Page 47 of Choke Up

I'm so numb, I can barely feel the cold anymore. I've been walking for hours. I can't remember where I've been, but I found myself on a bench outside Ellis' dorm. His roommate got home a few minutes ago, but I don't know if he's in there. I've been sitting here for I don't know how long, staring at the unblock button on Ellis' name. I'm afraid of what's going to come up once I push it. I'm ready for his anger, but I'm not sure I can handle his pain.

I don't know how to start the conversation I know we need to have. I don't know how to say the things I need to say, how to apologize, how to take it all back. I can't take any of it back. A sick part of me doesn't want to take any of it back.

He's right that I felt something, but he doesn't know the half of it. What I feel is more than just physical. It's all-encompassing. Possessive. Obsessive. I eat, sleep, and breathe thoughts of him. I want to burrow inside him and never come up for air. I want to suffocate in his skin, to drown in his sweat and cum and blood. I want to take everything he has to give, everything he is, and use it to fuel my sickness.

But I also know I can't have him, and while my relationship with Elliot is a big part of it, it's not just Elliot. It's not even all the complications of coming out as… whatever I am. I can't even begin to process all of that.

I don't know how to be with him, much less love him the way he deserves. I hurt him, and I'll continue to hurt him. Because I'm a selfish bastard that will take and take until there's nothing left, and I have little to nothing to give back. Because I can't stop myself once he's close enough.

But what do I say to explain my behavior?

I want to fuck you senseless on an hourly basis, but no one can know.

I want to split you apart, but I don't want to hurt you.

I want you to be as obsessed with me as I am with you, but I can't ever love you. At least not out loud.

I have feelings for you that feel too big and intense for my body and brain to handle, and I don't know what it means.

I love your brother more than I love myself, and his opinion means more to me than either of our happiness.

My phone vibrates with a text notification.

Elliot: Can you check on Ellis? I haven't heard from him since he got back to campus last night.

Elliot: Mom got a notification that his HSA card was used, and he isn't answering his phone.

Shit. That means he went to a doctor, right? Fuck fuck fuck.

I can't pussy around. I need to talk to him, find out what I can do to make this right.

Gabe: Yeah, man. I'll find him.

Elliot: Thanks. See you Sunday.

Gabe: See you then.

The moment I unblock Ellis' number, my phone goes nuts. I nearly chuck it across the small courtyard outside the dorm, as if smashing it against the ground would make everything go away. Every ding and vibration from the notifications jackhammer against my nerves. Twenty-two texts since my three-word reply to his earlier messages and voicemail. I only read the last one, sent earlier today.

Ellis: We need to talk.

With a dry swallow, I type out a reply.

Gabe: I know.

I'm about to tell him I'm outside and ready to talk, even though I'm absolutely not ready to talk now. I might never actually be ready. But the front door to the dorm opens loudly, and the man himself is all but running outside. He looks upset, and he's carrying a large duffle bag. He's holding one of his hands against his chest, and—is that blood?

I'm running up the sidewalk before I think better of it. "What happened?" I reach out to grab his hand, but he flinches away from me. I stagger back like I've been shot.

"Where did you come from?" He mutters, shuffling the strap of his backpack. It looks heavy.

"Here, let me?—"

He steps away. "What are you doing here, Gabe? You just left me… like that…" His voice trails off with his last words, and I have to force myself to look him in the eye.

All the words in my head jumble together. Anything I should say caught in my throat. "I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

"Why did you leave?"

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