The abyss
Yeah, breathe it until we're high
Healthy isn't fun or amusing
-- Allie X, Prime
Existing near Laith was much simpler when he wasn’t second-guessing every single thing Laith said and obsessing over how to reply or how to act. He’d forgotten how nice it was to just be himself around Laith—the entire reason he’d even pursued this in the first place. It took him a minute to relax; his mind was persistent, but as smoke entered his lungs and altered his brain, he began to let loose.
They passed the blunt back and forth, sitting next to each other on the couch. Laith didn’t take as many hits, either because he was already drunk and didn’t want to completely lose it, or because he thought Theodore needed it more. Considering how visible Theodore’s anxiety was, he’d put his money on that second guess. Plus, Laith had never cared to keep from going off the rails. If anything, he pursued it.
As the night progressed, he found himself kicking back a bit, telling stupid jokes and saying stupid things with no fear, just how they used to do. It reminded him of the camping trip, when they’d sat around being stupid for an entire afternoon. It’d been fine then and it was fine now—more than fine, really. He didn’t know why he’d built Laith up to be this hard-to-please, judgmental demon in his mind when the guy was literally the opposite of that. He’d had so many legitimate reasons to punch Theodore’s face in tonight that the fact he was sitting next to him instead, cracking jokes only evidenced how cool he was. Earlier tonight was the first time he’d fought Theodore on anything and of course it’d been over his stupid, broken, insane brain. He wasn’t well—he really wasn’t.
“I’m really…” His thoughts scattered for a brief moment, losing themselves in the smoke that fogged his mind. Thankfully, they managed to get in line and form a new sentence, rather than disappear into the ether completely. He passed the joint back to Laith, eyelids heavy. “I’m actually not doing well.”
“What do you mean by that? You’ve said it like, three times already.”
“I mean my head isn’t working right. I am going crazy; you weren’t wrong about that. I’ve been having these insane thoughts lately…” His eyebrows furrowed a bit, eyes clouded over. “They poison my brain and I totally fall for it. I don’t know why, but… I thought you hated me. Like, I really did.”
Laith scowled, cherry burning between his lips, pinched securely between two fingers. When the blunt left his face, he sucked a breath through his teeth. “Was it something I said?”
“No, it wasn’t based on anything. I’ve just—I’ve hated myself so much lately; I don’t know. I feel like shit, like a fucking loser. I don’t know why. I hit my hand on purpose last night.”
Smoke blew into the air. At this point, the living room was pretty foggy; the low-light made it easy to see the smoke that lingered between them, putting a blurry haze across Laith’s features.
“How…?” Laith’s tone was cautious, almost apprehensive. Any reason for that flew right over Theodore’s head, too high for critical thinking right now.
“I hit it on the door frame. I also bit it in class. I think—I’ve been asking you to hurt me because maybe I deserve it. Like, maybe I should feel pain.”
A hand offered the blunt back. Laith’s fingers were still bruised where Theodore had bit them. “What else have you done?”
“Nothing; most of it is just in my head. I’ll see a knife and I’ll think, maybe it should be gutting me, or I’ll see a fork and think, it should be going through my hand. It sucks. It—it’s scary.” His eyes dropped to the blunt between his fingers, almost done. “I don’t… actually want any of that to happen.” His voice quivered, lips pouting for the next part. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
A hand touched his hair very softly. “I’ll need you to steer clear of that.”
“I know.”
“No, Theo; I’m serious. It’s the kind of stuff that if you start, it’ll be really hard to stop. You’ll never really stop.”
He turned the joint around, rolling it between two fingers, eyebrows furrowed. He knew that, if he weren’t utterly baked right now, his hands would be shaking. In silence, he brought the joint up and finished it. “I’m sorry.” His words mingled with the smoke.
“C’mere.”
The hand on his head dropped to the nape of his neck, pulling him close for a hug. With his face in the crook of Laith's neck, he closed his eyes. The arm across his shoulder hugged him, supporting the weight of his back, while the other fastened the hold. He felt safe, wrapped up in the warmth of Laith's body, soothed by tobacco, encased in amber. The way Laith squeezed him almost pulled him into his lap; his knee touched Laith's thigh, foot brushing Laith's shin. Absently, his fingers played with what was left of the rolling paper.
