Delicate

Chapter 21

William's P.O.V

Doubt.

It's a feeling that moves quieter than all the others. You don't notice the way it nurses itself to grow better, don't notice how innocent pieces of information feed it. You don't notice it until it's pricking at your skin during your happiest moments. Things that once seemed perfectly fine suddenly appearing like a disguised form of deception.

Then it's too late to get rid of it because it's already there and you can't fight it off. Because doubt isn't tangible, you can't fight it because it's not facts. It's just doubt and it's not crazy, it makes sense the things, or the people in my case, you begin to question.

I started to harvest layers of doubt for the one person that didn't deserve it.

Turns out doubt is pals with fear, should've guessed that one. They shared information to build a case in aims of pushing me to destroy the man who made me smile. Because of course, they wouldn't do it themselves, doubt and fear were cowardice after all.

It started when Damon told me wanted to take things slow. It surprised me, but not because I didn't agree with it, but because it showed me just how far I was willing to go with him already. If Damon hadn't put a stop to things, I don't think I would've told him no to anything. His words punctured my effervescent state of grace that I'd let myself slipped into with him, a rude awakening from the dream never of us let end.

But I was awake now and I was scared.

Scared of how easily I unraveled within Damon's grasp, scared of how much I let myself trust him, how much I let myself forget... I was scared of me, not him. Because I was the one who let him in, who all but dove into the first spec of kindness he shared with me, so desperate for it that I couldn't think straight.

Didn't think about how much time I let myself spend with him, didn't consider the way I'd let our lives get intertwined or how much lonelier the darkness would be if I returned to it. If he changed his mind and left me out in the cold as he did.

Don't fucking touch me, faggot!

I wince at the harsh tone my memories forced in front of me, a cruel reminder of what was in store for me if Damon turned out to not be who I thought he was, who I wanted to believe he was. It'd be harder getting back up the second time that it was the first time.

I didn't want to go through that again.

So that left me with two choices, pull away before it was too late or keep placing my trust in him.

I knew what waited for me if I let Damon go, I'd be alone again in a world I couldn't connect to with my blurred perception of it. A vision that left me distrusting, left me vulnerable and weak. I'd have to stay on my own, void of any of Damon's affections that fueled me as my blood should and without his light, one that lit up the darkness for miles.

If I kept trusting him, he could let me down even though he hadn't yet. But no one ever lets anyone down, until they do. There's always a first time for something and I knew from experience that mine had a habit of leaving me more broken than I had been in the beginning.

 So, I was left at a standstill. Facing two possible paths without having a clue which one would leave me the least torn at the end of it because they'd both hurt. 

"You're quiet." Damon voices suddenly, drawing me from my negative thoughts.

I look down to find him looking up at me worriedly, my hand that'd been petting him stilled. I start back running my hands through his hair, offering him a gentle smile that calmed him a little.