It's Worse Than You Think

I threw myself down onto the couch, my paper plate with pizza in hand. My stomach lurched with hunger, because it’s been hours since I’ve eaten. There’s not much to eat at Bridgeport other than coffeecakes and shit like that, and even those get old after a while.

Just after I had taken a few bites, the phone in the kitchen rang. Shit. I wiped the grease from my fingers onto my skinny jeans, and dashed for the phone, immediately recognizing the number. I smiled and pushed talk, tucking the device underneath my jaw. “Hey, Finn. How’s Wisconsin?”

“It’s fine,” he rushed out, “Marshall, I need you to do me a favor.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. What could I possibly do for Finn who was currently like six hundred miles away from me? “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. I need you to go over to Zeke’s place.”

“I don’t understand,” I replied slowly.

“I’m worried about him. I know he’s home, but he’s not answering his phone. I’m scared something’s wrong.”

What the hell? I shook my head, still not following what exactly he wanted me to do. “Finn, I get that you miss him. Trust me, he misses you too. But he could be out, he could be sleeping or-”

“Listen, Marshall. I know that he’s fucking home, okay? Today is the day that both of his parents were killed. I don’t think he’s okay, and I need your fucking help.”

I winced at his harsh tone. I racked my brain quickly, but couldn’t find a memory where I’d ever heard Finn cuss. Or snap. Or sound so… scared.

“I- Yeah, of course. I’m leaving right now.”

“Thanks. His spare key’s above the door. Can you call me tomorrow?”

I nodded, and then cursed myself when I realized he couldn’t see me. “I will.”

“Bye.”

He didn’t give me a chance to respond, and soon the dial tone was ringing in my ears. I sat there for a moment, my heart beating hard with this panic I felt for Zeke. Jesus, I better fucking go, then.

--

“Zeke?” I called out hesitantly. This feels so weird, coming into his apartment like this, invading his privacy. Even if I have been here before, this is different. “Zeke?” I repeated, walking towards the living room. Jesus, I’m scared and I don’t even completely understand what’s going on.

“Marshall?” I heard.

I frowned at how hoarse his voice sounded before turning to face him. Zeke had on his usual outfit, and I wondered for a moment if it was the same one from yesterday. His blue eyes were bloodshot, Zeke’s hair was sticking out in random places, it looked like he hadn’t slept in ages. I didn’t doubt that, either. Honestly, he was a Goddamn mess. But at the very same time, I still thought he was beautiful. I don’t think anything can change that.

I didn’t respond for a moment, unsure what to say. ‘Oh yeah. Finn called me, scared shitless about you, so I let myself in using a spare key that you don’t even know I know about’. Even if it is true, it sounds shitty to say.

“Hey, Zeke. Finn wanted me to see how you were doing. Are you alright?” I finally asked.

His vulnerable expression disappeared immediately, and he narrowed his eyes, taking on a sarcastic tone. “I’m great, Marshall. Thank you so much for asking! Aside from the fact that I’m the reason my fucking parents aren’t here today, I’m perfect.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, both surprised at his demeanor and what he was saying. “I thought that they passed away in a car accident.”

His nose wrinkled in discomfort, yet he somehow managed to still look angry. I’ve never seen Zeke anywhere close to mad. “I never told you the whole story, okay? I’m the reason that they were going to the grocery store, I sent them out. They were in the car because of me, they died because of me. If I hadn’t said anything, they wouldn’t have even been near the car that day. Why can’t anyone wrap their fucking head around this?”

I just stared at him, and I’m almost sure I looked like a dumbass. I was having so many mixed emotions, I couldn’t keep track of them all. He was speaking so quickly, I could barely understand what he was trying to explain to me. I don’t believe that Zeke actually thinks this way. The fact that he thinks he’s at fault for their deaths is so . . . warped. I see where the guilt could come from in his perspective, but it’s ridiculous and he doesn’t need this weight on him. Why didn’t he want to tell me before?

