After missing dinner with Bradley's parents and siblings a couple of hours ago, I leave him an apology text about a family emergency. That's what Whittney is and always has been: family. Both of us have been each other's support system throughout all of high school and I can't abandon him when he needs me the most.

I end up researching online about how I can help him get through the withdrawal as painlessly as possible. Turns out it's easier said than done because I don't get a moment's rest. Whittney barely sleeps, constantly tossing and turning.

There's a mattress I set up for myself next to the couch, but I have yet to lay down on it. I am sitting at Whittney's side, rubbing his back as he vomits into the trash can again. It wasn't much since I only gave him some crackers and a banana, like suggested online, but it's worrying me that he can't keep that down. He's still drenched in a cold sweat and groaning while clenching his stomach. When I hold up bottled water to his lips, he pulls away and shakes his head.

"Whitney, please. You have to drink something," I plead with him.

His watery eyes look to me and with a sigh, he takes a sip. With shaky fingers, he grabs the bottle on his own and takes a few more before handing it back to me. I help him lay back down and he whimpers.

"It hurts. Fuck, it hurts." He clenches his eyes shut, his breathing stunted.

Grabbing his hand in mine, I give it a light squeeze. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere."

I pull ibuprofen from my pocket and lift his head just slightly so he can get it down with another sip of water. An hour later, he's finally asleep and although I'm exhausted, I can't seem to shut my eyes.

The rest of the weekend consists of cleaning sheets, keeping Whittney hydrated, and getting yelled at. I hadn't realized how dependent he had become on drugs until he started lashing out when I refused to go out and score heroin for him. He was angry, but I understood. He was going through Hell. He still is.

I'm holding him close on the mattress on the floor. With his back turned to me, I have my arms wrapped tightly around him. It's Sunday night and he's no longer experiencing the harsh symptoms like vomiting and stomach pain, but he's barely moved in the past hour. In fact, he hasn't said a word. I lean over him to see that his eyes are closed, but I know he isn't asleep.

"How are you feeling?" When I don't get a response, I gently move him onto his back and force him to look at me. "Hey, talk to me."

Whittney's eyes seem almost vacant. "I can't stop thinking about it, Hare."

"Thinking about what?"

He cups my face with his hand and my body jolts with electricity. That magnetic feeling is back again as I hold his gaze. My eyes travel to his lips when he licks them, almost nervously.

"When we almost kissed," Whittney whispers, his hand now on the small of my back, pulling me close against his chest.

The rapid thumping of my heart in my head is almost as distracting as the distance between us slowly diminishing. At the last second, I grab his hand, pulling it from my face. "I can't." I sigh. "I'm with Bradley."

Whittney's face twists into a pained expression as he glances at his hand in mine. When he looks back at me, his eyes pierce me to my very core. "Do you love him?"

A lump forms in my throat and the dryness in my mouth makes it hard to swallow. His penetrating gaze isn't helping, it's just another thing distracting my brain from forming any words. He places my hand on his chest and it's enough to take my breath away. I don't realize how close we are until I feel his breath on my face.

The slightest smile spreads on his lips as his hand snakes to the back of my neck.

"Please." Whittney finally breaks the deafening silence with a spine-tingling whisper. His forehead presses against mine and I close my eyes. "You're the reason I want to stop using, Hare. No, you're more than that. You're the only thing keeping me from fucking losing my mind. Please?" He pauses, cupping my face with both hands. Our eyes meet and his look is haunted by words still unspoken. "Fuck . . . I need you."

My whole body goes rigid in his arms as I search his eyes for a shroud of doubt. That he isn't bullshitting me. The deeper I dig, the more I realize he meant every single word.

Every fiber is screaming at me that I'm making a mistake, but I don't care. After everything that we've been through, it's been those three words, those eight letters, that often misused expression that I've wanted to hear from him all this time. Thinking of a life without him in it makes it hard to breathe. And that's when I know.

Like magic, I'm unfrozen, and the magnetic pull finally has its way when our lips collide. When my fingers tangle into Whittney's hair, his hands travel under my shirt, squeezing and touching every inch of my skin as he kisses me hungrily.

My blood is boiling under his fingers as I'm pulled closer and into his lap, straddling him. His mouth moves down to my neck and starts sucking on my sweet spot, turning me to jelly. I'm tugging at his shirt when I hear a small gasp.

"Oh my god." A feminine voice chimes behind me and my whole body goes rigid. When I've turned to look, her gaze keeps shifting between Whittney and me. Then, she turns and starts running up the stairs.

"Amber, wait!" I roll off the bed in one swift move. The last thing I wanted was to leave Whittney's side, but that's exactly what I do when I chase her up the stairs. I catch up to her, grabbing her arm before she can leave. "Please?"

She turns to face me and crosses her arms. "What the hell are you doing?" Her voice is hushed as she glares at me and I can't find the words. "What are you doing, Harry? I thought you and Bradley..."

I sigh hopelessly. "I know. I know. I feel awful about it, okay? But Whittney, he's in trouble."

There's an obvious conflict in her eyes and I don't blame her. "And that gives you the right to cheat on your boyfriend?"