"How do you know I won't do anything?" His voice was small enough to keep from disturbing the room, just under the music that played on the TV. This close to each other, Laith could hear him just fine.
"I don't know that. I'm trusting you."
His thumb and forefinger squeezed the butt of the joint. It felt like an accordion. "Do I need meds?"
"Maybe."
"Should I see someone?"
"Yeah, I think so."
He brought the butt of the joint up for inspection; it poked from behind Laith's arm, pinched between his fingers. Turning it around, he noticed a sort of filter within the paper, a zigzag that, when squished, sprung back up. That must be what Laith had needed the extra paper for. "You're so fancy, making a filter for this like we wouldn't smoke it in under twenty minutes."
"You should always have one; it wastes less weed."
His eyebrows bounced—huh. On second thought, that made total sense, but really… who would've thought? "Because you can smoke to the filter without burning yourself?" he guessed.
"Yeah."
He flicked the butt toward the television.
“When did you start feeling like this?” There was emotion in Laith’s voice, just not one Theodore could identify. His tone was stern on the outside, yet soft beneath the surface, careful, on the verge of trembling. Unfortunately, Theodore’s current state of mind failed to make any sense of it; he had no idea what it meant or how Laith felt asking that question.
“I don’t know. I’ve always had this negative thing inside me, like an urge to hate myself every time I fuck something up, but recently, it’s gotten much worse, more violent. I don’t know where it came from.” He felt his eyebrows scowl. “Ignoring it used to be easy.”
“Do your parents know?”
As soon as his brain decoded that question, he realized the harmful voice in his mind belonged to his mother. Mentally impaired, he couldn’t find any meaning in that, though. “All they know is I’m haunted, even if they don’t wanna believe it. Doctors have been saying that for years.”
“I’ve noticed a correlation between that kind of thing and the hauntings. It seems all of us are miserable. Even Kant couldn’t escape it.”
“Who’s that?”
“A philosopher. I’ve mentioned him before; he’s a big name in the field of metaphysics.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t think that’s the reason you’ve been asking me to hit you, though.” Laith’s comment pulled him away from the hug a bit, just enough to look him in the face. There wasn’t much of anything to read there, be it an expression or a sentiment; Laith just looked really calm, with relaxed shoulders and half-lidded eyes. If there was something there, Theodore failed to pick up on it. “I just think you’re a horny little shit.”
As a smirk cut through Laith’s face, he realized that was satire. Okay, not so bad; he wasn’t completely gone yet. A grin pushed into his cheeks despite himself. “Shut up,” he spoke around the grin, playfully shoving Laith on the arm. “You get off on it as much as I do!”
“I never claimed otherwise.”
“Then you can’t judge me!”
“I’m just saying your relationship with pain is complicated.”
The hug naturally undid itself, leaving them both sitting really close to each other, with one of Theodore’s legs folded over Laith’s thigh.
“It’s about the thrill when we’re together,” Laith continued. “It’s that way for me too.”
Hm. If he stopped to think about it, there was a difference—a big difference—between how he usually felt when asking Laith to hurt him and how he’d felt hitting his hand on the door frame last night; excitement and glee versus something much darker. It honestly terrified him. At the time, all he could feel was the emptiness that ate him up inside, and if he’d happened to fall into the tracks while a train barreled towards him, he didn’t think it would’ve been much of a tragedy. That thought scared him now, but in that moment, getting run over would’ve been peaceful.
He leaned closer to Laith, suddenly freaked out; his arms hugged himself, head resting on Laith’s shoulder. The arm that fell across his back was very much welcome, even if it was much looser this time around, relaxed. Laith must not be so worried about him anymore. He was safe after all, at home with someone who cared about him.
“Sorry for being crazy,” he murmured. “Part of me didn’t want to believe you actually care.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know; I just never thought you would. I didn’t think I’d ever be good enough for you, I mean… you’re so much better than me at everything.”
“That’s exactly how I feel about you.”
His eyebrows furrowed. The way Laith held him made it impossible to pass him a glance, but he did it anyway, glancing at Laith’s neck. “I literally suck at everything.”
