He told himself not to ask for more next time. Next time he'd let Zach leave without saying anything. He'd smile and wave and pretend it didn't hurt, and Zach would look at him differently. Would want to stay.
Next time.
∞∞∞
Present
Adriel hadn't slept.
He'd watched the night fade from dark to grey to the pale yellow of early morning without closing his eyes once. Lain in the same position for hours, curled on his side, blanket pulled up to his chin, staring at the wall. At the crack in the plaster he'd never noticed before. At the way the light changed as the hours passed.
His body still remembered.
The press of Landen's mouth on his throat. The sound he'd made, that low groan against his skin. The words.
So pretty.
He could still feel them, like they'd been branded into him. Could still feel the shelf at his back, the warmth of Landen's body pinning him in place, the way his hands had gripped and held andwanted.
He pressed his face into the pillow and made a sound he didn't recognize.
It was almost eight when he reached for his phone. His hand shook as he navigated to the right screen and typed the message to Miriam he'd been turning over in his mind for hours.
Not feeling well. Taking a sick day.
He stared at it. Read it three times. Hit send before he could change his mind.
Then he put the phone face-down on the mattress and pressed his palm flat against his chest, as if he could slow his heart by force.
He didn't have to wait long.
The call came at 9:47. He watched the name appear on the screen, sharp and clear against the white background.
Landen.
His heart stopped. Then started again, too fast, too hard, pounding against his ribs like it wanted out.
The phone kept buzzing. Vibrating in his hand, warm against his palm.
He didn't answer. He watched the call go to voicemail. Watched the screen go dark. Held his breath until it was over.
Thirty seconds later, it buzzed again.
He felt something crack open in his chest. The panic rising, slow at first and then faster, a tide he couldn't stop.
Pretty.Landen had called him pretty. With his mouth on his skin. With his hands in his hair. With his body pressed against him in the low light of the archive.
Pretty.
The word lodged somewhere deep, wrong and familiar. Zach had called him pretty too. The first time, early on, sitting on that couch.You're pretty.And Adriel had believed him. Had let himself believe it, let it warm him from the inside, let it mean something. Right up until the moment Zach had shown him exactly what that word was worth. Whathewas worth.
Pretty was a lie. Pretty was something men said when they wanted something. Pretty was the hook, and once you bit, once you believed, they showed you the truth, that you were clingy, needy, too much. That you weren't pretty at all. That you were just convenient until you weren't.
The phone buzzed again.
He pressed the button to silence it. His heart still too fast, his breath too shallow, his skin too hot.
The knock came at his door just after ten.
