why did it have to be me? - boreo

trying again.

still theo's pov babes 🤭
HUGE HUGE HUGE WARNING!! : this talks abt attempted suicide, so it can be triggering, and if you're dealing with those thoughts, feel free to talk to me, my disc is phechyk#9359 and my snap is s.omaraa :)

Boris ended up taking care of me for the next four days, although I only had a cold. I couldn't tell what emotions he had on his face at any given time. Sometimes he seemed annoyed, others he seemed worried. It was strange. I did end up getting better, probably because he wouldn't let me touch a single drop of alcohol or even be around a single drug. I kept telling him that I was okay, but he never believed me, ever. I was well enough to pass for being okay today, although I was definitely still somewhat sick.
"Boris, move, I'm gonna go grab something."
"Stay, Potter, what do you want?" he asked, sitting up. He brushed the hair out of my face.
"I can get it, I'm not sick anymore." I protested, sitting up as well. He pushed me back down.
"Were you going to try to get alcohol, Potter?" he asked, a smug look on his face.
"Maybe. I don't know. I can drink now, I'm not sick."
"No. No alcohol until I say, Potter. You agreed."
"I can drink it now!"
"No, not yet."
He was already out the door, walking downstairs. I groaned and shoved my face into my pillow. I figured I should enjoy this, as soon as I got better I would be ditched for Kotku again. The thought of them together made my stomach twist.
"Potter, I have medicine. Take it." he said as he walked in the door with a syringe in his hand.
"We have pill medicine, I can just take an Advil." I said, laying back down.
"No, that is painkiller, not sick medicine, am not stupid, Potter," he said. "Sit up and take it."
"No."
"Am not asking, Potter. Take it."
"No. I hate that medicine."
"I do not care. Take. It."
I sat up and took it, spitting it into a tissue when he went downstairs. I wish he would actually care like this normally. I don't think he'd ever break up with her, but I also don't think he'd ever stop fucking me, either. At least he cared about me enough for sex.
"Potter, am going out to get stuff, I will be back."
"Mkay." I mumbled. "Can I come?"
"No, you stay here."
"Why?"
"Because, Potter."
"That's not a good reason."
"You are like child."
"Well, I am a child."
"Quiet, Potter. Just stay here and sleep, hm?"
"Fine."

He was actually back in a reasonable time, although he didn't bring anything good. It was all medicine, which I whined to him about for a good thirty minutes until he told me he would return all the pill types he bought and switch them out for the liquids. He let me lay on the couch for a while until I started having a coughing fit, where he carried me back to bed after I finished hacking up a lung.
     "Potter, did you take the medicine? The dose is twelve hour long." he asked, a skeptical look on his face.
     "Yeah." I lied.
     "I don't believe you," he said. "Stay put, am getting more medicine."
     "Not a liquid one, right?"
     "Depends."
     I groaned, following him downstairs, trying to grab a beer while he wasn't paying attention.
     "Potter. Go back upstairs. I said stay put."
     I didn't move. "No."
     He sighed. I think he just gave in at this point. He grabbed the medicine, and just as I was about to grab a beer from the fridge and run upstairs, he grabbed me and sat me on the island countertop. He put the syringe near my mouth, but I kept turning my head.
     "Potter! Take the damn medicine!"
     I shook my head. I hated liquid medicine, I always had. He grabbed my face and placed the medicine down for a second, trying to pry my mouth open.
     "Potter! Open your mouth and swallow it!"
     "No!" I said, closing my mouth as quick as possible, but the syringe was already in my mouth.
"Swallow it, Potter." he said, his voice stern and rough, for once.
I did what he said, forcing the grape flavored medicine down my throat.
"You are like difficult child."
"The same difficult child you cheat on your stupid girlfriend with?"
"Ex-girlfriend." he corrected.
     I tilted my head, obviously confused. He must have noticed this, because he laughed.
     "Just kidding, Potter," he smiled. "She always complained you were jealous, I wanted to see if she was right."
     "Oh," I said, masking my disappointment. She was right, I was jealous. "Nah, not jealous."
     "Your outburst is the reason you are sick, Potter. Are you jealous?"
"No! No, not jealous." I said. I scowled internally as remembered her.
     "Why would she think you are jealous then, hm, Potter?" he questioned, placing a hand on my face.
     "Maybe because she's a jealous bitch," I responded. If I didn't love him so much, I would have swatted his hand away. "I don't know."
     "She is not a bitch, Potter," he said. "And she is not the jealous one."
     "Well, I don't know, you always complain about her when you're drunk." I pointed out. "You once told me that you would rather die than have to fuck her again. Then we fucked."
     "Bullshit," he protested. "You are sick. You should be asleep. Come on."
     He pulled me off the counter and carried me up the stairs, although I kept trying to get him to put me down. He refused each time, climbing into bed next to me.
     "Sleep, okay? Just sleep." he told me, pulling me as close to him as possible.
     I nodded. "Hey, Boris?"
    "What's wrong, Potter?"
    "If you had to choose, me or Kotku, who would you pick?"
    "Am not sure. Who would you pick, me or red-head?"
    "Pippa, and I'd pick you."
    "Hm, is that true?"
    "Yeah, she's amazing and all, but, you know. I like you better."
    "You are too kind, Potter."
    "Yeah, I know."

