Blood Red

Drink in hand, I sat back and watched chaos unfold as the party became more and more intoxicated. Each and every person's action was alcohol-fueled, including my own. Right now, I stayed seated as I swallowed the burning clear liquid in my glass -- that way, when I stood up, I'd be even less likely to think straight, which was the whole point of parties anyway, right?

I watched many faces dance through the front room, some familiar, some not. Some I knew far better than others; I laughed lightly as I watched my good friend Zack drunkenly stumble into a short brunette girl, who I recognised as Tay Jardine from Chemistry class, and almost knock her out in his attempt to apologise, throwing his hands out to catch her in his over-inflated arms. I decided now would be a good time to intervene and stood up abruptly. I tilted forward a little more than I'd anticipated as I got to my feet and smirked to myself as my drink worked its magic. Mind clouding over slightly, I clapped one hand down on Zack's bulky shoulder.

"Don't mind him, love," I laughed to the girl, who had one hand unnecessarily on his chest to 'steady' him. "He's not very good with the alcohol but add in a gorgeous girl and he'll be KO'd."

Her laughter was a result I'd been hoping for, as was Zack's death glare I felt against the side of my face.

"You keep him right," I told her, grinning. She looked delighted.

I turned to leave, whispering in Zack's ear as I went, "You've got her now, man."

He looked directly at me as I walked away, suddenly looking thankful for breaking the ice for him. I winked cheekily and nipped out of the room.

Two girls stopped me on my way to the kitchen -- ie. Alcohol Central -- to ask what school I went to and why they'd never seen me around before. I laughed off their pick-up lines, touching them both lightly on the arms and giving them playful smiles as they walked off, hips swinging like metronomes in the most over-exaggerated way. I could get almost any girl I wanted at this party if I really tried, but I wasn't here to pick up girls.

No, I was on a different mission tonight.

I edged past handfuls of drunken teenagers into the kitchen. I had no idea where the host of the party was, let alone who they were. To the host, I was simply a friend of a friend spending Friday night at their house by second-hand invitation. There must have been about fifty kids here. I figured this meant it was okay for me to raid the cupboards for more alcohol. I hadn't brought my own like many of the people here had cleverly done. I had gotten my first few drinks from friends who were kind enough -- or stupid enough -- to share. I had run out and was eager to find more. By the time the host found out, I would just be another anonymous party-goer.

Some odd looks were thrown my way from the slightly more sober people in the kitchen as I rummaged around a top shelf, standing on the counter. I glared back at them and continued my treasure hunt until I struck gold. Liquid gold, that is -- Jack Daniels. Unopened. I unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, scorching my tongue and making my stomach contract uneasily at the strength of my beverage. I suppressed the feeling and hopped down off the counter, leaning against it as I let the alcohol course through my system. I continued to sip at the bottle and as I waited for the effects to take hold, I took my time to analyse the party. It was a classic teenage house party, full of people whom the host probably only knew less than half of.

I had started off in the livingroom myself, which was full of dancers grinding to some irrelevant music channel and people crammed onto the sofas to either have a break to refuel for further partying or they were just stranded there because their alcohol consumption had stolen their ability to stand upright any longer. The hallways were crammed with people who couldn't decide what room to stumble into next. The kitchen was full of people attempting to socialise. The dining room contained girls gossiping about anything and everything. Upstairs would be people attempting to get a turn in the bathroom, or the too-drunk teens collapsed on some of the beds. Possibly even some of them hooking up, who knew? There were definitely people out in the garden flirting and having a smoke.

I didn't want to be with any of these people. I had my mission to complete. However, I needed my accomplice. And I had no idea where to start looking for him.

Rian stepped into the kitchen then, phone in hand, probably texting more friends that there was a party that needed gatecrashing.

"Rian!" I strode over to him, gulping down more from my bottle.

I noticed my involuntary swagger as I walked towards him. I stumbled and fell against him, catching his shoulders to pull myself upright.

"Alex, hey! I'll be having that..." he said as he took my drink out of my hand.

