Make Me Beg [BL]

Chapter 26

QOTD: favorite letter?

I'm tired. I want to sleep.

I miss Sammy. He's sleeping with Lucas. I wanted to run my hand through his hair while I tried lulling myself to sleep. But I couldn't.

I'm tired.

My sketchbook sat at the edge of my bed, mocking me. I hated drawing. I hated the way my hands grew stiff and my lines came out too heavy. I hated having to force my fingers to bend a certain way just to draw something that should've been easy for me.

But it wasn't anymore.

As I stared at the notepad more, I felt the anxiety from this morning. Where is he? He hasn't texted me. Did he leave me? He could just be sleeping, but what if he's not? What if he's ignoring me? He promised me he'd come.

I swallowed down the words when Rylan finally came to pick me up. I sketched, I told him. Because I did, I sketched while I waited for over two hours. Just like I did with Naomi.

I sketched and sketched and tore out page after page. I remember my frustration building as I tore out another page and shoved it into my bag. My hands shook and I couldn't force them to stop.

The cold always made my hands even worse than they already were. I could barely draw a straight line without my fingers cramping painfully. And still, I sketched line after line until he arrived.

It's okay, I told him. I knew you would come eventually.

I didn't, but I refused to leave. What if I leave and he comes? Then he'll think I left him. What if he gets mad I left? I'm supposed to wait for him. I had to swallow down all the anxiety I felt and smiled gratefully that he even remembered to pick me up.

With his hand clasped in mine, I prayed over and over that his alarm really didn't go off. Is he already getting tired of me? Is this a test? Is he silently laughing at me?

He came eventually, that's all that mattered to me. He can laugh, it's okay. I'd laugh. I'm sure someone laughed as they passed by me for the third time. I'm sure I looked laughable. He can laugh, as long as he comes in the end.

He can laugh all he wants then.

I wanted to sleep but anytime I closed my eyes all I could think about was the frustration I felt from not being able to sketch properly. I'm an artist, it should be easy. And then I remembered why it was so hard.

I could feel his foot stomping on my hands, over and over until my fingers broke.

I'm supposed to forget about Naomi but how can I when I have to live with it everyday? I'm scared. I'm scared that one day I won't be able to sculpt. Drawing is already hard enough, I don't know what I'll do if my hands grow stiff enough to not sculpt properly.