- Tuesday, November 7th -

"Did you write her back?" I wave the letter in the air, telling Finnley I'm talking about the letter again. He's currently seated on a pillow in the living room, the coffee table covered with books, notes, pens and a laptop.

As soon as I found him like this, I stopped dead in my tracks and just watched him study for a couple of minutes. Damn, did I miss seeing him like this.

"No, why would I?" He doesn't even look up from the book he's scanning through right now.

"She comes across as an obsessed stalked, Finn."

"She probably is an obsessed stalker." He shrugs carelessly. How can he not care about this at all?

"She has your address," I deadpan, indicating she managed to send him letters, even after he moved out if his parental house.

"No, she has my mom's address." He puts down his pen, turning around to face me. "Charlie used to send me all my mail that still arrived at her place. Including those letters."

"And why am I not allowed to read the rest?"

"They're not important." He turns back to face his homework, breaking contact right when he tells me that, causing me to believe he's lying.

"They're not important." I frown while repeating his words, shuffling towards the couch behind him to lay down because I still get dizzy when I'm standing too long.

"Cris..." He turns around to face me again. Pushing a strain of hair away from my face. "You need a haircut." He chuckles, placing his hand on my cheek. "I promised you I would answer all your questions. But we agreed now's not the time, since you injured your head again."

"You agreed now's not the time." I mumble, staring towards his laptop, noticing he's having a WhatsApp conversation with Oliver on it, instantly causing a tad bit of jealousy. "I didn't agree, because I'm fine. They wouldn't have send me home if I wasn't fine. My parents would have never leave me here if I weren't fine."

Finnley takes in a deep breath, leaning his head on the couch close to my chest. "Okay, but only if you promise to tell me if your head's starting to hurt again. Then you need to go and sleep."

"Promised. Besides, I can't hide it, because it's definitely killing me whenever I have a headache."

"Good, you shouldn't hide it anyway." He turns back to his laptop, telling Oliver he's not able to respond for a while, closing the laptop down after sending the message. "What do you want me to clarify for you?"

"Everything." I chuckle. "Start with the beginning. How did you meet Jeff?"

"Going out with Nathan." Finnley got up from his seat on the floor, gesturing for me to sit up, pulling my head in his lap as soon as he sat down on the couch. "Nathan knew him by name, he bought us some drinks, we just talked. He seemed to be a nice guy. I guess I was too drunk to see through him."

"And when did you start... "buying" drugs?"

"I ran into him when I was out with Stan and James one night. He gave me one for free, I tried it and I had a fun night." Finnley shrugs, playing with my hair, staring down at me, but I don't think he's really looking at me. He seems consumed by his memories.

"Why did you never go out with us? Because you obviously went out a lot."

Finnley snorts, smirking a bit. "I couldn't control myself around you whenever I was intoxicated. Besides, I didn't want anyone to know I was gay and whenever I went with Nathan, or Stan and James, I could do whatever the fuck I want, with whoever the fuck was interested. Nobody would find out, so I thought."

"But Emma saw you."

"Apparently, yes." He takes in a deep breath. "But yeah, that's why I never went out with you guys. I wanted to be free to be myself."

I know he didn't tell me about his sexuality simply because I was completely against it for a long time. Now I know he went with others, to other places, because he wanted to be able to be himself and that makes sense. I already figured that would be a big reason. "What about Sydney, your brother?" I lean my head backwards a bit, enabling me to take his face, and his initial reaction, in.

Finnley shakes his head, his eyes a little wider. I can feel his muscles tense underneath my head for about a second. It's short, but it was there; fear.

"What no? Why didn't you ever tell me about him? Why did I never meet him?"

Finnley swallows. "I thought you were going to ask questions about Emma, Alex, Jeff. Not about him."

"You said you'd explain later."

"Not now."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to!" He shouts out of the blue, completely upset. His loud voice making me cringe a bit. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout." He mumbles, caressing my hair again. "Don't ask me about him."

"But..."

"We're done talking." He pushes me a bit, sliding away and getting up.

"No, Finn, wait." I sit up, grabbing his wrist. "I won't ask about him, okay? I get the message. He's off limits."

Finnley stares down on me with doubt lingering in his eyes.

"Jeff and you, how was your contact before he abducted you?"

Finnley sighs, swallowing a bit, before he sits down beside me again. "He gave me drugs and alcohol, I gave him blowjobs whenever he wanted and that was our deal." Finnley shrugs. "I should've never done that, I know. It's cheap, I acted like a slut. You were right when you called me a cheap..."

"No, I wasn't right. You're not a slut." I sit up, pulling him in my arms, hugging him tightly. "Just tell me one thing... what happened the night we fought and I left you? Did you overdose because I said those things?

