Page 90 of The Villains of Winter

That he belonged to him.

“I think about you all the time,” James finally whispered in the darkening afternoon.

I never stop thinking about you, James ached to tell him the strained tribulation inside of him. I hate being without you. I can’t stand it for longer than a few hours. All I do when I’m alone is think about the next time we will see each other.

I count by days and minutes, James wanted Elliott to respond that he felt as impassionedly as James did. He desired Elliott, desperately, and the vulnerability nearly killed him. James felt more naked professing his feelings in his mind to Elliott than he had been in Elliott’s dormitory the week before with his shirt and trousers bundled on the floor. James wanted to confess all of it. I stole a few of your clothes to bring to Montana so I can hold onto your scent at night. I picked up the habit from the New Year when you were away from me in Arkansas. I don’t want you to be away from me again.

I don’t want someone else to have you.

James couldn’t break the habit of hoarding Elliott’s scent and his clothes as hard as he’d tried. He’d even attempted to pick up disastrous habits to try and replace that one; he’d tried hallucinogens and nicotine, but he was fixated on the scent of Elliott.

His natural scent drove him out of his mind.

At night, James’s hand roamed beneath his briefs, and even imagining the scent of him could make him intensely aroused. He climaxed every eventide at the memory of Elliott’s meadow-scented hair beneath him that summer afternoon.

His entire life centered around that moment in June. The centrifugal force of his lifetime was demarcated in the before and after of twenty heated minutes on a full-sized mattress in a crowded dormitory.

He yearned to be with Elliott.

He was attached to him.

By trauma or by emotional bond, it didn’t matter, he was the same as him. His existence blurred within his mind to the extent where he only existed when Elliott gazed at him, thought of him, spoke to him, and he ceased to exist when he didn’t. Underneath his breath, he prayed Elliott would reject his feelings and he could cure himself.

If Elliott rejected him, he could cage the warmth intensifying in his heart.

All at once, James realized why the words were ‘falling in love.’ He was plunging, plummeting, spiraling towards feelings he couldn’t stop. He spun out in need. Emotions consumed him beyond his control.

This, he realized, was madness. This was divinity given by the gods of myth.

To be driven out of one’s mind by carnal urges, ardent love, incurable lust. The heavenly gift of God to be loved unconditionally and love someone so thoroughly, it felt like divinity.

It was sorcery in his blood. He was alchemized. Possessed by desire. Transfixed by love.

“If we can’t go back to the autumn…we might as well move forward.” Elliott said the twenty-four most dangerous words he could’ve told him. “It could be a new adventure for us, you never know.”

James grinned, and it felt like they were young again. “Adventures with you are the best parts of my life.”

Elliott grinned back at him, and though James fought his hardest against the rising amorous tides, he was smitten.

I belong to you, James decided in that single breath between them. Every part of me is possessed by you. He pressed his forehead against Elliott’s forehead. Even if Elliott wasn’t his entirely, he would take him. He would capture him from anyone else that held his affection. Be mine completely. “My world is achromatic without you.”

“I see a kaleidoscope of colors with you as well.” Elliott smiled amiably, he always gave himself freely.

James smiled in genuine warmth for what felt like the first time in years. In that moment, if he had to choose between madness and sanity, then he would’ve happily fallen into madness for Elliott.

Madness was preferable to sanity, he decided, as the lessons extolled. For what was love other than a taste of divine madness[14]?

I am sinking headfirst.

I am descending into divine madness.

I am falling irretrievably in love with you.

Against all reason, you have made me the happiest man on earth, Elliott Archway.

​​ CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

ON FRIDAY, JAMES KISSED ELLIOTT out of the blue in the rain. Elliott wasn’t sure he meant to kiss him on purpose, he was reaching for the umbrella. The torrential rain turned the July sky into gunmetal at noon.