“Zeke, it’s not your fault! It was just a coincidence, you had nothing to do with it.”

“I had everything to do with it,” he responded, raising his voice.

I don’t know what to do. He’s never this… loud, this out of control. It’s weird, seeing a different side of him. “It’s not your fault,” I repeated, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The anger and frustration in his eyes died down, and they began to water. My stomach tightened at the sight in front of me, and he looked down at his hands before running them through his hair.

“I cut myself, you know,” he admitted in a whisper, and I froze. To hear him say it, even though I had already assumed, was hard to hear. I didn’t want to actually be right. “I couldn’t handle how I was feeling all of the time. I don’t do it anymore, I promise. It’s just whenever the eighteenth rolls around… I can’t- can’t keep it together.”

I couldn’t stand the ashamed look on his face, so I walked towards him and pulled him into my arms. It felt so fucking natural, I couldn’t shake that thought out of my mind.

I rested my chin on his shoulder and kept my grip around his torso, suddenly feeling it begin to shake with small sobs. I don’t know how long we stood there for, I really don’t. He was quiet, but he didn’t let go of me: and I couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said shyly, taking a step away from me.

Zeke, I’m crazy about you. I know that this is a bad time, but I can’t keep it in anymore. “Don’t be.”

I had an odd feeling that he probably hadn’t slept in a while, because his eyelids were beginning to droop, and he was rocking on his feet unsteadily. I took hold of his forearm, and ventured down the hallway, planning to get him to go to sleep. Zeke didn’t protest, and I quickly found his bedroom, gently pushing him down onto his bed.

Shit. He looks so awkward and uncomfortable. I bit my lip, and looked down on him with a torn expression. Jesus, I feel like a fucking pervert.

Slowly, I leaned over him and took off his cardigan, one sleeve at a time. I could tell that he was still awake, just barely. And I wasn’t sure if that made me undressing him seem better, or not. I swallowed hard and reached down for the button on his skinny jeans, carefully pulling them off of him. “Sleep,” I whispered.

His eyes opened halfway, but he didn’t look at me. “I don’t think I can, not completely,” he answered, just as quietly.

“Try.”

“Will you… stay with me?” I’m sure if Zeke wasn’t such an emotional wreck, he’d be blushing like crazy. Then I’d probably tease him a little bit. But right now he just looks kind of pale, and I don’t have it in me to do anything. My heart still swelled at his words, and I smiled in response.

“Of course.” Hesitantly, unsure of what he wanted, I crawled in his bed next to him. I need to take a deep breath, because I’m having a Goddamn panic attack over here. “It’ll be fine,” I stated, “Everything’s okay.”

He hummed softly in agreement, and I knew then that he had fallen asleep. I stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. For some reason, I’m suddenly sick and tired of everything I’m putting myself through. Tonight just put things in an odd sort of perspective that really opened up my eyes.

I need to tell Zeke how I feel about him. That’s all there is to it. I’m tired of being this close to him, and not being able to do anything about it. I’m tired of keeping it in. I feel like I’m wasting time, the time that could be used to get to know him better, and call him mine.

I go through the same thing in my mind everyday. We’ve only known each other for three months, and the chance that he likes me back is so fucking small. But the more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t care. I want to give it a shot. Screw it, you know?

Zeke shifted next to me, and turned on his side so that his even breath was fanning across my neck. I could feel his hipbones against my side, and the warmth his body was projecting. His arm snaked out from underneath the sheet, and he held it around my waist, pulling me towards him. I stiffened automatically, before melting into his touch, a smile growing on my face. He likes to cuddle, for God’s sake. I’ve legitimately come to the conclusion that he can’t get more perfect. Well, not really, but you get what I’m saying.

Fuck the fact he’s sleeping, and fuck the fact he might not like me back. Fuck the fact Zeke’s so exhausted and drained, there’s a chance he won’t even remember tonight tomorrow morning.

Because at least right now, with his arm wrapped around me, I can act like he’s mine.