My Sunshine ✔

[ 32 ]

"Do you think I should work things out with my parents?"

"I mean... if you want to then yeah, but it's better if you stay away from them."

"I don't want to have a bad relationship with them, you know. They're my parents,"

"I'll support you, Sunshine. Whatever you do just remember I'm right by your side. Just remember that some people aren't worth your time." Narco flashed a reassuring and bright smile. Bitterness lingered in the anger in his voice.

Lewis nodded, sighing as he let the pen fall from his hand. "Do you think this paragraph is good?" He pushed the white paper towards Narco, who was sitting besides him.

"I don't know? You are the one who knows this stuff," Narco muttered and skimmed over the paper. His eyebrows creased in concentration, reading the small paragraph again.

Lewis held his breath as he watched Narco reading in horror.

"Holy— This is so good!" Narco's face lit up, looking at Lewis with wide eyes.

"Thanks...?" Lewis scratched his head, grabbing the pen and fiddling with it. "I mean I went to school for this so it better be good." He scoffed and chewed on his bottom lip. His heart melted at the reassurance, steadying itself into a normal pace. He never knew something so simple as sharing what he'd written could be so nerve wracking.

"I can't wait to read the book," Narco beamed as he handed the paper back to the anxious one.

"Really?" Lewis was shocked that anyone (including the editor) wanted to read his book. There were many errors and his writing was chopped up and he couldn't describe things properly and the characters did their own thing and the plot was horrendous.

"Sunshine, stop doubting yourself. You have to accept what you make and that's hard. Hell, I can't even do it myself. You gotta move past it and accept the flaws — embrace it, it's your creation." Narco smiled as he let his hands touch Lewis' face. The writer nodded along like a child, words dying in his throat, and winced when Narco pinched his cheeks. He coughed and tried to get rid of that trickle of doubt that would soon flood his thoughts.

Narco grabbed the pen, earning a glare from Lewis. He jotted a number down on the corner. Lewis was puzzled, confused, and slightly impressed by Narco's memorization skills.

"You're going to see a therapist. No buts."

"I think I have a right to privacy here, Narco." Lewis hissed as he grabbed his pen and continued, "And no, I don't have PTSD. So, you can get that look off your face."

"Never said you did. You can't even see what's right for you, you refuse to acknowledge the very thing that's eating away at you. Let me help you, please,"

"'Let me help you,' cry that sentence out loud, Narco, but you can't help me. I can't be helped! Do you not understand that?!"

"I won't just stand here and watch you tear yourself apart. I understand that you need time but you need to realize that you need help." Narco smiled through the pain that coursed through his heart. The realization that Lewis didn't trust him as much as he thought. Of course, how could he have forgotten. The thought of not being to hold Lewis again because he just stood there and watched while Lewis dragged himself through pain — it ate at him. Just another person to miss, just another stream of tears, just another unappeasable void in his heart.

"Lew, don't you trust me?"

"I d-do—" Narco narrowed his eyes at the stutter. The silence dragged on for minutes. Lewis finally sighed, brows twitching, lips frowning. "No,"

And with that single word, Narco's heart broke. How could he be around someone that didn't trust him? How could he stay with a person who didn't trust him? Where there is no trust, there is no love. Did Lewis even love him? He could feel the swarm of regret attacking his heart. He was foolish enough to fall in love with someone who didn't love him back.

Who was he to be so authoritative over someone? Maybe Lewis was pulling a sick prank and he was planning on adding something later. Maybe.

Narco's bitter laugh pierced through the thick, tense environment. "Then why did you let me do this, Lewis? Why?" He softly cried, holding back the blossoming tears.

"I trust you, Narco. But I don't. I can't exp—"

"Don't worry. You don't need to explain yourself." Narco said as he stood up.

Lewis' eyes widened as he looked at the tall figure that towered over him. "No—" He said and grabbed Narco's wrist to stop the man from leaving. "I didn't mean it like that, Narco. I'm sorry," Lewis tugged on the limp hand, begging Narco with eyes that were glossing over.

Narco pulled his hand away and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. He knew what Lewis meant. The fine line to trod, questioning if you do or not, never finding the answer until a gun was pointed and everything became clear. He was afraid the realization would come too late.

"I'll go to the therapy if you want."

"I don't want you to go for me. Fuck, this isn't about pleasing me. You should go for yourself." Narco looked away, his anger melting away at the look on Lewis' face. Fuck those beady, innocent, hurt eyes. Fuck him for falling for the stubborn, annoying, charismatic, lovable man.

"Fine," Lewis looked away, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to go. He didn't want the medications and the mountain of questions. He didn't want to be called weak, pathetic, helpless. "just need time."

Narco nodded, looking at Lewis with shimmering pride in his eyes. "You're perfect like this, Lewis. You don't need to change yourself to feel validated. I'm proud of how far you've come. You expressed your feelings and thoughts to me. You aren't so secretive anymore and I appreciate that. But, it's okay to be broken... just... you need to heal properly."

Lewis looked at Narco standing up again. "Just going to the kitchen." He chuckled and leaned down to press a loving kiss on pouting lips.