And I wish I could say that I know Boris would choose me, but I knew I couldn't. I wasn't entirely unconvinced that his small amount of feelings for me, if I got lucky enough that there were any, had died. Mine had never left. I knew that maybe one day, maybe, I could get over him. But that wouldn't be anytime soon. Nor would he feel the same. Not like I did. Not the way I felt. He wouldn't have to deal with the fact that I wouldn't be something he could have because I have someone else that I truly love. He would never have to deal with that, and even if he did, I knew I would find myself running back into his arms no matter what. It feels like he doesn't care, and I don't even mean to be pessimistic.

"Potter, what are you thinking about?" I heard him ask, breaking me out of my trance.
"Things."
"Well, go to sleep. We can have tomorrow all to ourselves, okay? I will even let you drink, in small bits."
"Thanks. I'll go to sleep in a few."
"So will I, then."
"No, go to sleep," I protested. "I'll be asleep in a minute."
"You lie, Potter."
"I don't!"
"The last time you said you would be asleep in a minute, I was dragging your half-conscious body off the street and begging you to stay." he mumbled, a hint of heartbreak in his normally dull tone. I remember that night, I was sober.
"Oh."
"Sleep, now."
"Whatever."
     That was when he cared. That was before Kotku was his whole life. Before he stopped hanging out with me just because he thought it was fun. He wouldn't care if I was dead now, and I don't even know what I did.
     By the way he was breathing, he was asleep, dead asleep, for once. I slid the pillow I was lying on into my spot, and stared at him for a second. He wouldn't notice I was gone. He wouldn't notice anything about me. I left the room quietly, shutting the door softly behind me.
     I walked out to the pool, the chill of the air pricking my skin. The water was even colder. I contemplated for a moment, wondering if I really wanted to do this. I took off the shirt, which really belonged to Boris, but whatever, leaving me in just jeans and boxers. I jumped in, not bothering to worry about the water I inhaled. The chlorine stung my lungs, and the ice-like temperature of the water almost froze my skin. I opened my eyes just long enough to see the stars, shutting them as the water began to intrude with its pain. As I started sinking to the bottom, I smiled a bit, realizing that I wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. Not Boris, not my dad, not Xandra, not Kotku, not the pain of my mom being gone (which was the worst pain of them all)— nothing. Finally, the black started to surround me, and for once since the accident, I felt at peace.

wc: 1507
a/n: so this is rlly sad + also kinda short, i promise the next chapter is going to be happier, maybe not happy, but happier than this, i swear on my dogs 💗