“I do too, but you think I’m perfect anyway. It’s about that.”
His lips parted with absolutely nothing on his tongue. There was no argument to be made because Laith wasn’t wrong; he just didn’t like to hear it, or rather, he didn’t want to hear it. Even though, logically, he knew Laith thought of him the same way, his heart still had a hard time convincing itself that any of it was true—that he was worthy of love at all, much less Laith’s. Then again, he was pretty sure Laith went through the same thing every time a compliment left him. It was always much easier to overlook someone else’s flaws.
Their hands grazed each other’s skin as they talked, drawing invisible patterns along the length of their collar bones, around the shape of their jaws. Somehow, it was the closest he’d ever felt to Laith, despite the space that physically separated them. They could’ve been across the globe from one another and he’d still feel the same way—this wasn’t about physical closeness. There had been multiple times when, after sleeping together, he’d left with the distinct impression he still didn’t know Laith at all, that he hadn’t learned anything about him. It brought to mind Laith’s various partners, how they probably didn’t know him either. He’d been at this for a while, and since he didn’t want anyone getting too close, this lack of connection in bed must be intentional. Theodore felt closer to Laith on the couch, talking in hushed tones because this part of him was inaccessible to most of the world. Seeing it was a privilege.
The way Laith looked at him filled his chest and pulled his heart from the depths of the abyss, sewing it shut for a moment. He forgot all about it. Tonight, he was whole again. He could touch Laith’s face, listen to his voice and let the warmth that came with it envelop him in a hug. Life could be like this forever. Life could be like this forever—all he had to do was not fuck it up. He already had it, after all. What he had to lose was everything.
The subjects of their conversations barely mattered; he forgot half of them as soon as they changed to something else. It was the feeling in his chest that he cared to preserve, how precious this moment was. He found it very important not to take another night like this for granted, despite how easily they’d be able to recreate it. What if tomorrow never came? He could die in twenty seconds. He didn’t—he touched Laith’s face and met it with a gentle kiss—but the thought remained, the reality that he could’ve died just now. He burned this feeling into the bed of his heart just in case he’d need it later. It could save him.
The sound of the girls’ alarms reminded him of the passage of time, that the sun had come up—it was Friday—and he’d need to leave for class soon. An instinct as old as time pushed him off the couch, wrapped a hand around Laith’s wrist and pulled him across the living room. The girls would come out at any moment.
Instead of fighting it, Laith quietly followed him back to his room, letting him close the door behind them. An unspoken agreement passed between them, that neither of them wanted guests right now; this moment wasn’t open to the public and it wasn’t over yet. Thedore had to go soon, but not before a proper goodbye. Laith understood this. A hug met him halfway, closing two arms around him just as he hugged Laith back, burying his face in his neck, breathing in the freshness of hope. Last night had lifted two hundred pounds off his shoulders.
Theodore didn’t go right away; his first period was only at eight. Hidden in the privacy of his room, the two of them sat on his bed and whispered a continuation of the last topic, a string of words that grew smaller and smaller, not because they were running out of subjects, but because the knowledge of their imminent parting grew too difficult to ignore. They could speak of 80’s band members forever, but as the clock ticked down, was that the last thing they wanted to say to each other?
In time, conversation died; all they cared to do was sit in comfortable silence and enjoy their last few minutes together. Their backs rested against the headboard of his bed, Laith’s arm across his shoulders, his head tucked under Laith’s chin. A thumb followed the bumps of his knuckles, Laith’s fingers touching his palm. They weren’t technically holding hands, but it was close—closer than he’d ever thought possible.
The moment the apartment grew perfectly silent, he knew it was time to go. Laith noticed the quiet too and turned Theodore’s hand around to check the time—7:30. Their eyes met.
Before Laith had the chance to say anything, Theodore hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was brief, in parting, but much harder-hitting than any of the others. “You should sleep over,” he suggested, hopping off the bed. “I mean, you’re already here.” He toed his shoes on in the silence that followed.
“Yeah, I should probably go. I’m working tonight.”
“You can just leave when you’re up. I’m not locking you in. The door, it—”
“I know,” Laith cut him off. His tone was too soft to take the wrong way and the hand that fell on Theodore’s shoulder definitely helped. When their eyes met again, all he found were round edges. “Thanks, really.”
