Chapter 6

The house was silent around me; the sound of everyone’s scurrying was gone. Church was tomorrow so everyone had fallen asleep early, except for me. Sunday mornings were always so sacred in my house. My room was small, crammed with my possessions that each held their own personal significance. Moonlight beamed through the window that sat behind my bed and my wet hair created a clammy sensation against the cotton pillow. I was uncomfortable, unable to welcome sleep.

 

Tap, tap.

 

Sharply I turned, a long shadow rested on my bed. It’s Asher, the familiar blonde hair is disheveled and his light brown eyes stared right at me. His lithe fingers trace the glass before drumming against the window once more. I can see how his breath comes out in harsh puffs and the winter season becomes so obvious. I open the window, careful of the scraping sound.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he collapsed into my arms and continued whispering his apologizes.

 

Finally he stopped and the room became a deathly kind of quiet. I wait for him to speak again, for I am speechless. “Please, let me stay over. I need you tonight, Zane; you’re the only one who knows.” His voice is soft and pleading. He begged for me, he needed me. I could only nod and agree. Asher had always escaped to my room, the window usually open to the lone visitor and he thinks it’s like any other night when he sneaks into my room. But it’s not, it’s different.

 

He stripped, his boxers decorated in plain stripes, and those limber legs slipped under my covers. I followed with a reluctance that neither of us recognized. He took notice of my unwillingness.

 

“Is it because I’m gay?”

 

A bitter laugh almost passed my lips as I thought of my answer. It was so ironic and the humor didn’t escape my demons. Their own cackles were heard from the back of my mind.

 

“No,” I stated with such certainty that he gave me a strange look for my directness. I lift the covers and he shifted to make room. There’s not much room but we’re used to it. I think, I guess.

 

“I’m sorry I yelled you earlier,” Asher’s gentle voice graced my ears, “I know you’re straight as an arrow and that David was just messing with you.”

 

I don’t say anything in response. I don’t think I could say anything. I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to tell him of my lies and sins. I didn’t want to hide in such a dishonest state, but I didn’t. The truth would hurt us all. Him, me, my family; our family.

 

“God, I hit him Zane,” his voice cracks. The guilt so blatantly paints his face and my own mind. “I didn’t mean to, but I�"“He pauses for a second, his voice too drawn with emotion to comprehend. My demons hiss that it’s my fault he’s in such pain. “I was just so angry at him and I didn’t know what to do. I feel so bad about it, Zane.”

 

I mumbled some words of comfort but he doesn’t really listen yet he thanks me. “I’m really am sorry about yelling at you earlier,” that’s Asher for you. He’s always got upset over the little things, always apologizing for mistakes he never committed. “Thanks for listening Zane.” He stopped speaking and we just laid there trying to survive through the night.

 

 

 

The persistent rays of the dawn struck me as I woke; I groaned and tried to turn but I was trapped. Asher’s heavy arm had sometime during the night wrapped itself around my side. I didn’t move and instead relished in the tight embrace. I was seventeen and so very much in love with him. Did I really want to move? No. I knew it was wrong, I knew that I was only digging a deeper grave as I inched closer to Asher and his warmth. I didn’t care of the consequences. His warmth was far too enticing.

 

The soft skin that adorned his face was such a blatant sign of our perfect youth, it felt like we would never grow old. I begin to note every little feature, memorizing the details of how his eyelashes were long and dark and that his face was pale and smooth. His hair was a subtle blonde, the kind of blonde that took you back to the fairytale princesses. It whirled around his head, he looked like an angel. He was an angel that had fallen into my bed, a sleeping beauty.

 

I brushed away some of his but he didn’t move. My eyes wandered to his lips, the soft succulent pink things struck a confidence that I did not know I possessed. I was compelled to kiss him and with that thought I was suddenly reminded of David, as much as I longed not to be thinking of that particular demon. It was then I finally knew that the demons of my soul had taken everything because I felt them pull my heartstrings like a puppet as I placed my cold lips on his. It wasn’t a kiss, I wouldn’t call it that. I meant it to be a simple peck, a brief connection between two souls.

 

Or it would’ve been a peck if Asher had not grabbed my shoulders, devouring the idea that it was a modest caress. While David’s kiss had been tart, the warring feelings inside of me had made sure of that, Asher’s kiss was like a jawbreaker. Sweet layers of sugar tumbled inside of my mouth, one after another and it felt as if I was a child again, experiencing everything for the first time. But like sugar, his kisses were a drug and I didn’t escape the addiction.

 

“David,” he moaned and my heart stopped. I pushed him away, shock reverberating through my body. What had I done? What had I let him do?

 

“Oh god, I usually wake up with David next to me and uh�"“He tried to explain, his reasoning jumbled with his actions. It was a mistake. My demons offered no answer, no advisement for they had been sated in their desires. They actually had received more than what they had asked for, those selfish b******s. Asher looked so lost but when we heard the noises of the kitchen returning to life, we both froze.

 

“It was a mistake Zane, I’m sorry.” Hurriedly, he pulled his clothes and tripped through the window. I was left on the bed, alone with the echoes of his words. ‘It was a mistake.’ My body shook; I would not cry. I could not cry but still the pain stabbed at my heart, the abused organ. I knew that my love for him was a mistake; I knew that it was a sin and that sinning was bad, wrong. I knew that I was in the middle of a mistake I couldn’t fix.