Chapter Sixteen

2.3K 138 60
                                    

Chapter Sixteen

"Get off me!" Darby shouted, suddenly recoiling from around me. "Don't touch me." He stumbled along the grass on his knees, close to the edge, where he rose onto his legs, steadily catching his balance.

"It's okay, Darby," I said, trying to calm him down, but I hadn't encountered someone like this before. The Darby that I knew was glorious and gorgeous, and completely fucking fearless. He would walk with his head held high, and he didn't give a shit about what anyone thought. He said and he did whatever the fuck he wanted, and I used to admire that about him so much. To see him like this, I could barely handle it. I knew he needed help, maybe even more than me. I wasn't even sure how long he'd been like this, but it must have been a long time, and a time spent completely alone.

"If you don't leave I'll fucking kill you!" he screamed. "I swear to god I will."

"You're not gonna hurt me, Darby," I said, stepping closer towards him.

"Just leave me alone," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. He was hysterical.

"No," I barked. I stepped closer to him, watching him stand there, fidgeting with himself, shaking his head and covering his ears like he was hearing things that I couldn't.

"Go away."

"No," I said firmly, grabbing him at his shoulders. "I just want to help."

"I don't want your fucking help!"

Instantly, he kneed me in the stomach, and I fell to the floor. I tried to rise to my feet but he kicked me in the side, and I fell back down again. I coughed and wrenched, sitting upwards.

As I rose to my feet, he came close to me, the anger boiling in his eyes, like he hated me more than anything else in the entire world. He came close to me, his fists clenched tightly, and dove onto me. His arms pinned me to the ground, and I looked up at his face, not wanting to move a muscle, expecting a punch to the face. Instead, he leaned down and kissed me suddenly, and I kissed him back almost instinctively, letting the moment take me away and remind me of the Darby I used to know.

His fingers went straight to the button of my jeans, unfastening it and shoving his hands into my underwear. He grabbed me and started stroking up and down, but I pulled his hands out and pushed him off of me hesitantly.

"You don't want me," I told him. "You know you don't."

"Fuck you," he spat back, recoiling further away from me. I felt helpless.

I knew that it was my fault he was like this. I lead him down that path, I played with him, just like I did with all the lads I've shagged. I guess I broke his heart too, and this was what was left of him. I knew I needed to help him, and the only help that he needed was psychological. I was responsible for him, I decided in that moment. It was my responsibility to make sure he was okay.

He pulled apart seconds after, muttering things to himself. The only way I knew how to help him was his mother. She was a local therapist in Penzance, one that even I went to as a child, but I didn't like her at all. She was a highly composed woman, and I didn't like that. She seemed too serious, and too cold to really understand anybody's issues other than her own. I'd stopped seeing her after one session, and I never went back. Her name was Dr. Demelza Darling, and she was a big bitch, if ever I met one.

"Come with me," I told Darby.

"Where?" he asked, looking confused.

"I'll buy you something to eat," I offered.

Save MeWhere stories live. Discover now