Page 17 of Tethered Fates

Dropping my brush with a wet thud, I run my hand up my t-shirt and around to my bare neck, smearing myself with sparkling midnight-blues and pearly blacks until I glisten like a night sky sprayed with stars. Tingling goosebumps spill down my neck, travel the length of my body—lower. My dick twitches, tries to harden…

I flinch when nothing happens, and all those good feelings rush out of me to be replaced by limp shame.

The hold on my neck tightens, my fingers digging into the hard bone at the base of my skull, and with shuddering inhales, I push against the sudden wave of crippling disappointment. My eyes squeeze shut, and with clenched teeth, I just about manage to drag myself from memories I want to stay submerged. I think I’m nearly there, and let my guard drop just as muffled high-pitched laughter screams from the TV downstairs my parents are watching, and my mind betrays me—twisting those sounds into hateful jeering by so-called friends as I’m shoved into a painted pink corner that I can’t escape.

Before I’m even out of the memory, I’m tripping over myself to get towards my ensuite. I slap the light switch on. My bare feet pad against the cold white tiles as I rush towards the sink. Cold water swooshes out of the tap, and I’m thrusting my overheated face under the spray.

Before I left uni and came back to live with my parents, I loved my freedoms. One being lots of sex. I used to tingle all over when I was rubbed hard or fingered soft, exploring while being explored. I’d tangle myself up with guys, girls, theys, and every other gender expression. It was fun.

Was.

But now?

Now I’m trembling as I hold onto the cool rim as water rushes over my blotchy cheeks, swallowing mouthfuls to wet my dry throat, until the sound of running water hitting porcelain drowns out all my spiralling thoughts.

Now I can’t even look at the fucking colour pink without freaking out. Now I can’t fantasise about a hot guy without feeling…or rather, without feeling.

I stay there for a moment longer in the numb quiet, pushing everything away until I can find my way back to the surface. Once I’m there, I rise slowly and run my fingers through my curls, staring at my dripping reflection for a beat before turning my back on it and aiming for the shower.

A sudden burst of energy demands my attention, and if I don’t start moving, I’m gonna start screaming.

I’m quick to strip and step under the warm spray, half-heartedly scrubbing away most of the paint.

Once I shut the water off, I pad naked into my room, putting on clean briefs, struggling my damp limbs into a pair of stone-washed jeans before throwing on a black hoodie. I can’t stay in my room any longer, so I message Luuk, who works with Kai at the tattoo studio King’s, to see if he’s around to hang out.

While I wait, I check a message from my brother Thomas, who sent a picture of snow-capped hills, then rub moisturiser all over my exposed skin because I forgot to do it before getting dressed.

A message beeps on my phone, but before I can look at it, I stare at my unfinished painting. A pang of longing hits me square in the chest. Maybe it’s for the best that Sen is pretending he doesn’t want me; no matter what the reason is, he’ll never know about my…problem.

Yet…I don’t want that shit. For some reason, my confusing need for Sen outweighs everything else, and ain’t that just fucking bonkers.

I snap a picture of my rubbish painting and send it to Thomas, then reply to Luuk’s excited message to have me over.

I told Summer I’d help get her paints back, and while I might be damaged, I still plan to uphold my promises.

***

The taxi driver drops me off outside King’s, where Kai apparently still works, and I tap my phone to pay. For once, not using Kai’s card but mine, I can’t be pissed off at him and still spend his money.

I head across the soggy green field, passing a muddy football net on the way towards a hulking block of grey flats. Once there, I press the buzzer, and after a beat, a loud voice crackles out, “Teagan?”

“Yo, Luuk.”

“Hey, little man! C’mon up!”

There is a metallic click, and I pull open the hefty metal door to go into a concrete landing with shitty graffiti on the wall and a flickering light. I think about adding some of my own shitty graffiti, but the elevator doors slide open as someone walks out, so I take it as my cue to head up to Luuk’s.

After a short, choppy ride up, I’m knocking on Luuk’s red door.

Luuk flings it open wide with a smile so genuine and blinding I nearly look away. “Little man! Long time no see. Come in, come in.”

I follow Luuk’s massive frame, toeing off my shoes into the cramped landing with a doormat that says ‘welcome to the lovenest’ and Polaroids taped to the walls of Luuk and his boyfriend Ari. A few with Kai, mostly when he’s tattooing. Some with Summer in her overalls, holding a cup of tea and grinning. Others show Apollo headbanging at a concert. Golden talking animatedly to Kai. More with all of them hanging out at King’s, pubs, or concerts.

A little twinge of jealousy nudges at me as I move past them and into the living room. I used to have friends like that. Or maybe I never did.

“No Ari?” I ask.

Lamps are dotted around side tables, filling the room with honey light and turning Luuk’s sandy-blond topknot into amber, his subtle dusting of freckles melting into gold flecks over his nose.