Project Apollo: Book Two ✔️

Chapter Fifteen

Jason Archer

The worst part about realizing you were growing feelings for someone was that your mind tended to stick to that one particular person. You wanted to tell them everything. Hand over your darkest secrets. Give them anything they asked for. And help them if they were, say, stuck in a pit of depression.

Right now, I was staring at Apollo's open door at eleven in the evening. I escaped to my room this afternoon after Val took the cake out of the oven–effectively distracting Apollo away from me. I glanced at the mirror, cursing under my breath before I brought my gaze back to Apollo's room. He was in there–the TV was on, and the lamp beside his bed was still on. I hated that I knew he turned it off before falling asleep. I hated that I knew he was awake–likely stewing in his dark thoughts.

I knew what depression could do to someone–I was no stranger to it.

Cursing once more, I hopped off the bed. I was only going to check on him and ask if he needed anything. That was all. Nothing more. I wasn't going to find an excuse to spend more time with him. I couldn't. I was treading across dangerous waters. I can have feelings all I want and still know I was the last thing Apollo needed in his life outside of a friendship.

I poked my head inside his room, instantly looking at him. He was curled up under his blanket on the side where the mirror would show his reflection if he were sitting up. I frowned at how much worse he'd gotten. I wanted to take it away. He didn't deserve to feel this way.

Apollo must have sensed my presence because his head turned, still lying on the mattress as he gazed at me. He didn't say anything, and I lost my reason for coming in here when he continued to stare at me like I was...worth something. Like he was...happy to see me. He didn't have to smile to show it–his eyes spoke for him.

Deciding I was scraping my idea of only asking how he was doing, I made the choice to sit on the bed next to him. He followed each one of my movements, not even looking away when I was settled. And the reason I knew that was because I was looking at him, too.

Please don't ruin me.

Please.

I tried to smile as my thoughts jumped right back to those feelings I had for him. "Before you ask, yes, I absolutely came to check on you."

He grumbled. "I'll be okay."

"That implies the future, so you're not okay right now."

"No."

He turned back to watching Supernatural, so I took that as my cue to shut my mouth. Though, the longer we went without talking, the antsier I became. It wasn't fair. Apollo shouldn't have to go through this. I was a psychology major. I could...not do this. Everyone was different, and I was nowhere near good enough to give anyone therapy. Not when I couldn't figure out how to pick myself up.

I started chewing my lip, wondering what I could tell him that would hold his interest. But maybe he didn't want me to talk. I took it as a good sign that he didn't tell me to leave. It was like I had my own time slot, too. None of Triple-A was in here right now. I wondered if maybe...I could tell him a story.

A story that was dark.

Maybe to show him that he wasn't alone.

A story of a boy.

I swallowed as I glanced at Apollo from the corner of my eye. "Can I tell you a story?"

He didn't turn away from the TV but pulled the blanket tighter around him. "What kind of story?"