"But it's mine!" I snatched it back and clutched it to my chest.

I could feel my mind unraveling, movement having caused a jump-start in my system. Alcohol was go.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Rian was laughing at me now, a child not wanting to share his toy.

"Never! There's always room for more!" I swung the bottle wildly above my head before taking another swig.

"Too much of a good thing is too much..." Rian shook his head.

"Suck my dick, Rian. Have you seen Jack anywhere?"

"Yeah, I just helped him into the bathroom and unzipped his pants ten minutes ago. He's probably knocked himself out on the sink by now, can you go check on him? That is, if you can walk up the stairs," Rian raised his eyebrows at me.

"Perfect! Of course I can get up the stairs, I'm not an old lady," I grinned and kissed Rian on both cheeks before I danced out of the kitchen and down the hall.

I started towards the stairs, just as the front door swung open and a crowd of boys bigger and older than myself stepped into the house to join the party. I guessed they were maybe seventeen or so -- only a year older, but still. Jeremy was at the front of this little pack; I'd seen him around but I didn't know him. He was shorter than myself, but definitely bigger in the sense that he was of thicker build, and he had a trimmed black beard which just added to the overall kind of frightening look he had going on. Zack knew him because they both regularly attended the skate-park with their skateboards, and apparently he had a short temper, not to mention, even meaner when he was drunk. By the way he and his friends were looking, they'd already had a drink too many. I decided to make a quick escape without so much as acknowledging him, so I turned quickly on one foot to dash upstairs.

But my alcohol consumption wasn't quite as willing to let me go without getting into mischief. I tilted suddenly without warning and fell against Jeremy. I felt myself get pushed back rather angrily, and I only just managed to stagger away on two feet and regain balance. Once I had though, I realised Jeremy was moving into my personal space of his own accord.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Watch where you're going, dick-head!" he yelled at me, flecks of spit shining on his lips.

Normally I would have backed down, apologised and made sure he didn't catch me on my own for the rest of the night. But alcohol gave me power -- I could be the cool kid standing up to the school bully in the playground. In my head, at least.

"Dude, don't be an asshole and ruin the party," I replied breezily; I got this. I could feel a few people stopping to stare.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? I've heard about you. You're fucking home-schooled because you're too much of a faggot to come into school," he spat the words. They felt like acid on my skin.

"I have a blood disease," I frowned and hunched defensively.

It was true. Technically, I did go to school, but it was only two days a week and I didn't go to all of the regular classes, only a few. The other three days a week, I had a specialist teacher come to my house. A lot of people avoided me at school because they'd heard about my 'illness' and got weirded out by it. I met Rian through the debate team a couple of years ago and he was the first person my own age to be truly understanding about what was wrong with me. He introduced me to his group of friends -- Zack, Jack, Danny, Matt and Evan -- and we all instantly clicked. They always made sure I got invited to parties if there was one going, which I liked. My parents only let me go because they knew my friends were so caring. They all constantly looked out for me, trying to make sure I never felt left out. It still stung when people judged me for it though. I hated feeling like an outcast.

"You're a fucking disease, Gaskarth," Jeremy sneered.

I clenched my fists and stared at my feet. More people started to emerge, a new audience to my faltering courage. Jeremy laughed and started calling out to people he recognised. He was finished with me. I wasn't worth the fight, or his time.

That was, until I pulled back one of my clenched fists and swung it towards his face as he was about to walk by me. My fingers cracked on impact with his jaw. I pulled back, my hand stinging, and examined it carefully. My knuckles were red, but I thankfully hadn't broken the skin. I took a few stumbled steps back upon realising that was probably a stupid idea, punching the local tough kid in front of everyone.

Jeremy stared at me, touching the bruising skin of his cheekbone. "You're going to wish you hadn't fucking done that," he snarled, lunging for me and seeming to grow beefier and more terrifying as he neared me.

I was just beginning to wonder what kinds of flowers would be brought to my funeral when a muscled arm was thrown between us.

I stepped back, startled, and realised it was Zack.