That was the end of it. Somehow, he wasn’t even upset.
“I’ll catch the elevator with you, then.”
***
Strangely enough, Laith decided against putting his shirt on. The wine had dried by now, and sure, it’d hardened the fabric a bit, but it was better than nothing, right? No, he preferred wearing his jacket without a shirt. Theodore couldn’t help commenting on the look, how closely he resembled a stripper like this—he wasn’t against it. That last remark put a big smile on Laith’s face.
They didn’t part ways downstairs. Even though the campus was in the opposite direction of Cantaloupe, Laith walked him to class anyway, filling the air with pointless non sequiturs that made him laugh. At this point, he was pretty convinced Laith never actually intended for his discussions to reach any logical conclusions; they were all thought experiments. Talking was the point. Sometimes, the way he spoke of certain subjects pushed him to notice things about himself—about his subconscious—and sometimes, it helped him connect dots within the subject itself, expanding it in his mind. Mostly though, it all just made Theodore laugh, which was probably what Laith had been going for in the first place. Sometimes, it was really just that simple.
As they approached the gate, the speed of their walk decreased and conversation grew scarce. In a moment, they found themselves standing wordlessly next to each other. Their eyes met as a natural response to impending goodbyes, reliant on the other’s reaction, what should happen next. Since neither of them had anything in mind, they ended up just staring quietly at each other, waiting. The students that marched onto campus avoided them.
“I’ll see you later tonight?” Theodore tried.
“Yep.”
Still, they didn’t move. As seconds ticked away, their smiles grew bigger. Well? Theodore was a second away from bursting into laughter again. They were so stupid.
“Alright, alright, fine,” Laith spoke with a grin, feet taking him a couple of steps back. “I’ll see you later.”
This was the first time Theodore went to class with a smile on his face.
***
His mind was too wrapped up in last night—and still high—to focus on the lecture; all he could do was sit in silence and stare off into the distance. If he could see himself right now, he was dead sure he looked exactly like a cartoon character in love with the droopy eyes, the aloof smile and the cartoon hearts floating above his head. It really didn’t matter if he looked like an idiot; he hadn’t felt this good in a long time and he was going to enjoy it. The only person who mattered was his very official boyfriend who thought he—with all his faults—was the absolute best. There was nothing better than that. He could scream, honestly, but managed to contain himself with a big smile, hands squeezed into tight little balls.
“We’re dating,” he told everyone. He’d barely taken a seat, already speaking over the girls—their conversation topic was over; they were talking about this now. “Laith and I. He asked me just last night, or actually, I asked him a long time ago but he kept rejecting me. Last night, he finally said yes. We also had this like, really eye-opening conversation where I told him everything I was feeling and why and he told me I have nothing to worry about because he likes me anyway,” he quickly continued, before anyone could speak up. “It made me feel a lot better. I’m a lot more confident about us now.”
Both hands brought his burger up for a bite. The end of his remarks cast some silence over the table; he saw the glance Hannah threw in Daisy’s direction and the raised eyebrows on Nadia’s face. Jessie was the only one who didn’t seem particularly affected, with sad eyes and droopy shoulders. Was she okay? As soon as that question crossed his mind, he remembered Justin’s texts from last night—how serious had that been? He’d never actually learned the depths of their feelings for each other. Justin seemed to like her a lot. Jessie, on the other hand—he had no clue. She must like him a lot more than he’d thought if this non-breakup was affecting her so deeply.
His silence prompted Hannah to speak. “Congrats, Theo. I know you’ve wanted that for a while and I’m happy it finally happened. You deserve someone who’s as passionate as you are about love and stuff.”
“That’s really very nice,” Nadia softly added. Her eyes stared at him big and round, a hand over her heart. “You’ll make a great boyfriend.”
“Congrats.” Jessie forced a smile. He’d never seen her do that.
“Are you okay?” he asked, even though he knew the answer to that.
Her shoulders bounced into a noncommittal shrug. “I’ll be okay; I don’t wanna ruin your moment. You should enjoy it.”
“Is this about Justin?”
