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“You can have it back, though.” Carter frowns. “It doesn’t smell like you anymore.”
A flutter forms in Travis’s stomach. He feels like a fucking teenager. “I could wear it for a bit and give it back.”
“Or you could just not leave again so I don’t need it.”
“Yeah,” Travis says, even though that’s not something he should promise. His voice cracks a little at the end of the word. “That’d work too.”
“Come on.” Carter finishes wiping himself off, then tosses the towel off to the side. He walks past Travis before looking at him over his shoulder. “Time to sleep.”
“I might borrow the sweatshirt for my walk back to the room.”
Carter frowns. “In the morning?”
“No, right now.”
“W-why would you go right now?” Carter asks, his voice wavering. It damn near kills Travis.
You kept him, didn’t you?
“Is it because we slept together? Before you left?” Carter leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms like he’s holding himself. “We never got the chance to talk about it…”
“What’d you think about it?” Travis asks, unable to turn down the chance to find this out. “Were you okay?”
“It was great.” Carter shrugs. “I wasn’t a fan of waking up alone, but Maison said that was mostly his fault.”
“He didn’t want me to bother you.”
“You should’ve told him to fuck off. He’s not your boss anymore. And he doesn’t get to make decisions for me.”
Travis nods, understanding completely. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Can we just sleep? Please?" Carter offers him a pleading smile. "Our lives are a mess and we have a lot to talk about, but not tonight, okay? Tonight, can we just… be together?"
"One last time?" Travis asks, hating the words more than ever because this time it's going to be true. It has to be true. He can't keep this boy. He won't.
"Yeah," Carter whispers, his voice sadder than ever before. Maybe he senses what Travis is thinking. Maybe he knows this time is really the last. "One last time."
Travis is already awake when Carter's eyes flutter open. He almost smiles, his body warm and rested, relief buzzing through him that Travis is finally back. Then he registers Travis's bleak expression and remembers the state he was in last night, and the thought of smiling makes him a little sick.
"Good morning," he manages to whisper. He's relieved when his voice doesn't shake or crack. "How'd you sleep?"
"Alright." It's a lie, but Carter doesn't call him out for it. Travis starts to reach for his face, maybe to brush hair off his forehead or to cup his cheek like he often used to, but he stops himself, dropping his hand. A sharp pain blooms in Carter’s chest.
"Carter, I can't keep you."
Carter frowns. "What does that even mean?"
"All the others here - they've been set free. We took them the night of the party and we brought them here and we gave them their lives back. But not you, Carter.” He sighs, his eyes falling closed. “I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't know what I was doing. I swear, I didn't know, but I -” he opens his eyes, his gaze finding Carter’s. “I have to let you go, Carter. I have to set you free now."
Through a tight throat, Carter manages to argue, "I am free."
"Then prove it. I need you to prove it to me. Go. Do… whatever it is you want to do. Be without me."
"And then what?"
"And then maybe… we'll find our way back to each other. Maybe you'll choose me. Because that’s what I want, Carter. I want to be your choice. Not because you need me, but because you want me. I want you to look at me one day and decide that out of all your options, it's me."
Carter understands that. He hates it - with all of his heart, he fucking hates it - but he understands it.