"No, the thought of never seeing you again. Because you seemed pretty adamant about never wanting to see me again." He takes in a deep breath while he leans against me. "The thought I lost you because of my own stupidity made me do it. Up until that point, you had been my reason to move on. Every morning I got out of bed, remembered myself of the fact I still had you and for months that was my reason to breath."

"That sounds... horrible. I mean, it's flattering to think you care about me that much. But you should care about yourself that much."

"But I don't." He laughs awkwardly. "I don't care about myself at all, Cris. And the past weeks I've been trying to understand why you forgave me for what I did. Why you wanted me back in your life. Because after you left, after I got home from hospital this summer, I figured it would be best for you to move on."

"That hurts, Finn, to hear you say you don't care about yourself at all." I pull him closer to me, kissing him on top of his head. "Because I care so much about you and I wish you would realise how great you are."

"But, how could I care about myself, after everybody I ever loved, left me. Not even because I did something wrong, but because I'm gay, or because I fucked up after being used, abused. I've been told by so many people I'm not worth anything and I kind of figured, they're right."

"But they're not."

"Well, then you tell me what about me is worth something? Because all I know that I'm good at, is pleasuring people in a sexual way."

I feel like crying while I'm listening to his words, to the way he thinks about himself. "You're so much more than that." I force him to look at me, leaning in to kiss him shortly. "You're smarter than anyone I've ever met. If you put some effort into it you'd be able of big things. I mean, huge things."

"You know, my teachers last year said something similar. Kept bugging me to go back to taking AP classes, telling me I could have a bright future if I worked a little harder."

"Why didn't you?"

"It's really hard to picture a bright future when you're surrounded by darkness."

"Is that how you still feel?"

"By now, there's a little light guiding me through each and every day."

"Am I that light?"

Finnley nods and smiles. "It's easier to live for someone I love with every molecule inside me, than to live in a body that's fighting to survive, while my mind is trying to die. Every morning I'm forcing myself to keep breathing, to keep going. Having a reason to do so, makes it easier, but every breath is a fight."

"I didn't know you felt that way." I whisper, blinking away some tears because I really don't want to cry right now.

"There's only one person that knows my darkest thoughts. That has seen how much darkness surrounds me."

"Oliver."

Finnley nods again. "And I never told him. He just was there every time I was done. He picked me up so many times, taking the pieces that crumbled away, provisionally putting me back together to keep me going."

"And to think I didn't like him."

"He really is great, Cris." Finnley whispers. "And there's been so many times I cursed myself because I was never able to love him the way he hoped I would. Because there was always the thought about what if Cris could love me?"

"Well, I do love you." I smile happily.

"And I still don't understand what's to like about me. But I guess you have your reasons."

"Stop it, really. I'm gonna cry if you keep belittling yourself like that." I turn around a bit, staring straight into his eyes. "You're everything I want. You're funny, sweet, caring. I told you before, I love all the little things about you. I can't even imagine my life without you anymore and I felt lost and lonely in the months we didn't talk. I just needed to get you back in my life."

"Why, Cris? I've hurt you in so many ways..."

"None of those things would've hurt me the way they did, if I didn't care this much about you, Finny. I will always love you, no matter what you do. I can't explain why, because it's too big and complex to explain. It's just there, in every inch of me. I just love you." I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second because there's a faint, annoying headache starting in the back of my head. "I love you now and I'll love you always."

"You're sweet." He whispers, his hands on both sides of my face. "I don't need to know why, I think. I'm just happy you do and ever since you started fighting for me despite however I reacted, I feel a little better about myself."

"Good. Because I'll just keep telling you you're everything to me until you start believing me."

He chuckles, right before his lips touch mine very briefly. "Go to bed, I'll bring your painkillers and some water."

- Wednesday, December 8th -

I couldn't sleep at night, mostly because I slept for hours after my short conversation with Finnley. He was right beside me while I stayed awake, curled up in the covers, facing me with a steady breath, his mouth slightly agape.

It's the cutest I've ever seen him.

I listened to his breathing from the moment he fell asleep, constantly thinking back of the things he told me. How he told me every breath is a fight. I can't imagine how he felt for all those months, how he still feels nearly every day. I can't even imagine wanting to die. I'm scared to die; I don't want to die at all. That would mean my time with Finnley would be over and that's something I don't want to think about. Not even mentioning all the things I still want to do in life.

Yet there he was, beside me, with dark thoughts clouding his judgement, his mind and maybe even his dreams too. It made me wonder what he's thinking off in moments of silence.

The whole conversation we had didn't really settle my worries either. Thinking about it, it only made me worry about him more.

And now I'm not only worried about Emma or Jeff, but Sydney too. Finnley's reaction simply wasn't normal when I asked about Sydney.

He seemed frightened about telling me that story, although he did casually tell me he'd tell me later when I found out about Sydney's existence.

