Burn Before Reading(82)

“But he didn’t feel the same way. When I told him, he –” Wolf’s broad shoulders began to tremble, so minutely I barely caught it. “ - he changed. Completely. He taunted me about it. He beat me up about it. He said he’d tell the whole school I was a –”

I flinched, Mark’s nasty slur from that day at the pool echoing in my memories. Wolf cleared his throat.

“He held it over me. He used it to manipulate me into doing whatever he wanted. And the worst part was I never felt like taking it back. I still loved him, no matter how hard he hit, or how much he yelled. No matter how bad it got, I kept thinking I could change him, back to the way he was. That if I just took it, agreed with him, let him do what he wanted, he’d change back into the person I fell for at the beginning. I was so blind. At my lowest, every time he’d get done beating the shit out of me I’d think to myself ‘good, maybe now he’ll relax and calm down’. That’s how bad it was.”

“Wolf –“

“And then,” Wolf spun the ring even faster. “And then I got sick of it. All at once, I realized nothing was going to change. He was going to keep being that way, and there was no amount of punches I could take before he’d turn back. And he realized that I’d figured it out, that his hold on me was weakening, so he started saying he’d kill himself. That if I left him, he’d kill himself and his death would be my fault.”

My chest constricted so tightly it was hard to breathe.

“And I stayed awake every night after that,” Wolf gritted his teeth. “Lying in bed, wondering if he was slicing his arm open at that very moment. Every second I was away from him was a second he was killing himself. I couldn’t sleep. I stopped eating.”

“Did Fitz, or Burn –“

“They couldn’t do anything. I wouldn’t let them,” He said quickly. “I was afraid if anyone else interfered, it would set Mark off and he’d die because of me.”

The hurt in my chest moved to my heart. “And then you…punched him.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Wolf said, green eyes suddenly distant, and he stopped spinning his ring. “I don’t remember it at all, and that’s the scariest part. I just remember going to school that morning, tired, so, so tired, and then he said something, and everything after that is a black hole where memories should be.” He looked down at the sheets, studying the threads like his life depended on it. “The next thing I remember, I was in the principal’s office. And I never saw Mark again. Until the semi-finals.”

“I’m….so sorry, Wolf.”

“It’s fine. It’s over. That’s all that matters.”

“No, that’s not!” I sat up straighter. “It’s a huge step that you’re telling someone. Me.”

“It’s just words,” he muttered.

“It’s a really positive indicator,” I assured him. “It means you’ve had enough time between the event and the present to start forming a retrospective viewpoint.”

“And that’s supposed to be good?” He snarled.

“It’s better than reliving the past, and the pain.”

Wolf was quiet. The air seemed heavy, like it was trying to suffocate the both of us. I had to do something. So I reached my arms out.

“C’mon.”

Wolf glared. “What?”

“C’mon. Give me a hug.”

“I thought you said you weren’t giving those out to me, anymore.”

“I can make an exception this once.”

Wolf sat on the bed, warily, looking every bit like the creature of his nicknamesake. He muttered something, but it was too low to hear.

“What?” I asked.

“I said,” He cleared his throat. “Is it – is it alright if I…no, shit, that’s going to sound stupid, or creepy. Or both.”

“What is it? Don’t leave me hanging.”

The faintest redness crept up on his high cheekbones. “Would it be alright…if I put my head on your lap?”

I almost laughed at how adorable he looked, but then realized that’d be a shitty thing to hear from someone you asked something so personal of. I nodded, instead.

“Sure. If you don’t mind damp clothes.”

I flattened out my legs, and he laid down on the bed on his side, easing his head onto my lap. It was awkward for a moment, until my hands - itching for something to do - found his hair. Slowly, I pet his head.

“Is this okay?” I asked. A contented ‘hm’ noise was all I got from him. I kept my strokes slow and gentle. His hair was so beautiful – the color of a raven’s feather, and just as soft. The shaking in his shoulders slowly receded, until he was completely still, only his breathing moving his chest up and down.

“Thank you, Wolf.”

“For what?” He asked.

“Telling me about Mark.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “It felt like the right time. To tell somebody.”

“Oh, so I’m not special.”

“I never said that. There you go, inferring things again.”

I laughed. “I was kidding.”

“Your humor sucks.”