This is another installment in the Treacherous Chemistry series, best read after Volatile. This story contains domestic abuse and is not for the faint of heart. If you want to skip it, I'd suggest going directly to Attraction--a story you can find on my page.
Toxic have been published, but as I have requested my rights back, I'm now able to reinstall this story on Wattpad. Updates will be frequent.
Christmas Eve—a day that should have been laced with anticipation and happiness, a day suited for hopes to be fulfilled.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to forget the knot deep inside my stomach that twisted and turned as I walked along the empty hallway. Scattered Christmas lights cast a colorful glow over the linoleum floor, spreading warmth and rays of simple joy that allowed a precious sliver of peace to battle my nerves. Straightening my back, I marched forward with renewed purpose. I can do this.
Gabriel's door stood out from the rest, stark white amongst the others decorated with posters, messages and general clutter—the difference as striking as it was familiar. No one would have dared to mess with his stuff, not when he belonged to the football team and threw the occasional evil eye at those outside his close circle of friends. He was still in there. I'd checked from outside, seeing the window to my old student room alight and his shadow moving behind the curtain. The decision had been made. We owed it to each other to repair the friendship that had seen both of us grow up.
I stopped one tiny step away from the door, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Before summer, we had shared this room and almost everything else—inseparable since that day he'd stood up for me in junior high.
Smiling, I recalled how everything had changed from one moment to the next. Gabriel had answered my bullies with a fierce uppercut, throwing a bleeding Doug into his group of admirers, who had made my life hell. The memory of seeing Doug scramble to his feet and dash away with the same fear that I'd battled for months gave me another boost of confidence.
My gaze traveled from the dark linoleum to the white door. The guy on the other side had once said I wouldn't have to be scared ever again. He'd taken my fears away and had made me a happier person. For years.
But nothing lasts forever. We'd finally encountered something our friendship hadn't been able to weather. I touched the small dent in the doorframe and felt the echo of pain throb against my eyebrow. The ache from that accidental shove I'd received the day he'd thrown me out had faded fast enough, but the rejection still stung. Months of nothing but cold shoulders had passed since June, something I planned to change if I could.
Come on. I can do this.
Chris, my new roommate, had tried to tell me that it hadn't been my fault, but I wasn't convinced. Telling your best friend that you're in love with them is a big deal, especially if you're two guys. Regardless of what had happened, I wanted Gabriel in my life even if he could never return my feelings. Our friendship was worth a lot more.
Holding on to the wrapped gift that I hoped would give me a second chance, I squared my shoulders and raised my other hand, knocking softly. I stepped back, listening for signs to give me a clue if he would open or not. No sounds, no steps. Time stretched until the metal handle finally lowered. I forgot to breathe while it moved.
The door clicked open. This is it. My heart thumped as the hinges whined.
Dark hair ruffled in disarray, brown eyes piercing beneath thick lashes, his nose showing signs of once being broken—he looked as tempting as ever despite his scowl.
"What are you doing here, Adam?" His voice was achingly familiar. Rough and decisive.
"I-I... I wanted to give you this." I held out the present, willing my hand to stop shaking.
"Why?" His face hardened, shoulders tensing, his knuckles turning pale where he grasped the door. It hurt to see him uncomfortable.
"I want us to be friends again."
"I'm not sure it's a good idea, Adam."
"Why not?" I tried to stand taller, ready to fight for us this time. We both deserved better.
"You know why."
"Well, I think our friendship is more important. How I feel... How I felt shouldn't matter."
"Adam, just go." He began to close the door, giving me yet another rejection, but I lodged my foot between the door and its frame.
Although a head taller than me and built like the football player he was, I wasn't about to give up. With newfound strength, I pushed inside, stumbling across the floor until I caught my balance.
I forgot what I had been about to say. The room was wrecked. Empty cans and bottles littered the windowsill and his desk. Papers lay strewn on the floor along with his clothes. It smelled as if he hadn't aired the place in several months.
