S T A Y

He was always begging him to stay.

God, why couldn't he just stop?

Ethan knew the truth long before he'd been willing to admit it. Evan would never stop. For as long as they lived, he would beg and plead for Ethan to stay for Ethan to shove aside what he knew was best for himself. He was too scared to be labeled selfish or like he didn't care or want things to work out, so he pushed down his feelings for years until they began to burst from his seams like he was a stuffed animal. At first, it started small, a little fluff here and there, but soon enough, his limbs disconnected from his torso, and he could no longer hold his stuffing inside to keep himself together.

During another argument, another broken wrist, another fucking night of frustration that made him detest being in the same room as Evan, Ethan found the courage to set himself free. He was tired of being hurt and only hurting Evan in the process. The words came out of him quickly and jumbled, but he needed to get them out before he could stop himself and endure more time in a relationship where he could not grow, where he was unhappy. "I can't do this anymore." Rang loud and clear, and he knew the hurt Evan would feel was instant, and he made damn sure not to look at him, not to shove the words back into his mouth and swallow them whole to keep Evan satisfied.

Ethan was never as emotional, never very good at spelling out how he felt. He was straightfaced and unmoving, despite being lit aflame inside. He could be so passionate about his art; it was difficult to believe he couldn't get his feelings across emotionally or verbally. But he had even tried that, didn't he? Ethan made art for Evan until even that couldn't be enough and until he couldn't stand to pick up a pencil or paintbrush. Everything was squeezed from Ethan until he had nothing left to give.

His usual firey temperature fizzled, taking all the heat of the room with him. Cold and quiet. Ethan wished that was how he felt on the inside, but his heart was breaking, the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life with, would no longer be there once the night was over. But he was tired, tired of being broken down, feeling like a shell of the man he once was. No longer did he find passion in his art and the hobbies he enjoyed doing. He wanted to be himself and do what was best for him. Damn it all if that meant he was selfish, he guessed he was if it meant putting himself above all else to do what was right for him and him alone.

Was he a bad guy for that kind of thinking? Ethan knew his feelings were gone, and though he tried to work past that in hopes they would return, they vanished a long time ago, and there was no coming back from that. Yet, was he still to be blamed? Yes, he did it for himself, but it was for Evan too. Why would he continue to subject Evan to a one-sided relationship? Evan deserved someone who loved him just as much as he loved. So, why would he lead them down a path full of mediocrity only to end up in the same place? Broken and alone, he only wanted what was best for both of them.

Ethan met Evan fresh out of high school. He'd been running away from his sister after he'd gotten them away from their abusive father. Ethan thought that was best for her at the time. He had nothing going for him, no future, but she was so bright and intelligent and so full of life that she couldn't possibly go anywhere but up. After he ran away to a circus of supernaturals of all place, he hoped she'd make a successful life of her own without him dragging her down. Ethan should have expected she'd go against him and look for him. After some months, she succeeded in her search, but she was too late. Ethan had already met Evan and developed feelings for the dragon hybrid. 

Ethan was eighteen while Evan was close to his forties. Evan practically lived a full adult life while Ethan had only started his, with nowhere near the same experiences, and still felt like a child. Hell, Evan had two kids of his own for fuck's sake! Ethan was practically their age, which not only made him feel uncomfortable as hell, but he sure as shit didn't want kids. Evan knew that and still tried to force them onto Ethan, which only served to make him distance himself from Evan and the two twins. 

The more Ethan reflected on the situation, on their past, the more he realized they were doomed from the start. But he had still loved Evan. God, he loved Evan so fucking much, but the fire was gone. He knew he would always love him, but he couldn't be with him, not in the way he wanted. Ethan knew Evan was heartbroken; he was too, but the one thing he wasn't expecting was the anger. Ethan was no stranger to rage being a Djinn, there were some of his kind with tempers to rival demons, but he was never prepared for Evan's draconic wrath. The man's usually calm demeanor was almost nonexistent after they parted ways, which only served to cause Ethan more pain and heartache.

Plenty of nights passed with Ethan home alone and sobbing into the space they once shared. Sometimes he'd still expect to see Evan bundled up in blankets watching Netflix or running around playing with his cat. Sometimes Ethan would lie in bed and expect to roll over and be embraced, but there was always nothing followed by hot tears. Ethan began to distance himself and stayed locked in his room day in and day out. He hardly slept, he rarely ate, surely dying would be better than this? The dull ache in his chest and the small reminders were too much. 

Ethan wanted to sell their house, but how could he when he could hardly manage to move? His first instinct was to ask his only sister, Laila, for help, but was that awkward when she was married to Evan's brother? Fuck, all he could do was sleep and hope his heart could put itself back together. Ethan wished for solace in his dreams, but Evan plagued them. In his dreams, he could love Evan again; he could remember what it was like to plan out his life with his love. In his nightmares, he was reminded of Evan's rage and often felt it by being stabbed in the back or choked to death.

Weeks and months passed this way. Evan was gone, and he wasn't coming back. All ties had been cut, which hurt more than Ethan wanted to admit. A part of him hoped they could have been friends, that they could start over and learn about each other for a strong friendship. However, the more time that passed, the more Ethan realized that would never happen with Evan. Evan was too emotional; he would always remember. There was no setting everything aflame and beginning anew for them. Still, Ethan felt he was only half whole with Evan gone. A part of him was missing, cut out, and bleeding. Would he ever get over Evan, would he ever get better? What was he without Evan?

Ethan had no fucking clue.

Ethan sighed, a burst of hot air exiting his small frame. The cold room began to heat up again, and Ethan watched the windows steam with the sudden rush of warmth. Ethan wasn't sure how long he'd been like this, but he did know his stretching caused pops throughout his entire body, and he felt like he hadn't moved in ages. Rolling to the edge of the too large bed, after weeks of doing the same thing, Ethan stretched out a leg and pressed his left foot against the floor, then the right. He sat up slowly, closed his eyes, and took in a deep breathe. A few minutes passed before his gray eyes fluttered open, and he rose out of bed. 

What was he without Evan?  The thought echoed in his head.

"Guess it's time to found out," he murmured.