She kept her eyes down, fingers playing with the straw in her cup.
“Did you break up?” he tried.
Their eyes met. “Why don’t we talk about that later? I want you to tell me about Laith. Is he as excited as you are?”
His lips parted—no, he shouldn’t. They’d circle back to that when she felt like talking about it; he didn’t have to pull it out of her. She wasn’t the kind of person who kept secrets, especially from her friends; she just needed some time. He could respect that.
He tugged on some of the wrapping around his burger, eyes dropping to it. “Yeah, I think so. He’s just… more mature about it, you know. Plus, he’s been in relationships before, so this isn’t like, super new to him. If anything, I’m embarrassing and predictable. He walked me to class this morning and neither one of us wanted him to leave.”
“That’s adorable.”
“You’re so cute,” Nadia added.
It looked like Hannah really wanted to hold back a smile, but couldn’t do it. “Okay, that’s pretty cute,” she admitted.
His eyes moved to Daisy next, who hadn’t said a word since he’d sat down. She seemed completely unbothered by this conversation, too busy with her lunch to pay it any mind. Actually, she looked like she wasn’t even listening.
“Do you have anything to say to that, Daisy?”
She glanced up at him for the fraction of a second. “Sure, congrats.”
“Is that it?”
One of her shoulders bounced. “Is there anything else you’d like me to say?” Their eyes met properly this time, holding the stare.
“Yeah, I’m kind of waiting for that apology,” he told her.
“For what, being honest?”
“For hurting my feelings.”
“Well, I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, but I stand by what I said. What you did just now is proof of that.”
“I had really big news to share.”
“Which you assumed was more important than anything we were talking about.”
“Am I wrong?”
Her eyebrows raised. “Wow.”
“Theo,” Hannah cut in, “we’re all really happy for you. You’ve been sharing a lot more recently and I really appreciate that; it helps us know you a little better. What Daisy is asking of you is just some patience. We’re not all having the best days of our lives right now, but that doesn’t mean you should keep from enjoying yours. Maybe get back to us when we’re doing better?”
“I’m always patient,” he rebutted. “What’s going on? Is this about the breakup?”
“We were never dating,” Jessie corrected him.
His stomach dropped. “But you’re still seeing each other, right?”
“No.”
The hand around his throat squeezed—he felt responsible for that. His mind immediately went back to lunch yesterday, his mean little act, airing Justin’s dirty laundry for everyone to see. He supposed, at the time, he’d wanted it to happen. Even now, he still felt like it’d been for the best, that he should’ve done it. If he were in her shoes, he’d want to know that the guy he was seeing was in love with someone else. It was heartbreaking, but he wouldn’t want to be someone’s second choice.
“You were right; he is in love with someone else,” Jessie explained. “I told him we could keep it casual, but he didn’t want that, so.”
“What do you mean, he didn’t want that? Everything was fine. He wanted it until yesterday.”
“Yeah, well.” She shrugged. “He didn’t want it forever; he wanted us to be together at one point.”
Really? Shit, if that was true, then he’d saved her from a huge mess. The pain she felt right now was nothing compared to what she’d feel after a failed relationship of months, or even years. He’d never actually had an experience like that, but he was pretty sure he was right on that one; it just made sense. Sure, they could’ve tried to work it out, but wouldn’t that just make things worse? Years spent with a guy who could only think of someone else—no, thanks.
He reached across the table and gave her arm a squeeze. “You’re gonna be okay,” he reassured her.
She offered him a non-smile.
“So,” Daisy cut in, keeping her eyes down at her lunch, “are the stars finally lining up?” Her tone was clearly ironic, but he decided against antagonizing her right away. Instead, he squinted.
“They are, actually. Things are looking better.”
“For who?”
Their eyes met—hers were as sharp as knives.
“I know you’re doing well,” she continued. “Is that what you meant?”
“Well, sure, but I also mean in general.”
She nodded minutely, placing her burger down. “What else is in store for us, then? Who’s supposed to break up and who’s supposed to get together? Please, lend me your wisdom, tell me of all the ways I’m defying the universe.”
