gabriel!" Mihael called, rounding the car and hurrying up to where I was on the porch in front of my house.
I glanced at him to know he had my attention before going back to searching for my house keys.
"Don't think weirdly of him for it, okay? It's normal. Jesus, you aren't one of those people who think masturbating is the one-way ticket to Hell, are you?"
"No," I answered immediately, because I wasn't. Evan was too good, too pure for somewhere like Hell. He was better than any Heaven out there. I didn't think badly of him because he did something that was seen as pretty normal in today's society.
"Then what?" he asked, folding his arms over his bare chest. "Why do you look like you saw a ghost?"
"I'm fine," I whispered, and went back to searching for my keys. I just wanted to go inside and sleep. I was so tired and a little confused. I needed time to get myself together before I lost it right then and there.
Mihael didn't move, just stood on the bottom step of my porch and stared up at me. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "You should tell him how you feel."
How had he heard so much of our conversation?! "What?" I asked, looking at him from over my shoulder.
"Look, I wasn't eavesdropping on you guys or whatever, I swear. His stupid heart monitor kept beeping and waking me up, and I heard you say that you wish you could tell him how you feel, and I really think you should."
I froze from my frantic search and stared blankly at the house across the street. Mihael shifted his stance, obviously uncomfortable with the silence.
"I know it's not my place," he began,- "It really isn't," I interjected, not meaning for my voice to come out as sharp as it had,- "but I want to know. Do you love him?"
I hadn't known how annoying Mihael was until that moment. I didn't know how I'd ever be able to look at him the same way again after tonight.
"You do," he answered his own question with a nod of his head. "You love him a lot, and I think the only person who doesn't see it is Dylan, but he's a fucking idiot. And Evan loves you too, okay? He's crazy about you. He doesn't shut up about you. When we call and text each other, I never get a chance to tell him anything about my life because he's always talking about you. I used to get really annoyed of it, but then I met you and I was like, holy shit, if you were my boyfriend I don't think I'd ever shut up about you either," he joked with a humorous grin. I blushed as a huge smile took over my face, my heart racing a mile a minute.
He might love me, I thought airily. Evan might actually love me. Even though Mihael, Evan's best friend since second grade, said he did, I wouldn't actually believe it until I heard it straight from Evan's lips. Still, I suddenly felt a lot less weird about the conversation from earlier because if Evan loved me just half as much as I loved him, I'd let him do anything he wanted with me.
Okay, tiger, let's slow down there a bit, the voice crooned from somewhere in the back of my mind. You're actually still petrified of the thought of sex and sex-related acts, but you can't remember that fact at the moment since you're so happy.
"Evan's, like, scared of admitting it, though," Mihael continued. "I'm pretty sure he thinks the way he feels for you is wrong because of whatever happened in your past-he didn't tell me about it, by the way, just said that you've gone through some pretty heavy shit. And I'm no marriage counselor, but I really think you guys should sit down and talk about these things. What you guys have is seriously too good to risk losing. I'm telling you this because I'm your boyfriend's best friend and I know what's good for him, and that's you. You're seriously the best thing that's ever happened to him, and I appreciate you for dealing with his BS."
"Um," I said, slightly overwhelmed but overall still ecstatic, "thank you?"
"Don't mention it," he said with a bright smile and shrug. "I just want what's best for you guys. I could honestly spend the rest of my life happy as long as you guys have each other."
"Jeez, you're almost as cheesy as him," I giggled, shaking my head in disbelief. No wonder they were best friends.
"Alright, alright, I'll let you get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow-or, later today, yeah?"
"Yeah."
He waved goodbye and turned to walk across the street to Evan's house when suddenly he said, "Oh, yeah," and tossed me my keys.
"Thanks again," I said, meaning it wholly this time.
"No problem. G'night. Or, um, g'morning," he said, and made his way back across the street. I hurried to unlock my front door and went inside, shutting the door quietly behind me so that I wouldn't wake my parents.
Too late, said the voice when my eyes landed on my mother. She was sitting on the couch watching TV, cup of coffee in hand, most likely to keep her awake.
"Mom?" I asked. "What're you doing up?"
"Waiting for you," she answered, and opened her arms from inside her blanket and beckoned me close. "You didn't expect me to sleep when my baby's not even home, did you?" I shook my head, toed off my shoes and crawled on the couch. I rested my head on her lap while she gently combed her nails through my hair in a way that only one other person could, soothing the racing thoughts inside my head and suddenly making my body feel a lot more tired than I'd thought it was.
"How's Evan?" she murmured, turning the volume down on the TV. I could only nod my head before I passed out with my head in her lap, her hand in my hair and a blanket over my body, Evan's sweatshirt warm around my torso and his scent consuming both my nose and mind.
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Note
i didn't think i'd update tonight, but here i am, doing it anyways lmao. it's 3:30am and i have school in like 4 hours, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes. i'll fix those eventually.
please leave a vote! and don't forget to comment; i always have fun reading what you guys have to say.
drawing done by skeletonfriend- thank you again, i love it so much!!
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