"It was a mistake." That's an understatement. I never thought I'd stoop so low as to do something like this, but I can't think around Whittney. Just being around him makes me lose all self-control.

"Dammit, Harry. You've barely been officially dating for a few days." Amber sighs, her lips turning down in disappointment. "Bradley sent me over here to check on you, by the way. He was worried about you."

No words seem to form in my mouth as she walks in the direction of the front door. It's impressively clear.

I messed up.

When I go back downstairs, the bed is empty, the sliding door is open, and Whittney is gone. I'm about to have a mini heart attack before I spot him leaving through my backyard. There's no way I'm letting him leave now, not when we aren't yet completely out of the woods with the withdrawal. Plus, it's raining with dark clouds looming in the skies.

I run after him despite the slight drizzle, yelling his name when he's about to attempt climbing over the fence. Once I've caught up to him, I grab his arm to stop him. Since his strength isn't what it usually is, it's easy pulling him away.

"What are you doing?" I frown when he turns to face me.

He sighs. "I heard what you said to Amber. I'm a mistake, right? So maybe I should just go."

I grab his hand when he turns again. "Don't."

Whittney doesn't even glance my way. "Go back to your boyfriend, Harry."

The grip I have on his hand tightens, becoming difficult as the rain starts coating our fingers. "Don't do this. You just told me you need me. And guess what, dumbass? I need you, too. So please . . . stay."

Finally, his eyes find mine, but they are only filled with a sad realization. "I'm no good for you, Hare. But Bradley is. He's a good guy who can give you everything you want."

I shake my head and cup his face in my hands as he avoids my gaze. "I want you."

He grabs my wrists but doesn't let go when he gently pushes me away. "You shouldn't. I've been selfish and stupid, and you were hurt because of it. I was so jealous that I put my feelings above yours. Above everyone's. I don't deserve to be with someone like you. You're good, Harry. Like, genuinely good. And I'm toxic. I'm toxic for you."

"And I don't care." There's not a second of hesitation. "I know you. Better than anyone. It's because you hate yourself, isn't it? You hate yourself so much that you do shitty things so that everyone else will hate you, too." I reach up to cup his face in my hands again, keeping his focus on me. There's no way I'm going to let him walk away again. "But I'm not falling for it. Do you hear me? I won't sit back and watch you destroy yourself. I love you, and I won't stop telling you that until you love yourself."

Tears spring from his eyes and then he wraps his arms around me. I hug back, holding him tightly while he cries into my shoulder. Thunder roars in the background, ignoring my goosebumps as the cold rain starts coming down harder, soaking my t-shirt.

"Th-there are things you don't know." A sob bursts right next to my ear. Whittney's voice shakes with fear. "About me. You won't love me when you find out how disgusting I am."

I pull away, but I keep a firm hold on his arms. My brows furrow and concern spills from my voice. "What are you talking about?"

Whittney shoves me hard this time, making me stumble back on the slickness of the grass. He falls to his knees in the pouring rain. Dirty water splashes when his fists hit the muddy ground. "I'm a fucking disgusting faggot! Don't you get it?"

Rain mixes with the tears on his face as he looks at me. My heart feels like it's being filled with cement - heavy and cold. With blurring eyes, I reach out for him, but he slaps my hand away.

"Stop it," I plead with him. "Talk to me!"

A throat-tearing cry expels from his mouth as he squeezes his eyes shut. He clenches his fists into clumps of grass, watery mud slipping through his fingers. The sight is enough to make my heart break for him, as it's done so many times before. "I can't," he cries. Strands of wet hair fall in his face as he shakes his head. "I can't."

"Please, Whitt. Let me help you!" Every muscle in my body is fighting my brain to hold him, but he'll just reject any advancement.

Red eyes filled with anger and contempt find mine and I can't breathe. There's so much hurt in them, and there's nothing I can do about it. There never has been.

"I slept with him." His face twists in pain when he shuts his eyes.

My breath is caught on the lump in my throat as I wait for him to clarify, but he doesn't. "Slept with who?"

A sob breaks through his lips, his head hanging in defeat. "The guy who raped me."

Any and all sounds fade around me as the words sink in. Rape? He's never mentioned it before, but now that he has, how did I not know? How did I not see the signs that, so obviously, stared me in the face? And the most chilling question: Why would Whittney sleep with someone that raped him?

Slowly, the downpour of rain is all I hear, louder even than my own thoughts. I find myself on my knees barely a foot away, yet I can't find the strength to hold him. All this time, I thought I needed to protect him, but now I realize he was protecting me.

Protecting me from the truth of knowing.

***

Dang, what a chapter. I really hope you guys liked it. What did you all think about Whittney's love confession? Is he deserving of a second chance or do you think that he's right that Harry should go back to Bradley?  And what did you think about what Whittney revealed in the end?

After a long wait and lots of writer's block, I finally was able to get some words jotted down on the proverbial paper! As always, thank you so much for all the patience, and I hope to see some comments about what you thought! Maybe even hitting that like button if you think the chapter deserved it. Hoping to be writing a bit more frequently with the quarantine that'll still be going on for a bit!

Til next time,

TheWriterD