"Your timing's never been fucking better," I choked with relief.

"Well, you did hook me up," he replied, and even though he wasn't facing me, I could tell he was smirking.

"Get out of my way, Merrick, so I can teach this cheeky fucker a lesson," Jeremy growled.

"I don't think you wanna do that, man," Zack spoke, all calm and collected. He was the peacemaker we all needed, seriously. The thing was, Jeremy respected Zack for whatever reason, and Zack was actually a good friend to him. "C'mon. Leave off, huh? I'll have a chat with Alex. Let's all just try to get along and have a nice time. Go get yourself a beer, huh? If you behave, maybe a cute girl will talk to ya."

Jeremy visibly relaxed his stance, Zack's words seeming to pacify him. It was a miracle. He had tamed the beast. Jeremy nodded and Zack patted his shoulder before he disappeared to the kitchen with his friends. Zack turned back to me and I stared at him, open-mouthed.

"How did you do that?! Seriously, he's like your puppy-dog. Have you considered asking him to go to anger management or something? I think it would do us all a favour," I slumped back against the wall.

"You know, I've actually been talking about that with his mom, and we're going to ask him to attend a class," Zack nodded, as if that were nothing unusual. This kid could get along with anyone, I was sure of it. But that was just a testament to how patient and nice he was. "But, for real, you shouldn't have punched him, bro. What the hell? Do you have a death wish?"

"He wasn't being all sunshine and daisies to me," I muttered.

"Yeah, but don't jump straight to punching him! Granted, I know he probably deserves it, but, just... let me handle him when you get into scrapes, will you? You're damn lucky you came out of your first encounter with our dear Jeremy so lightly."

"Thanks to you!" I laughed, slinging my arm around his neck in a quick hug. I noticed Tay hovering in the doorway of the livingroom on her own, glancing over at us. "I, uh, I think your new lady friend is waiting for you."

"Hm?" Zack turned around, catching Tay's eye and giving her a shy wave, which she quickly returned. He looked back to me, smiling thankfully. "You're my Cupid, Gaskarth. You okay though? You're not gonna get into any more trouble, yeah? I don't think you need me to remind you that a punch-up with Jeremy could've ended worse than just a black eye and a bloody lip for someone like you."

I sighed and nodded, knowing Zack was right. Punching Jeremy had been outright stupid. He would've beaten me to a complete pulp and then I would have bled to death, no exaggeration. "I'll be fine, I was going to find Jack, actually."

Zack's eyes glinted. "Ohhh, Jack," he nodded, smirking.

I shoved his chest. "Shut up! Go embarrass yourself in front of Tay."

Zack laughed, ruffling my hair. "Go get 'em, kid."

I watched him rejoin Tay, putting his arm around her shoulders and guiding her to a sofa in the livingroom to sit down. They made a pretty cute couple, I decided, proud of my matchmaking skills.

Now, to see if they worked for myself...

+ + +

I found Jack playing cards in a spare room with a whole bunch of people from school. Some I knew, some I didn't. Some acknowledged me with a wave, some ignored me. I didn't mind either way, simply waving back and then tugging at Jack's shirt.

He, for one, was beaming up at me. "Lex! Come play Ring Of Fire, I'm totally kicking these losers' asses."

"You're coming third, actually!" a blonde boy yelled from across the circle. I think his name is Kyle, he was one of the only people that smiled at me when I came in so I was immediately glad he and Jack were friends.

"Good enough for a beginner!" Jack laughed in reply, looking back up at me with a questioning furrow of his brow. "Well?"

"Later, I wanna talk to you for a minute," I shook my head, tugging his shirt again.

Jack just shrugged and stood up, saying he'd be back soon, and I led him out of the room, searching for another that we could speak privately in. I found a bedroom and tugged him inside, moving to sit on the bed, and patting the space beside me. I figured it was a good sign he was willing to leave his friends in the middle of what was apparently a very important game to talk with me.

