Page 49 of Bound By Obsession

“I don’t do romance or flowers. I’m an asshole that pushes people away so I can never be hurt again. I don’t like to count on others and I’ll probably fuck this up too. Really soon. But you make me want to be better, Axel.”

He’s definitely dying. I sit upright and face him properly. That look of pain is still there, as if none of this is actually what he wants. As far as I knew, he was rather content being the asshole.

“Gare, you don’t need to do this if it’s just for my benefit.”

“Is that what you think?” Garrett’s eyes darken, his voice low, almost a growl. He runs a hand through his messy brown hair, visibly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know how to explain...ugh I knew I’d fuck this up. I’m trying to figure itout because—” He pauses, swallowing hard as if the truth might choke him. “Because you make me want to try. And that scares the hell out of me.”

The soft creaking of the porch swing fills the silence that follows, the night air cool against my skin. I let his words sink in, unsure how to respond at first. Garrett, always the impenetrable, sarcastic wall, is now crumbling just enough to let me glimpse the vulnerability underneath. He’s trying, and that alone shakes me more than I thought it would.

“I know you’re not perfect,” I finally say, my voice gentler than I’d intended. “It’s actually what I love about you.”

Garrett exhales sharply, my words taking him by surprise. His eyes drift away from mine, focusing on the darkened horizon where the ocean whispers quietly to the stars. The tension between us is palpable, thick with unsaid things, but it’s different now. Less suffocating and more honest.

“You deserve better,” he mutters, almost too quietly to hear. “You know you do. That’s why this is so hard, Axel. Because you damn well stay anyway.”

My heart clenches. Like me, Garrett has always seen himself as broken, someone who could never be enough. If only he’d let a trickle of my affection in and then he might realize he’s worth so much more than he wants to believe. I reach out, taking his hand in mine in a solid grip. He flinches, but doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t want someone better, Garrett. I want you. I always have.”

The raw truth hangs between us, heavier than the stars overhead. His hand tightens around mine, the pressure reassuring. It’s not easy for either of us. I’ve got my own demons, and Garrett’s past is filled with a much different kind. Just like the home his parents neglected him in, he’s built a structure around his heart and shut himself inside. But right now, for the first time, it feels like we’re finally on the same page.

Garrett lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You say that now, but—”

“No,” I cut him off firmly, leaning in closer. My breath skates over his clenched jaw. “I say it because it’s true. You think I haven’t seen all the messed-up parts of you by now? I know who you are, Gare. And I still choose you. Every damn time.”

He looks at me then, really looks at me, his dark eyes searching mine for something. Maybe he’s hunting for lies or doubt, but he won’t find any. I hold his gaze, willing him to believe me. The silence between us stretches on, and I can almost hear the gears turning in his head, the battle he’s fighting within himself. Then, finally, he releases a long, shaky breath.

“You make it sound so simple.”

I smile, just a little, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe it is simple. We’re the ones making it complicated.”

Garrett lets out a soft laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Simple,” he echoes, the word rolling off his tongue like it’s foreign. Closing his eyes for a moment, he steels himself whilst the porch swing rocks us gently. When he opens them again, his expression has softened, the storm in his eyes calming just a little bit.

He reaches for me, sliding his arms around my shoulders and closing the last few inches between us. Pushing my lips against his, the entire world falls away. Our lips meet in a slow, burning glide, soft yet insistent. His breath was warm against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine as a connection instantly sparks between us with all of the words we can’t say.

The gentle pressure of his mouth deepens, his tongue poking out to lick my bottom lip. It’s an invitation I’ve had many times, but my heart hasn’t been so close to bursting out of my chest before. Opening up, Garrett ravages my mouth, his tongue quickly dominating mine and tasting every feeble movement I try in retaliation. He kisses me until I’m rigid beneath his hold,a slave to his desire. I’d give Garrett anything he wanted right then. He has the ability to cause my pulse to race as soon as his hand strokes my head, grounding me in the moment. Our chests are heaving, mirroring a steady rise and fall one after another.

A breathy laugh fans over my face as Garrett leans his forehead against mine. We huddle under the blanket for the rest of the night, our limbs tangled as we force the night’s cool air to stay out.

“You know I’m going to screw this up, right?” he murmurs, his lips brushing the top of my head.

I smile against him, the warmth of his body grounding me in a way nothing else ever could. “Probably,” I reply, teasing lightly. “But we’ll figure it out.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, the tension between us dissipating into the night. The candles flicker gently, casting soft shadows around us, and for the first time all evening, I feel a sense of peace wash over me.

Eventually, Garrett breaks the silence. “Axel,” he says, his voice soft and tentative. I lift my head to look at him, and the vulnerability in his eyes almost undoes me. Garrett, the man who hides behind jokes and sarcasm, who’s spent his life pushing people away so he doesn’t get hurt. But here, with me, he’s trying to face his demons head-on. “With whatever remains of my splintered soul, I love you.”

“I know,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his jawline. It’s a quick evasion tactic to hide the welling of tears behind my eyes. Like I said, Garrett isn’t perfect and neither am I. But in this moment, under the starlit sky, it feels like maybe we don’t have to be. We can finally have validation. We can finally feel like we’re enough.

Lying on my stomach across my bed, my legs swing to and fro as I mindlessly scroll through my phone’s old photos. I rarely take pictures, given that most days at the manor were a carbon copy of each other, but it’s a habit I plan on breaking.

At least Meg had no such qualms. She often took my phone hostage, snapping photos from our perfect summer breaks and endless weekend sleepovers. It’s a wonder we didn’t get bored, but there was always a new series to binge, reading marathons to do, picnics to have on the grounds. In our later years, Meg started to introduce me to her friends and that’s when the mischief started.

I smile at one of those photos now, our huge smiles beaming out from a crowd of basic strangers. Everyone is in their swimwear, dripping wet from a mass body jump in the pool. Itwas just an excuse really to slip and slide against each other, hands roaming and crotches brushing. A cesspit of horny, tipsy teenagers who were manhandled out by security. I don’t even know who snapped this exact photo before the party was hastily shut down, but the next weekend, we were all back at it again.

Another image is from the stargazing event Meg and I put on, which was basically a hundred beanbags spread across the lawn and enough weed for everyone to convince themselves they saw a UFO. Meg lazily looks towards the screen, red eyed with a joint hanging loose between her fingers. I’m in the forefront, sober as sin with a goofy smile and a thumbs up.

I’ve stared at these photos so many times, I’ve memorized each detail. But I’m going back with fresh eyes. I’m hunting. The letter I found on the SUV is burning a hole through the bedside table drawer. The letter that revealed something new - I’ve met him. I know him. He described the first time he saw me, which is why I’m now scouring through any evidence I have, searching for a familiar face in the crowds.

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