Habits

I looked at the slight boy under me, guilt setting in. I felt dirty, like I had ruined something so pure that I had no right to touch. I didn't have the right. And I never would. Bobby had an overly content look on his face and I looked away in shame. He came down off his euphoric high and noticed I wasn't looking at him.

"W-was it that bad?" he asked in his nervous voice. While I liked his cocky, arrogant side, I liked loved the quieter side more.

"No," I said quickly. "Bobby, I- this isn't right." I felt his breath exit his body. I rushed over my next words. "It's so wrong but I can't help it." I smirked at him lazily. He smiled in response. I flipped us over and he rested his head on my bare chest. He took a deep breath before passing out.

I threaded my fingers through his brown locks, exposing part of his pale, angular face. A face that I had fallen completely in love with. A face that would always make me smiles on the worst of days. A face of pure, unaltered innocence.

"God, I love you," I said, a realization to myself. Six months. Six months and I was completely in love with him. All his little quirks included.

The way he pulled at the hair on the back of his neck or the way one eye drooped a bit. He loved chocolate milk but hated regular. He had his permit but refuses to drive. He always ate food separately.

I felt like an extremely bad influence on his innocence. By his age, I'd already started smoking. And partying. And drinking.

I sighed to myself and attempted to close the guilt gates. I let my eyes slip closed and fell into the consuming darkness. My dreams consisted of many inconsequential things.

I woke to Bobby's hands running down my chest and his mouth working on a nice mark on my neck. I moaned slightly. I felt him smirk and suck harder.

"B-Bobby, wait," I moaned out. "Bobby," I said forcefully and he pulled away with a hurt expression. "I-we need to slow down a bit."

"But why?" he asked with a grin, his hands resting on my chest. "When I know you love this just as much as I do?"

"Bobby, I don't think your father would like this to much," I said solemnly. That was a lie. He'd hate this. He accuse me of corrupting his son or forcing myself on him. Which was bull. Bobby forced himself on me. I refused. At first.

"You're right," he answered slowly and my heart broke thinking he'd finally come to his senses and would leave like he should. "But I don't really care what he thinks when it feels this amazing and happy. If my father dislikes that you make me happy, then he has the problem, not us." Truth shined in his eyes. He truly believed what he said. He was right, to a degree. But he was also very wrong, too.

"This is illegal, Bobby. Nobody would be okay with this." It hurt me to say it and I knew it cut Bobby deep.

"My mother wouldn't care! She really wouldn't!" He all but yelled at me. I flinched. "Please, 'ric."

"Bobby," I groaned. I couldn't drag the precious, innocent boy down my path. He had the chance to make it. "I can't," I whispered and looked away from his face to miss the heartbroken expression.

"S-so you're jus-st going to u-use me and th-throw me a-away?" his asked in a voice that was meant to be strong. I searched his eyes for what he wanted me to say versus what was right.

"Bobby, I love you. I really do. You've taken over my head, my heart, my life. Every moment of every day is consumed with you. And I don't fucking care. It's exhilarating to have someone else to think about, worry about." I stopped and thought carefully about my next words.

"I love you with my entire being. But I can't drag you down my road of self destruction. I can't ruin everything you have going for yourself. You'll go off to college, find someone good for you, get a good job. You won't be tied down by me and all of my problems. I need you to be better than me. Because I love you too much. I love you too much to hold onto you."

I had watched his facial expressions change as I spoke, hurt, confusion, understanding and anger.

"Uric, you don't understand that I don't want any of that if it's not with you!"

"Bobby, you're fifteen, in high school, with your first real crush. Please, don't give up everything for me," I said gently, placing him down on the bed beside me. I stood up and dressed before turning to him again. "If you haven't formed a wonderful life, which I doubt that you won't, I'll find you. I'll find you when you're old enough to understand why I'm leaving you now. I love you."

I walked through the otherwise empty house, my heart shattering and Bobby's sobs attacking the shattered pieces.

Go back, tell him you didn't mean it! My heart screamed at me to turn around. But my head won the argument and my feet hit the pavement of his driveway.

But, I couldn't do it. I couldn't rip everything away from him like that. I had to let him go. I had to let him find himself. He needed life to make him understand that I was just a phase that will be forgotten as soon as the next appears. I had to let him live.

If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it's yours forever.