My plan had been ever so carefully thought out and now it was time to execute it. I knew Jack was bisexual, and I was too. Through Rian -- and my own eyes in some cases -- I had learned that Jack had hooked up with three boys and only one girl, aside from the girlfriend he had for about four months last year. If he leaned toward boys... well, it could only be an advantage. And I felt like we were quite evenly matched because somehow, despite my lack of social status at school, I had managed to hook up with one girl and a couple of boys. I figured I could thank my friends for that, for getting me into so many parties. Alcohol really was a good catalyst.

For this particular party, however, the alcohol was going to be my excuse.

My excuse to kiss Jack and see if he liked me back.

Alright, so it wasn't that carefully thought out. Especially considering the fact that I'd been crushing on him for nearly six months, but it was the best I had. I was scared I'd lose him if I outright said I liked him, and he didn't like him. But kissing him drunk? I could blame that on the alcohol making me lust after someone, anyone. If he wasn't into it, I mean.

"So why'd you drag me away from my game? I was slaying them."

"You were coming third, from what I heard," I raised my eyebrows.

"Just let me have my small victory!" Jack yelled, laughing as he jabbed at my sides and made me squirm further onto the bed to get away.

"Jack, don't!" I cried, falling back onto the mattress.

Jack paused, a devilish grin spreading on his lips. "Oh? Is young Alex ticklish?"

"Oh no," I groaned, just as Jack bounced on top of me.

His clumsy fingers scrabbled into my ribs, making me squirm and squeal, desperately shoving him away. I was crying with laughter though, making my arms weak, and it took a couple of tries, but I managed to roll us over. The bed was large, enough room for us to wrestle around for several minutes, drunkenly giggling. Jack kept overpowering me and trying to tickle me again, but I regained the upper hand a few times. I straightened up sharply when straddling him, about to cheer in victory, but instead I slammed my head into the shelf above the bed.

I collapsed beside Jack on the mattress with a squeak of pain, clutching my head and whimpering. Jack immediately went into a panic, rolling me onto my back and yanking my hands away to inspect my scalp.

"Shit, Alex!" he muttered, pushing my hair around to check for blood or broken skin, straddling me this time so he could see better. I heard him let out a sigh of relief, and I relaxed too, taking that as a good sign despite the horrible stinging pain. "I think you're safe."

"Still hurts," I muttered, reaching up to rub the spot where it throbbed.

"You need to be more careful, please, I don't want you to get hurt," Jack urged, eyes filled with worry. "I don't know what I'd do if you started bleeding, Alex. What if the ambulance didn't get here in time? You could die, just a tiny scrape could kill you!"

"I know that already, I've kinda been living with the condition my whole life, remember?" I rolled my eyes. "You sound like my parents. I know I have to be careful but I'm fine, aren't I?"

Jack let out another breath, nodding. "I know. But I just forget how scary it is sometimes. That you have haemophilia. It's terrifying."

"Why is it so terrifying? A little scrape wouldn't kill me just like that, y'know."

"It's so terrifying because I can't imagine losing you," Jack stared at me, making eye contact that gave me butterflies and made me feel weirdly uncomfortable at the same time.

That was the moment. This was my chance. I might never get a better one. I placed my hands on Jack's shoulders, pulling him down closer and closer until our lips could touch. The look on Jack's face gave it all away, that he wanted this too. The way his eyes went to my lips, pupils widening; I didn't miss it. It wasn't anywhere near as exhilarating as when our mouths did meet, though. I could feel him sigh on top of me, resting his weight and licking delicately at my bottom lip.

He pulled away with this big grin. "Wow, you taste so good, Alex," he nodded, looking like he was trying way too hard.

"You're so fucking cheesy, shut up, I don't taste like anything," I laughed, rolling my eyes at him and tugging him down for more.

Not that I needed to tug very hard; he seemed just as eager as me. It was drunken and a little bit sloppy, but I didn't even care. I couldn't stop smiling, and neither could Jack, and that was all I needed for it to be perfect.

We kissed to the sound of the party continuing downstairs, the sound of people having a good time, but I knew their night would never compare to mine now.

