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 Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 8:25 pm
He was still trying to comfort her when she said it. He froze, staring at her, not sure if he believed what he heard or not. His lips twitched in what seemed to be an attempt at a smile, as if he was waiting for her to tell him she was joking.
But that never came...
Paris... wasn't a girl...? What did that mean...? If she wasn't a girl...?
Chris realized what was happening this time. When he'd found out about how Skye cheated on him, he hadn't realized what was going on. But now, after working on getting over that betrayal for the past few years, well... it wasn't as though he'd never felt this way before. But after trying to protect himself from it happening again, it made it seem so much worse.
His heart was breaking. And not in one quick blow, but slowly and painfully as he stared at the... very pretty boy that sat on the couch next to him.
Paris was a boy. How did he miss that before...? He should have known, he should have realized that something wasn't right. Was that why Paris would never let him touch her? Why she would always stop him from getting too intimate...? She'd never let his hands wander, even when they were so close, physically. How did he miss that?? Staring at him now, he couldn't even tell he was a boy. He looked like a beautiful young woman with a small chest, but he never cared for top heavy women before.
He couldn't feel anything, he couldn't hear anything but the pounding of his own heart as it broke into pieces. Somewhere in the back of his mind he told himself how overdramatic he was being, but he'd really liked Paris. Really liked her. But he'd been a fool, he'd been played, lead on, tricked into believing something that was never real. His limbs were numb, and he could feel his body slumping as he realized just how much of an idiot he'd been. Of how stupid he was to be tricked like this.
"You should leave..." he forced out, barely able to speak over a whisper. He was trying so hard to stay in this state of emotionlessness. He didn't want to do something he would regret, but right now... he didn't think he could stand the sight of him.
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 8:32 pm
"No..."
Paris couldn't take it -- not that look on Chris's face, not the sound of his voice. Everything was wrong. Chris looked hurt, devastated, and he should never look like that. Never. He sounded just as bad, like Paris had taken his heart and crushed it in the palm of his hand, and Paris knew what that felt like, because he'd just effectively done the same to his own. It didn't fall to his feet for him to step on this time; it exploded into a million tiny pieces right there in his chest.
Dying would have been easier. He didn't think it would hurt as much.
"Please..." he begged again, just as weakly as before.
What was he supposed to say now? How could he explain himself? How was he supposed to make Chris understand? That he hadn't meant it? But he had, back when it had started, he'd meant what he'd done. He'd thought it was amusing, that Chris was easy and foolish. Paris was the fool. He knew that now. He would do anything to make up for it, to fix what he'd done, to apologize, but what could he do, what could he say when the truth would only hurt more?
He should have kissed him. He'd told himself he would, before, when he'd planned to do this tonight -- one last kiss before everything was destroyed. Somehow he'd forgotten. Through everything, he'd forgotten he wanted just one more, so that he could remember, always, what being worth something felt like.
"I never went to Crystal," he rushed to explain, even though he knew it wouldn't make anything better. "I don't have a scholarship. I only went there once. Ladon and I snuck in. That's how I have the uniform. I really did use to go to Meadowview, but I was expelled last year and... and I went to Hillworth. But everything else!" he said, desperate, clinging tight to Chris's arm, to his shoulder. "Everything else I ever told you was the truth! I never lied about anything else!"
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 8:42 pm
Please...? Please what...?
He could barely hear Paris's plea, not knowing what he could possibly want to tell him after that. He didn't want to hear anything else, he didn't think he could stand to hear anything else. It was happening again. The pain that was much more than just skin deep. There was no describing it, really. It was as though he'd been plunged into ice cold darkness and there was nothing he could do to pull himself out.
Paris's voice was carrying through his numbed senses. He could hear him through the ringing in his ears. Of course he wouldn't have gone to Crystal, and after a lie like that, it made all the sense in the world that Paris had attended Hillworth, instead. It made so much sense.
And he was such an idiot. He'd been fooled by a boy in a skirt with long legs. What did that say about himself? He'd found Paris so attractive when he thought he was a she, but now? He wasn't sure if he was disgusted in Paris or in himself, but the fact remained that he'd been tricked. For months.
"Get out," he tried again, the ringing fading as his senses slowly returned after his moment of shock. The feeling in his limbs were returning as well, and his eyes narrowed into a sharp glare as he jerked his arm away from Paris.
"Get the <********> out of my apartment!" he shouted, jumping to his feet and throwing a hand towards the door, as if Paris had suddenly forgotten where it was. "Get out, GET OUT!!"
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 8:49 pm
"No, no, no, no!"
He could see Chris's anger before he acted on it, saw it building in his eyes, and he cringed. Even still, he reached out for him when he ripped himself away, desperate to keep him, to make him understand, even if he knew he couldn't, because he had nothing to say to defend himself. Chris had every right to be angry, every right to be upset, to hate him, to want him gone, to never want to see him again, but Paris still wanted, still needed to try.
"Please, let me explain!"
How? What? Nothing he said would make any difference now. It would only make things worse.
