Elijah (MxM)

Chapter Seven

I had not seen Elijah or Catherine in a week, thus saving me from harrowing guilt and grief. I was lonely, which was new to me, but it was easier to deal with than everything else going wrong in my life. After the night we spent together in the tent, I woke up to find him gone. I started to feel like everything that happened was a dream. The tent, the drunken sex, Ricky, all of it. And since Elijah wasn't there to prove those things were real, I started to believe it, distance myself from it. I tried to tell myself it was for the best, that maybe he had realized that too. But deep down I wanted him, more than anything in the world. And it killed me.

Today would break my week-long silence streak, Catherine demanding I come to her apartment for a family dinner. Mom and Dad would be there, so would Elijah. Yippy skippy. I couldn't handle sitting there and watching him pretend to be happy with her. To kiss her and touch her, so innocently, not like how he touched me. Everything between them felt very PG-13, and it kind of made me feel better. I knew it couldn't have been like that all the time, but at least while I was around. I thought back to a time where all I could think about was meth, and now my mind was plagued with Elijah. An equally unhealthy and foul habit.

I showered and tried to dress nicely, opting for a pair of black jeans that didn't have holes in them. My hair was pulled back, light brown strands framing my carved cheekbones. But even though I was clean, I still felt dirty, grimacing at myself in the mirror before leaving. I crossed the street, wet from the earlier rain, before walking into The Barb, making my way upstairs. I didn't bother to knock before stepping in, taking my coat off, and hanging it on the hook. My parents sat at the island, nursing some drinks while Elijah cooked. Of course, he can cook. I sure as hell know Catherine can't.

She stood behind him, talking to Mom and Dad, smiling away like everything was grand. She wore a tight-fit dress, hugging her curves, the blue color accentuating her wavy blond hair. I suddenly felt extremely underdressed, looking to Elijah to see him wearing a blue button-up and black pants, matchy matchy with wifey. He was the first one to notice me, my eyes trailing down to his chest to see skin exposed through open buttons. He didn't say anything for too long, clutching a wooden spoon in a white-knuckled grip. Luckily, Cathy turned around, breaking the awkward stare.

"Kit! I didn't even hear you come in." She always spoke with such surprise upon seeing me, like she had expected me to be dead by now.

"You call, I come," I said, my hands falling to my sides expressively. "Per usual."

"Come sit." My mom said, patting the stool next to her, the one Elijah had sat in when—

I went and sat down, my eyes widening, waiting for someone to say something.

"You look nice." Cathy complimented me genuinely.

"Yeah, I didn't realize the dress-code was business formal." I looked around.

Catherine made a gesture that said, oh relax, before turning around to Elijah, whispering something in his ear with her hand on his back.

She took over at the stove and he turned to me.

"How do you take your coffee, Kit?" He asked.

I was surprised at his attention, shrinking under his dark gaze. "I don't know, uh, with a lot of cream and sugar?"

He suppressed a smile, his eyes twinkling. They actually twinkled.

"I could've guessed that." He claimed, turning back around and grabbing me a cup.

"Let me guess, you drink yours black?" I asked him.

He chuckled. "Yes."

I rolled my eyes.