Status: in progress

Stomachaches

I Didn't Mean To Make You Hurt

Soon after the guys had eaten and we left the restaurant, Alex's hand immediately found mine, gripping my cold flesh in his warm, strong hands. The remainder of our journey downtown was a blur to me. I allowed Alex to pull me throughout the shops, and occasionally answering a question when asked. The rest was irrelevant, although, the feeling of electricity when Alex's skin brushed mine was still there, and as strong as ever. We pulled into the driveway of our house, getting out of the car, Alex's hand not once leaving my own. Him and I followed the others into the house, taking off our shoes before Alex pulled me into the kitchen, opening the basement door and pulling me down, the door slamming behind us. He lead me through his room, and it felt like something straight out of a romance novel. We sat down on his bed, and I crossed my legs in front of me, the small lamp in the room glinting in the middle of his eyes. He stared at me for a moment, taking in my face through the darkness. Soon enough, he was much closer to me, and he was the cross legged one. I was on his lap, to his own desire, my legs wrapped around his waist. I lean forward, pressing my forehead to his. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"What's all this about?" I ask quietly, feeling his hands tighten on their position on my hips.

"I love you." He murmurs, causing my heart to practically explode. I knew he loved me, as I knew that I loved him. But hearing him say it in a moment such as this merely added go the excitement.

"You shouldn't." I reply shakily, closing my eyes tighter.

"Jack, I'm never, ever going to stop loving you. So I highly suggest that you get used to it." Alex replies, his voice filled with determination and confidence, something I found extremely sexy in him. Not only was he sexy, he was in love with me. We were finally together, and I had ruined it once before. I didn't plan on doing it again.

"Alex, I-" I was beginning to say, 'I love you, too', but apparently he had other plans. His lips attached to mine in the darkness, and I kissed right back. Finally, I had him and once again I felt the empty void inside of me filling up, and I couldn't get enough of him. Right when I thought a make-out session was going to happen, he pulled away, the warm electric sensation on my lips lingering a bit longer. The kiss was short and sweet, yet still managed to leave me lightheaded. "I love you, too."

"So, Jack Bassam Barakat," Alex says carefully, looking up at me as he stares into my eyes, his grip tightening around my hands. "Will you be my boy again?"

I nodded furiously before slinging my arms around his neck and enveloping him in a tight embrace as I began to shake in his arms. Have you ever felt...full? And no, not with food, but with emotion. No longer did I feel the emptiness of sadness in my body, but I was filled with happiness and joy, and felt nothing but good. Alex held me back, murmuring things I couldn't hear over my own heavy, excited breathing.

We pulled away from each other, his eyes staring into mine once more.

"What now?" I ask stupidly, blushing when he began to chuckle.

"Well, now, we're going to talk about this eating thing."

"No, no, no." I shake my head repeatedly, before climbing off of his lap and leaning against the wall. What was I supposed to tell my boyfriend? That I flat out hate myself? Or that I wanted to be skinny and good enough for him? "I can't talk about that, Lex."

Alex sighs, running a hand through his hair before looking up to me. "How about this, every time I ask you a question and you answer it honestly, I'll give you a shot."

"Do you really think you can bribe me with alcohol?" I raise my eyebrows as he stares at me skeptically. Well, I guess I could get trashed tonight. Alex would take care of me. So I was good. "Because you're right."

Austin laughs before standing up and helping me off of the bed.

"I'm gonna head out for a smoke, or two." I inform him. I hear him sigh but I head outside deciding to ignore it. I close the door behind me and took a seat, pulling my carton out of my back pocket. I flip the lid open, finding my lighter inside as I knew it would be. I pull out a cigarette as the door opens behind me, and Alex comes out with a bottle of whiskey and a plastic cup. He sits down beside me, watching as I look at him with a dubious expression.

"Why didn't you tell me we had this?" I ask curiously, lighting my cigarette and taking a drag. "I would have loved drinking at home."

He shrugs. "You never asked." He smirks, leaning back. "So, are we gonna have a little drunk Q and A here?"

I nod, rolling my eyes. "Since it means a lot to you, then yes. I will answer your questions." I answer, trying to sound more annoyed than scared. But the truth is, I didn't think that Alex would be able to handle it.

"Alright, first question-"

"What are you? A fucking reporter? Ask these like a normal person, babe." I giggle, taking a drag off my cigarette as he grins at me.

"Alright, alright." He laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. "So when did you start having, uh, issues with eating?"

"When I started mutilating myself." I answer bluntly, raising the cigarette to my lips. I looked over to Alex, who instead of pouring me some fucking whiskey, he was raising his eyebrows like he wanted more.

"When exactly did you start hurting yourself?" He asks quietly, his eyes burning into mine.

"Eighth grade." I mutter, looking away, and hearing the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. I'm handed a cup a quarter full of whiskey and I take it in one go, watching Alex cringe.

"Why?" He asks, taking the cup back from me since I had downed all of it's contents.

Things had gone this way for I don't know how long, and nor do I remember.

This morning I was back to waking up alone. I found myself in Alex's bed, the covers tucked carefully around me. I sat up, thanking whatever God there is for there not being any windows downstairs. Although the nightstand lamp was on. Next to the lamp, was a glass of water and a couple of pills that I assumed were Advil. There was also a note. I picked up the pills and popped them into my mouth, before downing them with the glass of water. Then, with a heavy heart, I picked up the note.

'Needed some time to think.'

That was all it said. And I began to worry. Think? Holy shit. What did I tell him last night?! Did I tell him everything?! He can't known everything. He can't. No, no, no, no. I tumbled out of Alex's bed and scrambled into his bathroom, staring in the mirror to find the familiar monster that I had gotten used to. Those same, bloodshot and poisoned eyes were sadder than they usually were as my eyes began to well up with tears. I shook my head repeatedly before looking up so make sure that I wasn't still drunk and hallucinating. I opened my eyes to find that yes, I was awake, and yes, I was still alone. I stared at my body in the mirror, finding the bony frame covered in scrapes and bruises that were very clearly from last night.

I shook my head again as the tears began to rush down my cheeks, falling down onto my chest as I sobbed to myself, knowing that my love had left me. I felt dirty. I always knew i wasn't enough for him. Could I be enough? Maybe I needed to make myself better? As I was only in my boxers, I turned the bath tub on and stepped in, sitting down in the tub after turning it onto the hottest setting. It felt like it was scalding me to death.

'It's just cleaning you. It's just cleaning you. It's just cleaning you.' My head repeated over and over as I curled into a ball and laid down in the bathtub, the tears flowing down my cheeks mixing with the fiery water that was surrounding my body. I closed my eyes in attempt to stop the tears. That was all I recalled before I fell back asleep.