"Gabriel...what's happened to you?" I'd never seen the room in such chaos. "Gabriel?" I took a tentative step toward him, then another. I continued until I stood right in front of him, close enough to see the spots where he'd missed a few strays with the razor.
"Are you okay?" I asked, wondering if I would get a reply.
It didn't seem like it.
He closed his eyes only to open them seconds later. They glinted with something unfamiliar that made me pause.
A moment of absolute silence passed between us, drawn out and fragile. His breathing changed along with mine—nostrils flaring slightly. I couldn't move as tension coiled around us, prodding my urge to do something I shouldn't. It was all too tempting. But he'd said he didn't want this. He'd ignored me for months because I'd wanted more.
I gasped when he stepped closer, trying my best to swallow when he touched my side. Another step, his hand at the back of my neck.
Am I dreaming? I dropped the present and clutched his wide shoulders, searching for a hold as he smashed our lips together, violently.
Pushing through the shock, I received him, meeting his demanding assault. It was fast and unyielding, almost furious. He tugged at my hair and scraped his nails along the sensitive skin around my neck. My thoughts became a fuzzy mess and that small trickle of hope for something between us flared alive like never before. He was all I'd ever wanted. All I'd ever needed. For years, I had longed for this to happen, never believing that it was truly possible.
My lips burned while I ran my hands down his back, feeling the fabric roll beneath my fingers. If I'd been braver, I would have slipped my hands beneath the shirt to feel his skin against mine. I needed something naked and real to ground me, because I was flying high as he kissed me breathless—kissed me until the taste of iron tainted the exchange.
Without a word, he answered my prayers. Buttons flew and material frayed when he tugged at my shirt. I shuddered while it fell to my feet in a sad pile, exposing skin that flushed at his touch. Whimpering beneath his lips, I didn't know if I wanted us to stop or not. I had wanted this to happen for such a long time, but this... It was too much, too fast. I couldn't think.
He turned me around, stripped me of my pants and pushed me up against the wall with enough force to cause bruises. I was about to cry out when, seconds later, his breath soothed my neck. He pressed his hips toward me, biting into the skin just below my ear. I groaned at the feel of his arousal, but I couldn't make sense of anything.
Harsh fingers dug into my ribs, holding me in place while he seemed to unlock the cage around his heart, pushing forth emotions and actions that I'd never imagined.
I could have said no. I should have said no.
With my cheek pressed to the cold concrete, each breath left my swollen lips fast and ragged. I hadn't imagined my first to be anything like this, but what did I expect? Perhaps this was the purest form of passion, a joining of two bodies that had longed for another's touch.
* * * *
"Did I hurt you?" he asked as his clothed chest left my back.
I closed my eyes, struggling to keep myself from voicing the pain screaming its way through my body.
"No," I lied. Next time would be different. Next time, my heart would beat with pleasure together with his.
"Good."
He shuffled behind me, steps taken on the cold floor, first away then closer again. A soft gasp left my lips when he pulled my pants into place, leaving me to fasten them on my own. The brief moment of distance was enough to make me uncertain—abandoned with confusion.
Turning despite the throbbing in my lower back, I watched him wipe drops of sweat off his forehead. Both of us were stalling, not sure where we were headed or how to get there. This wasn't what I had expected. Had he been lying all these months?
As if he knew what went on in my head, he placed his hand on my cheek—a rare, loving gesture that instantly soothed the agony. I leaned into the touch and palmed his chest, savoring his warmth through the thin shirt.
"I... I'm scared, Gabe."
Afraid of what he felt, or what he didn't feel. Afraid of memories that would keep us apart.
He smiled, brushing my cheek with his thumb. "You don't have to be."
"Then I won't."
A brief silence followed, careful and questioning. I waited for him to say something, but perhaps he had as much trouble as I did with forming words. There wasn't much to say unless I wanted to spark a discussion that would urge me to stay and talk until dawn. We had months of catching up to do and plenty of issues to broach. Where did we go from here? What did it even mean? I wasn't sure.