His heart pounded against his ribs, blood growing warm. He breathed in deliberately, trying to keep his composure. This would not get to him. “You’re not doing anything wrong,” he spoke while mindful of the tone of his voice and how smooth it was. It almost shook. “What I meant yesterday was that some people I know have feelings for people who don’t deserve them, but don’t feel the same for the ones who are head over heels for them. It’s a specific thing.”
“Yes, specific to Emily, you and Laith; Jessie’s just an unfortunate side-effect.”
“Daisy,” Jessie practically sighed, exhausted. “Don’t be like that.”
“No, he didn’t have to say anything about Justin; he could be in love with a million different women, Jess, and still put you first. He can still love you the most.”
“But he doesn’t,” Theodore cut in. “That’s the point—he doesn’t. Emily comes first.”
“If she did, he would’ve asked her out instead.”
“Not everyone is as calculating as you. Some people are scared to lose the one person they love the most; it’s easier to hurt in secret.”
“Then he doesn’t want Emily as his girlfriend. If he really did, he would’ve asked her. Just look at you, Theo; you couldn’t hide from Laith either—you wanted him too much. Jessie’s the one Justin wants.”
“He’s literally been in love with Emily for years.”
“Which means he’s had years’ worth of opportunities to ask her out and still chose not to do it. Now tell me why that is.”
His own throat choked him, heart hammering into his chest. “Because she means too much to him!” he practically shouted.
“As a friend. She’s too valuable as a friend for him to want anything else with her. He prefers her as a friend who he likes or he would’ve already made a pass on her.”
“Oh my god,” Jessie blurted out. Her eyes were cast aside, deep in thought. “He doesn’t want her as his girlfriend.”
“Yes, he does!” Theodore rebutted. “He’s just too scared to ask! If she asked him, I know he’d say yes.”
“Stop living in a world of speculation,” Daisy interjected. Her firm, matter-of-fact tone made him crazy; he wanted to grab her throat and choke it.
Holy shit, he’d let it get to him. His eyes stared at her open wide, lungs stuck on a breath.
“What if this, what if that isn’t data,” she continued, infuriatingly. “You have to work with what we know. She clearly hasn’t asked him for a reason. Why do you think anything between them would change now when it hasn’t for years? They don’t want it to change. This is fine.”
Suddenly, Jessie got up; the sound of her chair scraping the floor turned everyone’s attention to her. A hand grabbed her jacket, legs stepping away from the table. “I gotta go,” she hurriedly told them. “I need to talk to him.”
“Jessie!” His call was ignored as she hurried through the cafeteria. He slapped the table with frustration, heat rising in his chest—goddammit!
In his peripherals, Daisy tossed a used napkin down and got up as well. “Stop trying to sabotage their relationship,” she warned. “You’re supposed to be her friend.”
“You’re supposed to be her friend!” Theodore shouted. “Justin’s going to break her fucking heart!”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do!”
“I could say that about your relationship as well. I could say that about any relationship, but I won’t.” Taking her jacket from the back of her chair, Daisy turned to leave. Nadia and Hannah ended up doing the same.
“Hannah!”
His protest caused Hannah to hesitate for a moment, dark eyes finding his face. He’d never really met any softness there, so expecting it now would be ridiculous; instead, he looked for compassion, understanding—any sign she’d either taken his side or at least not taken Daisy’s. Her eyes weren’t soft or sharp, though, without a single trace of what he’d looked for. He couldn’t read her at first, but as soon as she glanced him down, he saw contempt written all over.
“Take a breath, Theo.”
That was all she said before leaving.
Holy fucking shit. His hands closed into fists, knuckles pressed against the surface of the table—fuck! What was that? What had just happened? God, he wanted to punch someone—Daisy, preferably. How could she antagonize him like that? She didn’t even know what she’d been talking about, yet the smugness in her voice, so sure of herself—it just lit his chest on fire. What a bitch. No, she wasn’t a bitch, but she was—god, she was so annoying! Infuriating! A scream came up his throat, trapped behind his teeth. Swallowing it down, he slammed the table—fine! Let Jessie get back with Justin and have her heart broken; what did he care? It didn’t affect him at all. She might’ve ignored everything he’d said, but at least he’d said it; his part was done. There was nothing else he could do.
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