He jumped to his feet as well, hands grasping Chris's shirt, clutching tightly, forcing Chris to look at him, to see. It hurt. Everything did. His chest, his throat, his eyes. He could feel the tears coming, that traitorous prickle in the corner of his eyes that quickly changed to burning, and he held his breath and clamped his mouth shut in an attempt to stop them before they could begin.
"Chris!" he tried, still begging, his voice catching in his throat, strained and cracking. "Christopher, please! It doesn't change anything! I still like you, I still want you, I still need-"
He stopped. He knew that it was useless. No matter how he felt, he knew he couldn't expect for Chris to feel the same any longer. He couldn't. He didn't. All the warmth had left his eyes. They looked cold. Furious.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 8:56 pm
He didn't want to hurt like this. He didn't want to see Paris hurt. He'd cared so much for her, spent so much time and energy on trying to make her happy, on getting over his fear of being rejected, cheated on, left to wither away. But this was different. This, he thought, was worse than being cheated on or abandoned. And he hated himself for being such a fool. He really was a fool, a moron. Zia was right. No matter who he tried dating, they would always end up hurting him. He hated that she was right.
Paris was supposed to have been different. Paris was supposed to prove that he could have a relationship and not worry about dating just for the money his family had. Paris had been different. Or at least he did a great job of making Chris feel as though he wasn't being used. He'd been used this entire time, hadn't he?
"I don't ******** care!" he heard himself yelling, his hands reaching out to push her away from him. Him away from him. Paris was a boy. He had to remind himself. "It changes everything! ******** you, Paris. If that's your real name!" he accused, even though he had already said everything besides just a few little details had been true. He didn't know what to believe any more. He was so angry, his body ached, his head was spinning.
He didn't even register grabbing the lamp from the side table and throwing it across the room, where it crashed and shattered against the painted brick wall. "Get the ******** out!" he yelled again, the temper he had kept contained for years finally breaking free. He wanted to scream and yell and throw his temper tantrum without Paris there, without him in the way of getting hurt. He didn't want to hurt him. Not after he'd spent so long caring for him and doing everything in his power to make sure she was happy and safe.
Chris didn't want to see the pain in Paris's eyes. It hurt too much already.
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:03 pm
"Of course it's my real name!" he said, stumbling away as Chris shoved him. He didn't try to reach out to him again, merely stood there looking sad and lost and hopeless. "I swear nothing else was a lie! Everything else I've ever said, everything else I've ever done, it's all been the truth! Please, you have to believe me!"
What was happening? Why were things turning out like this?
Even though he'd known it before, that things would spiral out of control, that he was effectively bringing an end to how things had always been between them, everything still seemed so wrong. Where was Chris's understanding? Where was his care and concern? How could he have done this to Chris, turned him into this angry, bitter, hateful person with the enraged face at the baleful eyes?
The shattering of the lamp echoed in his ears with a note of finality, as if the noise were not merely some hapless object being violently discarded, but their relationship cracking and breaking and smashed apart beyond repair.
"Chris, stop!" he pleaded with him. He didn't back away. He wasn't afraid. Chris couldn't hurt him any more than he'd already hurt himself. "Calm down and listen! You can't do this! Please, you have to understand why I did it! I didn't know that it would be like this!" he insisted again. "I didn't know that you and I... and then it was too late! What was I supposed to do?! I knew it would ruin everything, and I... I couldn't let that happen! Please... please, I didn't mean to hurt you!"
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:13 pm
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he yelled, not wanting to hear excuses, not wanting to hear anything, really. He was done with this. He was already feeling completely empty and betrayed. He couldn't do this any more. Paris had to leave. He had to get him out of his apartment.
"Get the ******** out, Paris!" he shouted, taking a quick step forward to grab onto his arm and force him to follow him towards the door. He paused only to grip onto the back of a chair that was in his way and throw it across the room. "I don't ******** care. Get out! "
The ringing in his ears was back. He felt like any more and he wouldn't be able to hear anything. And that was fine. He'd rather not listen to the many excuses Paris was spouting off. He didn't mean for this to happen...? Was that what he was trying to say?What did he think would happen?? Did he think that Chris would just accept the fact that he'd been lied to over the past several months? Tricked into believing he was with someone other than what he thought? Paris wasn't a girl. Instead, Chris had been kissing and holding hands with and falling asleep at night next to a very pretty boy.
Well, he wasn't going to put up with this any more. He was done.
He let go of Paris's arm as he reached the door, fumbling with the lock and finally ripping it open. "Get. Out," he hissed through gritted teeth, his chest heaving with each strained breath. He was trying to control his temper. He really was. But it was difficult not to be blinded into a rage when something like this happened.
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:21 pm
Paris struggled against the hand that gripped his arm, but it was no use. Chris’s grip was too tight. He was too strong. Paris was pulled, stumbling and on the verge of tears, to the door, where they paused together, Chris glaring and Paris pleading with him, entreating him with his eyes to listen. Just listen. Finally, Paris managed to slip his arm free, and faced Chris with another apology already on the tip of his tongue.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, don’t kick me out!”
He remembered saying something similar before, but in a different place, to a different person.