"Are we...?" I began, but words continued to evade me. Perhaps it was best that way.
"Are we what?"
I moved a hesitant finger between us, pointing first at him, then me. "Us. What does this mean?"
He grasped my hand and stole it away from his chest. "Isn't it a bit too early to ask?"
Heat crept along my cheeks. He was right, of course.
I let my gaze wander, afraid to look directly into his warm, brown eyes. A clock on the far wall ticked with assured regularity. "I actually have to go." If I waited much longer, I would be late for dinner at my parents'. I also wanted to lick my wounds. It was difficult to keep the pain from showing.
"I won't keep you."
I knew what he meant, but the words had crappy timing. I bent down to pick up what was left of my shirt and closed my hands around the collar to stop them from shaking.
"Okay. Enjoy your Christmas." There wasn't much else to say.
I moved toward the door, turning to find that he'd followed me. He tipped my chin with his index finger and placed a soft kiss on my sensitive lips. It was enough to infuse me with hope and warmth all over again.
While we stood there in silence, I clasped the handle, trying to ready myself to leave.
He kissed me one last time. "No one can know."
The words caught me off guard, but I understood. It was logical—perhaps even expected.
Gabriel had thrown me out for harboring feelings toward him. He had made a statement that day, and going back on his word, without much thought, would affect his life too much. His position as a prominent player of the football team didn't help, either. He couldn't risk his scholarship. Right?
It was rational, in a strange kind of way.
Gabriel closed the door behind me. The click seemed to echo with loneliness, but I decided to wave it off. With one hand on the wall to support me, I struggled through the corridor—each painful step taking me farther away from a situation that felt far from finished. I wanted to smile, but somehow, I just couldn't.
As I slumped down on the bed inside my room, I almost thanked him for the pain inflicted. Without it, I doubted if I would have believed what had transpired between us. The jump from being thrown out to being wrapped in his embrace was too wide, too high. Impossible even.
My fingers trembled as I felt the bruises where he'd held me too hard. I winced but smoothed out my expression as soon as I got myself together, forcing myself to breathe and relax. Forget the pain. I repeated the thought like a mantra. It worked until I moved again. My jeans chafed against thin lines drawn by short nails on bare skin, but this time, instead of wincing, the slight ache made me smile—an odd sort of smile, but still a careful tug at the corner of my lips. I carried the evidence of passion, and it was enough to warm me from inside.
He wants me.
I lay there in silence, collecting my thoughts and listening to the faraway tones of carols. It was time to leave. Stars twinkled in the sky, and I still had a one-hour drive home to my parents'. Far too soon, they would sit at the table, wondering why I hadn't shown up yet. My older sister would pace the living room, holding her daughter tightly to her chest while checking the driveway through the large living room window. Mom would fret about the food getting cold, running back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room without stopping to breathe. Dad would sigh and check his watch.
I adored my family, but I needed a moment to be alone and think. I wanted a night for myself to go through every little detail of what had happened. I wanted to feed that spark of hope without anyone judging me.
Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the telltale sign of dried sweat. I wasn't going anywhere before hitting the shower.
I heaved myself off the bed and allowed the white wall to assist my balance. Perhaps it was unfair to call it white. The paint had long since lost its luster, worn down by an endless string of tenants. Stains of anything and everything adorned these walls, but it was somehow comforting. No one was spotless. History left its traces whether you wanted it to or not.
My jeans came off with difficulty, then my boxers. I did it fast, discarding my clothes in a pile on the floor. At any other time I would have folded them, but for once, I didn't care. Without sparing myself a glance in the mirror, I stepped into the shower. I needed warm water soothing my body back to strength. I needed rivulets running down my skin, removing the lingering pain—because without the pain, all I would feel was love. Deep, satisfied love, a love lost and found. I would smile and forget the mistakes we had made that had kept us apart for too long.
I would forgive.