I’ve never seen Gabe like this. We’ve known each other for years, but he’s always so secretive about his home life. It’s me who’s always the one losing it—freaking out while he rubs my back and tells me it’s going to be okay.
“Sorry,” he says, slapping away the tears streaming down his face.
I move his hand away and gently wipe his cheeks with my shirt. “I got you, dude.”
For the first time in our relationship, I’m the one consoling him, and a warm feeling washes over me.
Not because I’m happy he’s hurting—I hate that he’s hurting. He’s just never let himself get like this with me before, and I love that I can be here to help.
I want to help.
My fingers comb through his wavy hair as I whisper, “I wish there were more I could do.”
Gabe squeezes me, sniffling into my shirt.
So I squeeze him tighter and kiss the top of his head.
“I wish we could leave here. Together,” he gasps into my chest.
His words land heavily. Not because I’m afraid or hate the idea.
Far from it, actually…
The thought makes me happier than I can describe.
Leaving this place with Gabe would be…
“We should,” I blurt out.
Gabe stills, and he backs away a little to look into my eyes. “Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah,” I reply. “Let’s blow this dump and get a place together.”
Gabe wipes away the remaining tears. “We could do that?”
“Yeah! We could do it. I know we could.”
His smile is bright. Beautiful.
The two of us kneel there, holding each other in our arms. The pull is intense, overwhelming.
The moonlight hits his pale skin, making his damp cheeks glow. His hair is so dark, and he looks like a ghost.
But… like… a cute ghost.
A ghost you wanna kiss.
Sweet.
Really sweet.
I don’t even realize it’s happening until it starts.
Our lips connect, and everything feels right. All of the pain and bullshit that life throws at us suddenly feels bearable because—
He feels soft. His lips taste like relief.
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, but I can’t stop. My arms pull him closer, and I feel his hands exploring my back.