+ + +

I arranged to meet with Jack three days after the party. We hadn't spoken since then. Hadn't spoken since we'd fallen asleep on top of one another only to be woken up by the owner of the bed at ten in the morning -- where they had slept, I didn't know. Probably passed out on the floor or something.

Jack and I had dragged ourselves up and out the door, apparently the last ones to be thrown out of the house, which was a mess, quite frankly. I felt suddenly so damn lucky my parents didn't let me throw my own parties. This was the first time I'd ever seen the aftermath and it wasn't pretty. We got into Jack's car, feeling subdued with hangovers, and he wordlessly dropped me off at home. I tried to act as cheerful as possible when greeting my parents; they didn't like me drinking at parties, so I always lied and said I only ever had one beer. Honestly, drinking a lot of alcohol was bad for me in my condition. It could cause my blood to clot even more slowly than usual, so if I were to have an accident, there was an even higher risk of it becoming extremely serious. I always did my best to be careful though, and I liked drinking with my friends. If anything, it at least made me feel somewhat normal. But I wasn't going to tell any of this to them. I told them it had been a late night, and I went upstairs and collapsed into bed for a few more hours.

Over the next couple of days, Jack and I texted like normal, and neither of us mentioned the kiss. I started to worry maybe he'd just brushed it off as some drunken fun, or even worse, a drunken /mistake/. Once that thought entered my mind, I couldn't get it out, so I hastily made plans with him.

For the first time ever in our friendship, it felt awkward. Well, I guess I was okay, but Jack was definitely being awkward, perching on the edge of his bed like he was the guest.

"So, um... how's your weekend been?"

I rolled my eyes at the small talk. "Cold. It's October break, I haven't done very much except play video games and recover from that party."

Jack flushed at the mention of the party, looking unbelievably more uncomfortable than before.

"Yeah, uh... you hungry?" he changed the subject, rather lamely, and I shook my head.

"Had lunch before I came over."

"Right, right... do you... wanna watch a movie?"

I sighed. "Sure."

Maybe if I just waited it out, he would relax. A movie might even calm his nerves. I picked out a Batman movie and got comfortable on Jack's bed, sprawled over it like usual. I expected him to come and lie draped all over me, or cuddled up, like he always did, but instead he sat on his respective side of the bed politely and didn't budge.

Every time I shifted on the bed, he flinched. I got sick of it after thirty minutes of thick tension.

"What is the matter with you?!"

Jack jumped, looking at me with wide eyes. "W-what...?"

I crawled over to him, watching him shrink back until he was almost lying down, and I took advantage of that and straddled him. I leaned down, our faces very close, close enough for my breath to hit his skin, and he looked a whole mix of emotions I couldn't decipher.

"What. Is. The matter. With you?" I enunciated slowly, narrowing my eyes. "You've been all awkward. And you won't come near me."

Jack didn't seem to know what to say. "It's-- I-- it's..."

"It's the kiss, isn't it," I said decidedly, sitting up straight again on his hips, and it wasn't a question because I knew that was exactly what was bothering him.

He looked sheepish for a moment before nodding. I sighed, feeling a weight in my chest, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Or maybe I was just suppressing it really, really hard. But I didn't want to lose my best friend over my stupid feelings.

"Jack, look, if it was weird for you, you can just say, I'm not going to be totally crushed over it, it's not like it mattered, it's whatever, I just-- I can't believe you couldn't even talk to me about it, we're supposed to be best friends, I wouldn't have been mad at you, you always beat around the bush, I knew there was something wrong, I should've said something first because I know what you're like, I'm--," I was cut off in the middle of an unintentional ramble, lips suddenly smashed against my own.

Jack had pulled me down for the kiss this time. I made a muffled sound of shock, my hands flapping before they found purchase in his hair, a quiet moan slipping out when I settled into it. Jack chuckled against my lips and I blushed, kissing him harder, with much more need than before. It was Jack's turn to groan in surprise, feeling my tongue push and prod.

"I lied, it does matter, I wanted to kiss you for so long," I spoke desperately, words slurred into his mouth.