’Don’t push me away… Don’t kick me out…’
Had it been his fault then? The last time?
He knew it was now.
“Chris, please!” he reached out for him again, placing a hand on either side of Chris’s face, holding him there, forcing him to face him, to look at him. He couldn’t allow Chris to discard him so simply, couldn’t let go without trying, without making him understand, without fighting for him.
His face was wet and he was shaking. He felt himself falling, felt everything breaking, and try as he might he couldn’t stop it. What else could he do? What else could he say?
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry… You can’t do this… I need you…”
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:29 pm
He couldn't do this. It hurt too much...
He didn't know how he didn't see Paris move towards him, but suddenly he felt his hands against his face. It was like being on fire and then plunged into a bucket of ice water. Chris's breath caught in his chest and his eyes widened in shock. He thought his heart had already been shattered, but here it was, happening all over again at Paris's words.
But he couldn't do this. Regardless of what Paris said, it didn't matter. He'd still been lied to, he'd still been tricked into believing that Paris was a girl... for so long... This entire relationship had been built on lies. He'd been tricked into thinking he was with someone else, to want someone else, to really, really like someone else.
Now...? Now it was as if he was looking at an alien. His Paris was his girlfriend. This Paris standing before him... this wasn't his Paris...
"Get out," he choked out, reaching up to grab hold of one of Paris's wrists, forcing him back and towards the door again, pushing him out into the hall. "I don't want to see you." It was too painful... Was he pathetic...? Probably... but after everything, he felt like he was allowed a moment.
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:38 pm
His throat constricted and he let out a breath that sounded like a sob as he was shoved out into the hallway, looking in on Chris who stood in the door, broken and betrayed and so, so angry. Paris couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone look like that before. Anyone else would have simply shown him a disgusted look and turned away, forgotten about him altogether, or else hit him, hit him and hate him and be done with it.
But Chris was different. He always had been. He was angry, but more than that he was devastated, and Paris could do nothing more than stand there and witness it, as his heart clenched and his stomach twisted and tears spilled over and he could barely breathe.
“Please…” he said again, but it was weak and soft. He didn’t know what to say anymore. He had nothing, no more excuses, no more explanations.
Nothing he’d said already had been good enough anyway, and what more was there than that?
“What about my purse?” he asked, defeated. His arms hung limp at his sides, and he had to tear his eyes away, lower them to the floor in sadness and shame. “And Sassy?”
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:43 pm
Chris wanted to hate him. To force him out of the apartment and wash his hands of him completely. But he couldn't just pretend those long months spent together had never existed. That was too much time, too much energy and effort put into a relationship that should have never existed.
He paused when Paris mentioned his purse and the cat, and Chris turned to make his way back into the living room to get those items for him. His head hurt and his chest was tight — he was surprised he could still breathe at this point. The poor kitten he found under the couch still, apparently terrified of the loud noises and screaming, and Chris felt his heart break again as Sassy cowered away from him when he tried reaching for her. He hadn't meant to get the kitten involved in this... It was just between him and Paris. And Anna must be scared, too... They'd never had a fight like that before. Hell, they'd never had a fight, period.
Sassy was crying by the time he pulled her out and carried her to the case the Paris toted her around in, little mewls of distress that tore at whatever was left intact of his heart. He carefully placed her into the carrier, before going to pick up Paris's purse from the island, bringing both it and the kitten to him at the door.
His temper had simmered down by now, but he couldn't look at Paris as he handed the two bags to him. There was nothing for him to say, nothing more for him to do. He made sure Paris had both items before gently shutting the door, not wanting to slam it and make people want to call the police on him. That would just be the frosting on the cake, wouldn't it?
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 9:54 pm
Paris waited, head lowered, eyes welled up, tears pouring down his face, but other than the single choked sob he’d released before, he didn’t make another sound. He stood quietly, downcast, ripped apart and miserable, hating himself, deriding himself, cursing himself for this dumb, pointless game. He’d been so stupid, so foolish. Why, all those months ago, had he thought it would be funny? What part of this was amusing at all?
He took his purse and the cat carrier from Chris when his boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – returned to the door, hardly able to bear the distressed cries of his kitten. He didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand to look in Chris’s eyes again, couldn’t stand to see that expression on his face, like Paris had just ruined everything that had ever been good in the world.
He had never felt so horrible in his life. He didn’t even think it had hurt this much when he’d watched his mother leave. Back then, he’d only been ten-years-old. Just a child. He’d barely understood what was happening, had stood and watched his mother walk out the door with a single suitcase thinking she’d soon be back form wherever she was doing.
He wasn’t that child anymore, and he had no thoughts of a heartfelt reunion this time. Chris wouldn’t take him back. It was over. Done.
La fin.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and held his breath, as if he could somehow stop it all, as if when he opened his eyes again, everything would be back to the way it was. But it wasn’t. His eyes reopened, and he saw the floor in the hallway outside Chris’s apartment, and he saw Chris in the doorway, looking at him as if he never wanted to see him again.
Paris took a shuddering breath and turned away, heading toward the elevator, dejected and alone.
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