Cheating in Love [Completed]

Chapter 15

Sawyer was sitting in his bed staring blankly at a book. He skimmed pages and flipped through the chapters mindlessly. He checked his phone. Outside the window the rain was still pounding, rattling against the windows. It hadn't stopped in days.

The flat was warm , but the chill from outside seemed to seep into his bones. He had his jacket drawn over his shoulders and a blanket folded over his lap but it did nothing to help relieve his chills.

He heard the door slam in the other room and a bag hit the floor. Footsteps and Beckett showed up in the doorway. Beckett refused to make eye contact, staring at the floor and moving quickly through the room. Sawyer continued reading his book as Beckett made his way out to the living room.

Sawyer sat in his bed, legs crossed, hearing nothing from the other room. He shifted and scooted to the edge of the bed. The floor was cold against his bare feet.

He moved slowly to the door. Beckett was sitting on the floor against the couch, a half dozen papers spread in a circle around him. The soft lighting did his features justice. He buried his head in his hands.

Sawyer cleared his throat. Beckett looked up.

"Do you mind if I come sit out here?" Sawyer had his blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"Go ahead," Beckett shuffled his papers around to make space. They formed a protective shell around him. He was engrossed in his work, and even as Sawyer came closer Beckett didn't look up.

"I'm going to make some hot chocolate," Sawyer said.

"I thought you didn't like that," Beckett said without skipping a beat. He pulled out a highlighter and a couple colored pens. Sawyer tossed his blanket to the couch and moved to the kitchen.

Beckett grumbled to himself about formulas and concepts. Sawyer could see him making exaggerated faces at his work.

"So, how's school been going?" Sawyer poured hot water from the kettle. "I feel like we haven't talked recently."

"We haven't," Beckett ignored the other half of his comment.

Sawyer dumped in the last two packets of chocolate mix in the cups and stirred. The warmth from the cups mixed with the cold from the floor. He scooted back into the living room and set Beckett's cup down in front of him.

"Thanks," Beckett murmured, barely audibly.

Sawyer sat on the couch, watching over Beckett's shoulder as he did his homework. He shuffled to his room to grab his book before sitting back down on the couch.

"Hey, um, Beckett," Sawyer said.

"Hmm?"

"About the other day..."

"Don't worry about it," Beckett cut him off. "I shouldn't have said anything." He started to stack his papers back up and stuff them into his binder.

"Beckett, stop."

He stopped.

"Can you... sit here for a minute?"

Beckett let out a long, slow sigh. He scooted back against the couch, his hot chocolate mug sitting on the floor. Sawyer took a sip and took a moment to wrap the blanket around himself. He cleared his throat again.

"What did you want to talk about?" Beckett was staring at the floor. Sawyer watched him.

"Are you okay?" Sawyer asked. The only question he could get out. Beckett scooted lower. Sawyer moved to sit next to him on the floor.

"Yes," Beckett said.

"It doesn't seem like it," Sawyer said.

"What do you want me to say?" Beckett snapped. "You made it very clear what your opinion is. I'm not going to talk to you about how that makes me feel."

"I..."

Beckett shook his head. He scooted away and stalked to the room. Sawyer stayed where he was against the couch. He felt his frustration rising.

Beckett came back out with his shoes on, keys jingling in his hand. He stopped to put his binder into his bag. Beckett reached for the lock.

"Yes, I would," Sawyer said.

Beckett stopped with his hand on the lock.

"Would what?"

"Would... consider," Sawyer's voice cracked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Beckett unlocked the lock.

"I would go out with you," he said it so quickly that for a moment, he wasn't sure if he'd said it at all. Beckett slowly turned around. Sawyer didn't dare meet his eyes. He was aware that Beckett was staring at him but Sawyer couldn't look up.

"Would you really, though?" words that should have been hopeful were jaded and bitter. Sawyer could feel shame burning his eyes. He shuffled his feet.

"Yes," his response came at little more than a whisper.

"Then why couldn't you say that the other day?"

"Because I..." he trailed off. "I don't know."

Beckett let out a heavy sigh. He brought his hands up to cover his face.

"Beckett I... would you still give me a chance?" The pause that followed stretched for so long that Sawyer felt his heart slowly fall. He rolled the edge of the blanket to distract himself from the acute emotions.

Beckett hadn't moved. The hum of the heater filled in the silence. The nearly stifling heat of the flat still wasn't enough to make Sawyer comfortable.

"Yes," he said finally. "I would."

The ring of a cell phone pierced Sawyer's relief. Beckett clicked his phone open.

"Hey, what's up?" Sawyer strained but he couldn't hear what the person on the other end was saying.

"Wait... what? Are you serious?" The panic in his voice was growing. Sawyer watched as Beckett started to anxiously tap his fingers against the shoulder strap on his bag.

"You have to be kidding." He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. There was a quiver in his voice. He started to blink furiously. "What can I do? Is everyone else alright?"

Sawyer felt an anxiousness growing in the pit of his stomach. Beckett was pacing the floor, running his free hand through his hair.

"I can't believe it. I'll be there as soon as I can, alright? It's going to be okay." Beckett clicked the phone off. He looked at Sawyer, eyes full of panic and fear. He ran both his hands through his hair. His breath came out as a choked cry.

"Beckett... what's wrong?" Sawyer said quietly.

"I can't..." he said. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I have to go right now."