"Well I'm glad you kissed me, because I really liked it," Jack replied, squeezing my hips. "I just didn't know how to tell you I wanted to do it again."

"You could've just grabbed me and did this when I came in, I would've gotten the message. I told you, you always beat around the bush--."

"Shut up, Alex," Jack laughed.

I did, because then his tongue was curling into my mouth and everything was perfect.

+ + +

The day after, we went for a walk in the woods. It was an old tradition, going a walk in the woods at least once a fortnight. We took my family dog up there a while back and it was so serene and peaceful, so many different paths and deer trails to explore... we agreed we wouldn't quit until we knew all of it by heart. And it was nice for me because the likelihood of getting injured on a gentle stroll in the woods was pretty slim. I didn't need to worry as much about being careful.

We didn't take the dog on this day; just us two. Smiling and comfortable, none of the strange tension from yesterday. It gave me a good feeling, starting in my stomach and spreading through every vein. I wanted to ask Jack to be my boyfriend today. I decided I would seize that opportunity two hours into our walk, when we had reached a old hut. We knew of it, had seen it before on our travels. It was a simple stone building, small and rectangular with a large wooden push door, just a bathroom for hikers. It had clearly seen better days. Inside, it was dark and dingy, with one lone toilet stall, and only a little square skylight window on the roof. The automatic movement-sensitive bulb on the ceiling had long ago stopped working. There was a counter along the opposite wall from the stall, with a sink in the center, and a giant dirty mirror taking up most of the wall above it. We both went inside for a pee break, and Jack was sitting on the counter swinging his legs when I came out to wash my hands.

"I wanted to talk to you about somethin'," I started, wiping my hands dry on my jeans due to the lack of paper towels and an ancient temperamental hand-dryer.

"Mm?" Jack raised his eyebrows to show he was listening.

"About those kisses... I was wondering, well... was that... were they, like... a crush thing...?" I tried, frowning when my words just came out all wrong.

"What do you mean?" Jack swallowed, also frowning.

"Well, like... did you do it because you, y'know, have a crush on me?" I managed, sounding more confident than I felt, and my face was burning.

Jack's own face fell, bottom lip getting sucked into his mouth while he thought about it. Although he didn't look like he was thinking; more like panicking. Which wasn't exactly reassuring.

"Oh. Uh," he cleared his throat, hopping down off the counter. "No, Alex, we were drunk... I was just playing around, I didn't think you liked me, I didn't think it meant anything..."

I blinked at him, feeling my heart plummet into my stomach. "We kissed twice, Jack."

"I was just caught up in the moment, I didn't think it meant anything. You-- did you...?" he shuffled awkwardly, and now it was his turn to blush and feel stupid.

"Actually, yeah, Jack, I did," I retorted, feeling anger bubble at how much of a fucking coward he was. This wasn't fair. "Someone decent would maybe check in and say they only want some fun, you know? But not you. Thanks for that."

"Alex, I'm sorry... I-- I don't know what to say, I didn't mean to-- I didn't mean for you to get hurt," Jack shook his head, but the lack of emotion made me clench my fists.

"This feels like a fucking break-up and we weren't even dating, shut up! You were an idiot, just apologise!" I yelled.

"I'm sorry! Look, honestly, Alex, please, it's not you, it's me..."

His cliche words of regret were infuriating, and I swallowed over a lump in my throat, resisting the urge to punch him right in the mouth. I had never been a violent person, ever, apart from maybe punching school bullies at drunken parties... but I really, really wanted to break Jack's stupid fucking nose more than anything.

"Just fuck off, Jack," I snarled. "Fuck off home and don't talk to me. I don't wanna hear any of this cliche break-up bullshit when you didn't even like me in the first place. Not the way I liked you."

"Alex, don't be like that!" Jack frowned, raising his voice quite suddenly. "I'm just-- I'm trying to make it okay, I'm sorry, I didn't think you were so into it--."

I cut him off before he could make me feel any more humiliated, or before I really lost my temper and knocked his teeth out. "Fuck off, Jack!"

