Psycho Hot (BoyxBoy)

TWENTY-TWO

Darren

     I can't remember the last time that I saw Kenneth.

Being in isolation for most of the day fucks with your perception of time. My mental capacity has significantly declined since the first time I stepped foot into the asylum. I don't even remember what they fed us for dinner last night.

All I know is that I miss my four-eyed boyfriend.

With a sigh, I throw myself onto my bed. I then remove a cigarette and a box of matches from the pocket of my jumpsuit. Quickly, I stick the thing in between my lips.

As I strike the match against the box, a flame ignites and lights the end of the cigarette. I inhale with a satisfied sigh.

I hate smoking.

I do. I swear it. But, this hellhole has made me quite the nicotine addict. There isn't much to do otherwise. Reading and smoking- it's a mental patient's favourite pastime.

Kenneth doesn't like it either. Every single time I whip out a cigarette, his face scrunches up in disgust.

But he won't confess that he hates it. He'll recommend that I stop, but he won't push it. No matter how much it bothers him, he doesn't want to hurt my feelings. Kenneth is so considerate towards others. I don't deserve his empathy.

I flick some of the ashes to the ground and take another long drag. God, I'm bored.

Right as I'm about to pick up a book, the door swings open, and I'm met with my favourite person. I toss the killing stick to the ground and stomp on it.

No words are needed as our lips magnetically collide. That familiar tingling happens throughout my body. I could kiss him for hours.

My hands find their way to Kenneth's cheeks, cupping them and deepening the kiss. His tongue explores my mouth as if it's on a personal mission.

However, the moment is short-lived when he pulls away to say, "You were smoking again."

"Nice to see you too," I mock.

He rolls his eyes. "I can taste it."

"I had nothing else to do to pass the time. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he answers with a fake smile. It's not fine.

Kenneth then walks over to my bed to sit. He pats the mattress space next to him, signaling me to follow his lead. When I do, he speaks up, "I came here because I have to discuss something with you. It's a bit urgent."

My heart rate slows down. This doesn't sound good at all. Did I do something wrong? Am I tiring him out? Is he breaking up with me? Hundreds of negative thoughts flood my mind. I try to keep my composure externally, but internally, I'm not doing so hot.

"Go ahead," I prompt.

"If I'm crossing the line or making you uncomfortable, please tell me," he sighs. I gulp. "But we need to talk about your parents."

"Oh?"

My unease disappears, but now, I'm puzzled. I've already told him everything that he needs to know about my parents. He knows the story. What more could he want?

"I want to know who I'm going to be dealing with when I visit today," Kenneth clears up.

"You're doing what?"

"I'm going to your parents' house to see if they'll help me. I thought we discussed this a few weeks ago?" Kenneth says as he pulls out a slip of paper from his pocket. "Don't forget that you gave me this too."

I did forget. Yes, I brought up the idea a while ago, but I didn't think he'd actually put it to use.

"Well, it was more for you to have for safekeeping. I would've lost it easily," I reason.

Yet, he ignores what I've said. "Lennon reminded me of the address when I met her. She made me realize that we need more evidence. If I can get your parents to testify-"

"Lennon?" I interrupt him.

"Remember? Patient 317? It's the name from the file that Dr. Hughes gave to me."

I rub my eyes in exhaustion. "Is that what you've been doing this whole time? Playing Sherlock Holmes in the asylum?"

"Is that a problem?" he snaps back.

"I think you need to calm down."

Kenneth seems to be drained, mentally and physically. The way he's acting right now - irritable and jumpy - is worrying. It's like he's running on no sleep and five cups of coffee. I know he doesn't want to hear me nag him, but he needs to relax. He's doing too much for one person.

"What I need is to talk to your parents," he argues.

"You shouldn't go over there."

"You can't stop me, Darren."

I love him. I really do. But, god, is he damn stubborn. He refuses to listen to my warnings. My mum is fine, but my father needs to stay far away from him. I don't even want to imagine the possibilities of what he'd do to Kenneth.

"I don't want you getting hurt. You do not know what my father is capable of."

"I'm not a child, Darren. I can handle myself out in the real world."

I loudly exhale, 'If he knows who you are as a person, you will not live to see another day. Trust me."

"Then I'll bring something to defend myself." Kenneth shrugs as if this is no big deal.

"You shouldn't have to..."

"So, what I'm hearing is that you don't want to get out of here?" he asks, pausing for a moment. I don't reply. "Do you want to spend your life locked inside this shitty cell while the warden continues her murder streak? You could be next, Darren. She's already on to us. Is this the place that you want to be forgotten in and left to die? I know you're not happy here. No one is. Not even me."

"I understand that, but still, you don't have to do all this-"

"I'm doing this for you-" he cries. "-because I fucking love you."

The way his voice cracks makes me melt into a puddle of nothingness. I pull him close to my chest and wrap my arms around him. As he softly sobs into my bicep, I whisper, "I know that, baby, I know. You're doing what you can to get me out of here. No one else would do that for me. But, right now, I want you to rest on this. You seem overwhelmed."

"I want to be a regular couple," he sniffs. "That's all."

"One day, love."

Kenneth is beginning to make me care for the perfect "picket-fence-and-painted-house" lifestyle. I never fantasized about those silly stereotypes until lately. Now, the one thing that helps me fall asleep is dreaming of our life outside this place.

Though, right now, I can't let him continue to be burdened with my problems. If he's suffering, then I can't be content. His health is a more serious matter to me.

"I need you to promise me something,' I destroy the silence.

Kenneth glances up at me with tear-stained cheeks. "Yes?"

"Before you go searching for my parents, please get some sleep."

"I promise."