And currently I'm in the car, beside him, driving towards my parents because Finnley's exams are done and I'm not capable of focussing right now. I'll take the three tests I miss this week the next time they're scheduled; in ten weeks.

Which means we'll be staying with my parents until Sunday because Finnley's grandmother is still in hospital and she isn't doing too well. He wants to spend as much time with her as possible, which I completely understand.

But that means we're closer to Emma for about five days. We'll be closer to Finnley's family and the last time he saw them he started crying because he missed them so much. Not the way they act right now, but I know he's longing to live with caring parents again. He wants to be their pride like he always used to.

Then there's the issue that I don't know if Sydney is staying with them and if we'll be closer to him too.

Going home was never an issue, until I started taking Finnley's problems personal. Since I'm more or less involved in them because he is my boyfriend and if he's scared, sad, worried or whatever, I am too.

That's just how much I love him.

"Stop biting your nails." Finnley slaps my hand away from my mouth, grinning like an idiot. "We'll have another 20 minutes before we arrive and I bet you won't have any nails left once we get there, if you continue to bite them like that."

I shrug and smile. "Who cares, I'm not a girl."

"To be honest, I always think it's a bit kinky whenever someone is scratching their nails in my back in the heat of an intimate moment. If you won't have any nails, it won't be as good."

I frown and smirk, watching him with curiosity. "You like kinky stuff?"

"No bondage or whatever." He chuckles. "But I don't mind a bit of roughness. Honestly, that night when I first saw you after a very long time? That heated, but rough kiss we shared? It turned me on to no end."

"Like in the bathrooms at school..."

He smirks again, nodding. "It's the fact we'd been in school that made me leave. But damn, you looked cute that day."

"Good to know I had the same effect on you as you had on me."

"Cris, you always had an effect on me. I always wanted to jump you. I always wanted you to touch me, to hold me, to kiss me."

"Yet you never let me, or anyone for that matter, touch you over three seconds."

"Did you count or what?"

"I did, when I started noticing you started pulling away, shrugging hands off of you, started tensing whenever I touched you longer." I turn my head to watch him again, leaning my head sideways to find some support. My neck is still a bit sore and sitting up like this for a longer period of time makes me remember the fact I'm still recovering. "Why did you? You obviously don't have a problem with me touching you now."

"Because I know you won't hurt me. Because I know you'll stop when I'm getting uncomfortable, or when it..." His voice falters, his face flushes. Instead of casting glances in my direction every so often, he's staring straight forward towards the road, holding on to the wheel a little tighter; his knuckles turning white.

"Or when it?"

"Hurts." He mumbles, the car slowing down and before I realise he was stopping, he already took an exit to a gas station, stopping on the small parking lot behind the main building. His eyes are watery, he fiddles with his fingers, staring down in shame and sadness at once.

I swallow back about a dozen questions, unbuckling my seatbelt to move a bit so I can take his hands in mine, pressing a kiss on his head. "If you don't want to talk, you don't have to talk."

"I want you to know..." His voice is thick with emotions, his eyes red by the tears that threaten to fall down. "I eh..." He shuffles in his seat awkward. "Do you mind if I smoke? It calms me down and I'm starting to become a bit restless because I hate going back to the town I hate so much because the people judge us and my parents are there to condemn me and remind me I failed to make them proud..."

"Finn..."

"...and Charlie hating me because I always refused to tell him what happened and why mom and dad pretended to not have a third son..."

"Finny!" I squeeze his hands. "Calm down. Smoke a cigarette... I didn't know you'd really smoke but what do I care? Just... calm yourself down."

"I don't really smoke, just when I'm nervous and anxious and restless like right now because I want to tell you but I don't want you to think less of me and think I'm weak or whatever..."

"Where are the cigarettes?" I chuckle a bit because he keeps drawling all these incoherent things to explain stuff. I've never seen him like this before he got abducted. He was always the calm and collective one. "Let's calm down and you can tell me when you're ready, okay?"

"So, not now? You don't mind waiting because I think you need to get home to rest because you're a bit pale and wait... I shouldn't smoke because you might be nauseous already. Are you nauseous? Do you want to lie down for the rest of the ride?"

"Sssh." I hold my finger against his mouth to shush him. "I'm fine, tired, I need to lay down soon, yes. We'll talk later, okay? Just calm down and take us to my parents."

"Okay." He nods, leaning towards my side of the care, grabbing a pack of cigarettes out of the dashboard. "I'll smoke outside and then we'll drive on."

"Fine by me." I nod and smile. "But I won't kiss you until you've brushed your teeth."

"Don't be a baby, you kissed me before after I smoked a cigarette and you never noticed."

"I don't even want to know." I hold up my hands.

"Thanks, Cris." He chuckles. "You don't know how happy I am with you as my boyfriend. Thanks for understanding."