Jack looked hurt and rejected for a few seconds, though it was nothing compared to what I was feeling, and then his expression turned cold.

"Fine," he snapped, turning and storming out of the hut, and back the way we'd come.

I was going to have to head in that direction to get home too, sooner or later, but that was the last thing on my mind. I'd never felt more hurt in my life. He kissed me like it was something a little more than a cheap pull, like it could be real between us. Hot tears spilled and I shouted in rage at how fucking unfair it was that things just had to go wrong, just when they were going good. My fists stayed firmly clenched and that's when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.

Red-faced and red-eyed, crying like an idiot who didn't know any better. Apart from anything else, I just felt fucking humiliated, and it was all Jack's fault. But, it was also mine for being naive enough to think he would actually like me. I set my jaw.

Without Jack as a target, I figured I'd just use myself, and I swung my fist at the mirror. It felt good to watch the glass shatter, to watch my embarrassing reflection turn to nothing, for about half a second, and it set in what I'd done.

I burst a dam. My skin broke open and the river of blood poured free, coating me red. And I knew this river wasn't going to stop until it had ran dry.

+ + +

I came to on the dirty tiled floor, blinking in confusion and realising I was already weeping with the pain. This wasn't right, because the last thing I could remember was staring at my broken hand in horror. I must have blacked out and fallen over.

The pool of blood around my arm was alarming, and I felt sick with fear. I'd had slip-ups before, but I'd never had a serious bleed. Not like this. Not something that could kill me. But this would. I felt faint, my head was spinning, and the blood just wouldn't stop. It was all I could smell, and in a moment of clarity, I fumbled for my phone in my back pocket.

It didn't feel quite right though, and when I pulled it out and got a look, it was broken; I must have landed on it when I fell. I sobbed in anguish as it dawned on me, nobody would find me. Unless there was a mid-afternoon dog-walker, no-one would come. Only Jack knew I was here, and he was mad at me, clueless that I'd been stupid enough to basically kill myself.

I shifted on the floor, wondering if I could get up even though I felt weak and shaky, and that's when I realised it wasn't just my hand that was bleeding. There were shards of glass in my arm, and the side of my face was cut from the fall.

And I just couldn't stop bleeding. It was everywhere, puddling on the floor and soaking into all my clothes, staining my paling skin.

I was so faint. The more I tried to move, the more it just seemed pointless; I was going numb.

I was getting tired. The more blood that left me, the heavier my eyes got, and sleeping just sounded so good.

It was shockingly calm, hearing the slow thud of my heart in my ears as I drifted off. My skin was wet with blood but it was warm and lovely and I couldn't help myself. If I couldn't fight it, then I would just sleep, and it would be okay.

The river was dying to a trickle, and I let my eyes close.

+ + +

I was vaguely aware of pounding footsteps and then a gasp, shortly followed by a broken sob. My eyes weren't quite shut, almost but not quite, but I couldn't see anyway. Maybe some blurry movement on the floor. Perhaps the feet that had sounded like they were running just a second ago.

"Alex! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

It's Jack. He says fuck over and over, and I smiled at the sound of his lovely voice. It sounded distressed right now, but it's still lovely as ever. Well, I don't think I smiled, but I try to, and in my head, I'm smiling, even if my lips won't respond.

Jack sounded as if he was crying, and then I felt my body move even though I didn't tell it to. There was something pressed around my hand, and it hurt because it's broken, but I couldn't scream. The pain subsided after a moment though, despite the pressure on my hand, and I could make out through the blur that Jack was holding his hoodie to my worst wound.

Some more sobbing, some fumbling, some more fuck, fuck, fuck.

"My phone is out of fucking range, for fuck's sake, I need an ambulance!" Jack all but screamed himself, dropping his phone to the floor beside me with a clatter. I felt a tingle on my face and realised someone was stroking it, holding it. I could feel it despite how numb I was going. "I'm so sorry, Alex, I love you, I really do. You're my best friend and I do have a fucking crush on you, I lied before. I was so scared of ruining our friendship but I think I ruined it anyway. You weren't supposed to break a fucking mirror because of me. Remember what I said before our first kiss? I'm terrified of losing you, especially like this. Don't you fucking die on me, Alex, please get up. You have to wake up! I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Alex, please."

