Page 236 of There's No Us Without You
With my thumb and forefinger pressed into my eye sockets, I sink further into the couch and bring the beer bottle in my other hand to my lips.
I’m not even sure I should be drinking right now, but what else is there to do when your life is exploding around you? If I’m going down, may as well go down numb and clueless.
The sound of glass shattering makes me jump, spilling my half-full beer into my lap.
Fuck it.
I brush the excess liquid from my pants and wring out my hands. A loud thumping sound—like someone is stomping around—makes the floorboards creak through the carpet above me, so I place the bottle on the coffee table, not worrying about the beer all over me, and grab my crutches to hobble up the stairs and check on Will.
When I finally reach his door, I knock twice and listen to whatever is going on in there.
“Fuck off,” Will says, his words muffled by the door.
But I don’t miss the fact his voice is raw and strained.
“Will, please,” I say, pressing myself against the door. “Talk to me.”
Moments later, it swings inwards and I almost faceplant onto the carpet in his room.
The door is slammed shut behind me and I’m met with a hulking Will as he resumes pacing his room and pulling at his hair. He grabs the next item—lamp number two—and throws it against the wall. It smashes into little pieces of white ceramic, the dark-grey shade bent out of shape as it falls to the floor.
“Slow down,” I say, reaching for him. “I’m here.”
Will’s bloodshot eyes meet mine, and he sniffs. “What do you want to talk about, Emerson?” Throwing his hands up, he stalks towards me like a lion hunting its prey. “Huh? Should we start with the fact my brother is dead? No, wait. I have a good one.”Holding a finger up, he shakes his head. “How about the fact my mother left both me and Tyler with a drunk piece of shit for a father who couldn’t keep a job, and every time he got wasted, he’d take his fists to me. Should I keep going? Do you want to hear the rest of my sob story and why I’m so fucked up? There are things you don’t even know about me, Emerson, and I’m sure if I told you, you’d never look at me the same.” His chest is heaving, his breathing ragged by the time he finishes speaking.
My entire body shakes, and I blink back the tears threatening to spill over my lower lids. My chest is practically cracking open at the sight of Will so broken.
My broken man.
“I don’t care about anything else but you,” I say, taking a small step towards him. “You’re all that matters right now.”
Will squeezes his lips into a thin line, his dark-blue eyes scanning my face as though he’s searching for something. “I can’t...” he says, then he backs up against the wall behind him, his upper body slumping forward. Head down, he sinks to the ground and pulls his knees to his chest, burying his face in his hands.
While making my way over to him, I take a moment to glance around his room. Glass and ceramic shards sit in piles on his floor, and the wooden chair that usually sits in the corner of his room is upside down with two legs snapped off.
Jesus.
Using the crutch under my left arm, I lower myself down, careful to keep my injured leg out in front of me. When I reach for Will, he shrugs my hand off his shoulder.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice muffled by his hands.
“Will, please look at me.”
If I could take all his pain away, I would. I’d take it all on myself, even if it killed me, because seeing him like this is torture.
Sighing, he finally drops his hands from his face but doesn’t look at me, so I shuffle on my arse so I’m sitting in front of him and cup his face in my hands. “It’s me, Will. Just me.”
When he finally looks up, those sad eyes searching mine, I almost crack. Whatever it is he was looking for, he must find it because he yanks me by the back of my neck and crushes his lips to mine, his hands roaming down my chest to fist my shirt.
His kiss is rough and demanding, our teeth clashing as our hands strip shirts off one another. When my chest is bared to him, Will kneels between my spread legs and buries his face against it, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin around my nipples.
I arch my back to get closer, wanting to feel all of him against my chest.
“I need you,” he says, gripping the waist of my jeans, and tugging at the button.
“Will, I don’t thi?—”
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says against my bare skin. “I just need to feel you against me, or I swear I’m going to fucking disappear.”
