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“Don’t touch me! I don’t want to—” He grabs my wrists violently and continues to debate with his demons.
I keep repeating that it’s me, that he has nothing to fear, but he doesn’t hear me nor believe me and squeezes me harder. I understand at this moment that Aaron’s past contains more than his brother’s death. It’s a succession of tragic events, leaving him haunted. Broken. I feel his pain. I feel his fear. It’s nothing like I could have imagined it, nothing a normal human should be able to support. His need for control, his need to forget, his need to not get close to anyone—I understand.
I release my wrist by turning it into the exterior, before cupping his face with my palms, imploring him to wake up, I want to end his torment, but at the approach of my contact, he pushes me violently out of the bed. I fall down on the carpet. I’m lost. Confused. Heartbroken.
He gasps for air and jerks up out of the bed. He looks around him, his eyes full of fear. He is breathing heavily, as if he doesn’t know where he is. His face is flushed, and his pupils are dilated. He panics, throwing his hands around his hair, searching for something. Probably for me. I hear him cursing fuck, his body still shaking, as he blinks forcefully looking at the floor to try to calm himself.Oh, Aaron, what happened to you…
I’m out of breath, unable to speak. I try to stand up, but I’m shaking after what I’ve witnessed and immediately fall back on my buttocks. His gaze finds mine, and his expression changes radically. He notices my tears, looks at the bed, and back at me in a petrified way. He takes a few steps back, hitting the wall behind him. He swallows harshly, his mouth shaking. His eyes are wet, and he curves his lips into an expression of disgust. I hide the marks he left by squeezing my wrist too hard with my other hand. But it’s too late. He has seen it. He shakes his head saying no, walking backward along the length of the wall, keeping his distance from me. He thinks he hurt me. It’s destroying him.
“Elle.”
Ashamed. Lost. Vulnerable.
He isn’t my downfall. I’m his.
Hell-Bound
“I—I’m sorry, I—”
He can’t find his words. He mumbles, repeating the wordsorrylike a mantra. He stares at me, lost and confused. The Aaron I know—so confident, cocky, powerful—is gone and replaced by a side of him I’ve never uncovered before. Regrets. Pain. Blame. His broken part emerged for the first time in the most violent way.
He passes his hands through his hair. It’s as if I can hear from here the palpitations of his heart. He has sweat drowning the length of his Apollo body. His remorse is taming him, enslaving him to his pain. I know he is sorry, it’s not his fault if he is haunted by something stronger than him. I’ve felt ashamed for so long from the way Stephan treated me, but Aaron made me see the light.
I want to be his light in the darkness of our pasts colliding.
I stand up from the floor, my legs still shaking. I swallow, feeling that each second of my silence is a second closer to losing the man who changed my whole self. The man who helped me gain confidence and overcome my fears is now the one in need. I need to remain strong. I take a step closer to him, whispering his name, but he takes a step backward, shaking his head. I’m losing him. I remain still, hoping I’ll be enough.
“I’m fine, Aaron.” I’m not afraid of him, nor of his past. We knew we were broken, and it was just a matter of time before our demons manifested. My soul is in pain. I’m crashing with him. I take a step toward him again. I won’t let him go.
“Don’t come near me, Elle.” He swallows harshly, his nostrils flare, his pupils darkening of hatred. The inside of his eyes is the color of Hell, his lips still curved in repugnance.
“Aaron. You didn’t hurt me.” Abhorrence, horror, atrocity, are consuming the broken soul of the man who was my savior. He doesn’t belong here. He is worth so much more than what he inflicts on himself.
“I did this. Don’t you see it, Elle? I fucking hurt you! I’m a freaking monster! I’m just like—” he roars, his eyes spreading flames of rage, as he turns his back on me, banging his elbows violently on the wall, his head down.
He curses and searches for his clothes, dressing quickly. He wants to escape me. Escape us. I won’t let his demons win. I rush toward the door, blocking his way. I don’t want him to leave like this. I probably should give him the time he needs, the space he requires, but I know Aaron. All or nothing. I need to tell him before he blames himself, before he creates a devastating tornado transforming the both of us into ashes.
“I want to be there for you. You don’t have to talk to me, but let me be here,” I implore him.
“You heard.” He turns to face me, staring at me like I’m a ghost, his tone is dry, menacing, authoritative. He is terrified about me knowing something about him. Something that happened to him.
“No, Aaron. I couldn’t understand and—”
“Elle. Get. Out. Of my way.” He stands in front of me, looking down, his powerful demons trying to dominate me.
I take a step toward him, my hands caressing his chest. But it’s not the same. He doesn’t react. My touch doesn’t awaken him anymore. It’s… hurting him? Tearing him apart? I reach for his cheek, for our eyes to connect to feel the proximity, to give myself to him, to let him use me. I want to make him forget, but he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand away.
I yell at the contact, the pain and mark his nightmare caused still tender. He takes my hand softly on his, and his expression becomes paralyzed when he peers over the mark he created. His fingers caress my skin around the mark as I see him falling apart slowly and fully. I call out to him, but he doesn’t answer nor react.
A mark will heal, but I know he’ll never forgive himself. He squeezed me under the fear of his nightmare. He squeezed me because he needed someone. And, in the end, he inked his nightmare into my skin. He shared his pain with me, and that, he can’t handle. He always tries to protect me, and tonight he was the one destroying me. The step he took tonight for me is the reinsurance that he doesn’t belong with me. He closes his eyelids, and I notice a subtle tear sliding down his face. He swallows hard, his eyebrows and eyelids trembling.
“Aaron…” Tears are spreading, bleeding across my face.
“I don’t need you, Elle. Stop trying to save me. You’re desperate!” he shouts, taking me by surprise with his violent tone.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I fucked you. Now, I just want to go home. You were a mistake.” Pupils dilated, he stares wide-eyed at me. He is gone, drowning with his nightmares, selling his soul to the darkness. His cruel words sink into my heart and blacken my soul. They are meant to push me away, to make me give up on him.