His hands were shaking and I could feel hot tears hitting my lips. He tasted so lovely and alive.

More fumbling -- he picked up his phone, desperately trying to make the call go through, but it didn't.

"Alex, Alex, please, I hope you can hear me," he said breathlessly, still crying. "I'm going to need to leave you, to try and get a signal on my phone so I can get you help, but you need to fucking stay alive! Just-- just keep breathing, fucking Christ, keep breathing, I'm going to help you."

I felt lips touch my forehead.

Pounding footsteps. Fading this time, rather than getting louder, and then he was gone.

+ + +

Bright fucking lights in my eyes were the bane of my existence.

Well, those and living with haemophilia.

After a moment of blinking, I recognised the beeping sounds and the smell around me, and I could feel a wire in my arm.

Hospital.

A little more sleep wouldn't hurt.

+ + +

When I next woke up, I felt far more prepared for it, and this time, I had a visitor.

Jack jumped in his seat, gripping the hand that didn't have a wire, but it was bandaged, so his hold was loose and gentle.

"You're awake," he breathed, smiling like I'd never seen him smile before.

My stomach felt fluttery, and I smiled weakly myself. "I'm awake."

"It was touch-and-go for a while, Lex," he told me softly.

"Was it?"

"Mhmm. You've been sleeping for, like, two days," he chuckled. "It was scary but after the first day, the doctors said you'd be fine. Your parents left a while ago to get themselves some lunch, and Rian and Zack said they'll come in later. It's fucking lucky you've got a common blood type, by the way."

"Yeah, at least I was blessed with that," I agreed, finding myself laughing with him.

We both died down our laughter and went quiet after a moment, our gazes dropping to my heavily bandanged hand. I had dressings up my arms as well, and I could feel a small one on my face -- I probably had stitches in my cheek. My parents probably weren't going to let me leave the house for weeks out of pure worry that I would stupidly endanger my own life again by outright doing something that would definitely make me bleed, but I'd learned my lesson.

"I heard everything you said, when I was... unconscious, I guess. Kind of out of it, kind of aware of things? I don't know, I just-- I heard you," I spoke up nervously.

Jack swallowed audibly and I looked up in time to see his cheeks flush.

"I meant it, Alex. Every word. And I am so, so sorry. I do like you. Kissing you was wonderful. I was just so scared that it would fuck up our friendship a-and I lied about not liking you because... because I am bisexual, and I'm fine with that, I came out a long time ago, but it's just... I've never actually had real feelings for another boy before. Just lust. Hooked up with them, but never fell for them. They didn't appeal to me that way. But you... you're like my perfect match. And I... it was really scary, okay? I'm sorry."

His speech made my eyes well up, and I shook my head at him with a fond smile. "Don't be sorry. I was the idiot who punched a mirror when I should know better. I-- I understand now, why you said what you said. It is a little scary, but it's alright."

"It is alright," Jack said firmly, standing up. I blinked in surprise and he leaned down, lips ghosting my own. "It's alright because you're alive, and I have you now. You're the only one for me, Alex. Don't you forget that. You're the only one for me. If you want me, then take me. I'd be honoured to be yours."

He gave me a hard kiss, as if trying to seal the deal. My hands twitched but I left them where they were -- one was useless in its big padded bandage and the other I was afraid to move because of the wire; it felt weird. I did my best to kiss back with just as much passion though, to show him I meant it. Apology accepted. I wanted him.

When he pulled away, both of us panting, I gave him my biggest smile.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to be my boyfriend in the woods."

Jack flushed again. "My answer is undoubtedly yes."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. I really fucking like you," I reminded him, my chest feeling like it might burst with happiness.

"I really fucking like you too," Jack grinned, and he kissed me again.

Mission accomplished.