Page 36 of Wishes for August

“You did what?” I asked as a fragment of my stupid heart splintered off at the realisation that he could have been with someone else. God, I was such a fucking fool.

“Fuck!” I yelled, grabbing an abandoned glass from the side table and throwing it against the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces much the same way my heart had.

“You want this to be over between us, August? Is that what this is?” I swallowed around the emotion lodged in my throat as I steeled my expression and faced him head on, my eyes burning with held back tears. “You want to break this thing between us so you can go fuck someone else? That’s what you’d rather do then just fucking talk to me? Do I mean so little to you? Does everything that’s happened between us mean so little to you?”

He didn’t answer me, instead he looked down at his hands which were clasped together in front of him.

“August!” I yelled at his silence. If he was ending our agreement, the least he could do was tell me directly. But my heart splintered even more at that thought. It shattered to the ground and stood in ruins at my feet. Suddenly all of the fight left me.

My shoulders sagged and I dipped my head, "Please don't do this," I begged.

"Do what?" August finally snapped back, his fierce gaze clashing with mine. He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Push me away. Block me out. Please August, use your fucking words and tell me what’s going on." My voice was quiet, like it wasn’t even mine. It belonged to a stranger, a sad, heartbroken stranger.

“What’s going on is that I came here to fuck that tight little ass of yours,” his words were crass and cold and not like the passionate way in which he usually spoke to me, “But you’re acting like…” His words trailed off and he shook his head, his eyes glossy, his jaw still clenched tightly.

“You’re not my boyfriend Caleb.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that perfectly clear,” I muttered quietly, defeat in my voice.

“Leave if you want August. If that’s what you really want, then just go. I wasn’t asking you to marry me, I just wanted to talk, to understand why you were so upset. But fine, leave.” I turned my back to him, a gaping hole where my heart once stood. My entire soul ached.

I expected to hear the sound of the front door as he retreated from me again, instead, I heard a light thud and small muffled sobs coming from behind me. I turned to find August slumped against the wall, his head resting on his drawn up knees, his hands tightly tucked in his hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he yelled, his voice muffled by his knees as his grip on his hair tightened even more, to the point where his knuckles were white.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to steady myself before I walked over to him and tentatively reached my hand out to touch his shoulder. He flinched when he felt my hand on him, causing him to look up at me abruptly. His eyes were wide and startled, and tears streamed down his cheeks as he chewed punishingly on his bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry Caleb. So, so sorry,” he cried quietly. “I didn’t mean it, any of it. Please don’t make me leave,” he whispered in a raspy voice.

“I don't want anyone else. I wasn't with anyone else. I promise. I'm just fucked up, things are so messy. But not you, you're theone good thing in my life. Please….” his words trailed off as he sank his face back into the comfort of his knees.

I watched this beautiful, broken boy sobbing in front of me and while I knew he had the potential to destroy me, I couldn’t push him away. I was sure he would never intentionally hurt me, in the same way I was sure I was falling in love with him.

I sat down next to August and pulled him into my side, my arm securely wrapped around him. His head fell against my shoulder and I felt the hot droplets of his tears seep into my tee. I kissed the top of his head and breathed in the scent of his shampoo.

“I’ve got you August, I’ve got you.”

Once August had calmed down, I dragged him to the sofa where I pulled him down on top of me so that his legs were straddling my hips, and his arms snaked around me and his head hiding in the space between my neck and shoulder.

“I’ve got you sweetheart,” I told him again, repeating what I had said only moments ago. I needed him to believe it, believe that he was safe with me. That I had no intention of ever hurting him and if he’d let me, no intention of ever leaving him.

Gently, I gripped his chin in my hand and brought his head up so that he was facing me.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” I asked. I wasn’t going to push him but I really hoped that he would tell me what was going on.

His body still shook with sobs and he sniffed a few times before he was able to speak. He rested his head on my shoulder, his lips almost touching my neck and threaded one hand in my hair, absentmindedly twisting his fingers through the strands. I lifted the back of his t-shirt and slowly danced my fingers up and down his spine.

Quietly, August told me everything that had happened: from his dad showing up, to his near panic attack, to the stranger at the bar trying to pick him up. I bristled when he told me about the man who wanted to take him home. The thought that someone wanted what had so quickly become mine made me boil with anger. I shook away the thought though because he wasn’t mine. Not really.

“What do you want to do about your brother?” I asked, still caressing him, my fingers tracing the line of his waistband and then up to the back of his neck.

“I think I want to meet him but I’m not sure. He never asked for any of this, the same way I didn’t.” He kissed my neck then, a soft simple kiss that spoke volumes. It was tender and loving, with no motives or intent to take things further.

“You don’t have to decide tonight. There’s no rush so take your time.”

“I am afraid though,” he whispered, and I held him tighter against me.

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