The scratchy material of the couch didn't allow much sleep, and neither did the sharp headache I had. I tossed and turned until I couldn't stand it.

"Connor? You asleep?" I padded over to the bed, crawled under the sheets, and collapsed into the pillows, watching the rise and fall of Connor's chest.

"Mmm," he startled. "Jude? I love you."

I snaked my fingers through his, silently forgiving him. No apology needed.

I woke up in a cold, desolated bed, hours later. Where the hell am I? My eyes searched about the room, trying to find some sort of familiarity. On the bedside table was a glass of water, three Ibuprofens, and a note.

Hurriedly, I gulped down the water, quenching my undying thirst, and swallowed the pills, seeking relief for my cramping body. Hangovers were always the worst.

The note read:

Went for a run.

Trying to clear my mind.

Be back soon.

-Connor

Nearly the second I finished reading, the door swung open, a sweaty Connor perched there.

"Good morning sleepy head."

"Hi," I managed to say.

"Feeling any better?"

"Not really."

"Well then. Why don't we go eat breakfast?" Connor smiled.

"Where are we?"

"My father's cabin. At the lake. There's no food here, so we'll have to drive a ways to the diner."

"Why are we here?"

"We just needed a place to talk. Away from the rest of the world. Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?" I didn't want him to say it. I wanted to pretend that last night was just another bad dream. That Ethan wasn't real. That I hadn't enjoyed screwing someone else. That Connor didn't know. That we hadn't argued. That I'd never even gotten drunk.

"You made a mistake," he uttered. "So we came out here, to fix it." He sounded like all sorts of broken. Like hell had captured his soul and dragged it to the underworld. "But come on, let's go get breakfast. I bet you're starving."

"Connor. I don't care about breakfast. I care about you. Are you okay?"

He made his way to the kitchen, turning his back on me. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Connor."

"What do you want me to say? 'No Jude. I'm not okay. I'm suffering. My boyfriend cheated on me. I'm tired of living. I'm constantly sad for no reason. I want to go home.' Is that what you want?"

"Babe. You don't mean most of that."

"Yes I do!" he shrieked at me, slamming his fist down on the counter.

"You don't have to get so worked up! You chose this life! You chose to date me, knowing exactly the kind of person I am. You chose to live with Jordan instead of staying at home-"

"Don't you fucking tell me what I did! Most of the things I've done were for you. So that I could be with you! And you're an ungrateful little bitch!"

"Shut your mouth, Connor. You don't dare talk to me like that again." I stomped into the kitchen, grabbed his shoulders, and spun him so that he was facing me. I'd never seen such rage in his eyes. They were beyond intense, fire nipping at his dilated pupils.

"What are you going to do to me? Little bitch." His left hand jerked at the collar of my shirt, balling it up, and making a fist around the fabric.

"You're just like him," I retorted.

Connor's face scrunched up, his features without one last trace of solace. Eyebrows practically knotted together. "Like who?"

"You're father."

His reaction was as expected. I crossed a line. A line that internally stabbed him. Allowed me to twist a knife in his heart. He threw a punch with his free hand. Knuckles slamming into my mouth. Fuck it hurt. Teeth grinding into each other. Lips smacking against bone structure.

I trampled backwards, sinking to the floor, out of Connor's grasp. My hand found my lips, blood trickling down my chin. I wiped at it, holding back tears, holding back words, emotions.

Connor didn't move. Just stared. Stared at the mess he had created. He was a monster. A fucking, Goddamn monster.

After a minute or so, reality must've hit him.

"Jude! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen! I'm sorry!" He knelt down, assessing the damage, reaching out for me. I quickly shunned away, flinching at the mere thought of him touching me.

"Take me home!" I wailed. Connor was panicked. Frightened. But that didn't change what he had done.

"I'm sorry! Jude, I'm not him. I'm not my father. I couldn't think straight. I'm sorry," his voice trailed off, tears slipping from his eyes.

"Take me home."

"Jude-"

"Now." I pulled myself up, walked to the door, and gave Connor a slight glare. After slamming the door behind me, I felt something inside of me shatter. Give out. My heart was breaking.

I don't know how many times Connor apologized on the ride home. Maybe a bazillion. Not enough though. I remained silent. Not giving him the satisfaction of an answer. He didn't deserve my words. He was unworthy of what I had to say.

Looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror was devastating. My lips were ruined. They were swollen and ugly. Two splits sliced into my bottom lip; divots that would take too much time to heal.

Returning to my bedroom, I flipped off the lights, cranked up the stereo, and flopped down on the bed. Pulling out my pack of cigarettes, I lit the last one and faded into the music.

...

My phone vibrated, light flooding across the comforter .

Connor:

Jude, I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

I love you.

This can't be the end.

I didn't reply, at least not to Connor. But I did send a text back to the foreign number that had messaged me this morning.

An hour passed by the time I had the response I needed. Ethan at my front door. A hurricane of alluring beauty. My own personal brand of morphine.

"Who the fuck did that to your face?" he blurted when I let him inside.

"Connor."

"Why'd he ruin such a pretty, pretty face?" His whisper sent shivers down my spine, daunting shivers that could've made me drop to my knees. "Was it because of me?" Ethan brushed his fingers against my lips, indulging in the soft moan I let out. "Poor baby. Let's make it all better."

I led him up the stairs, praying to whoever controlled the universe to not let moms come home anytime soon. We stopped short of my bed, Ethan examining the room, then focusing on me, giving me his undivided attention.

He linked his arms over my neck, beckoning me to place my hands upon his dainty hips. Slowly, his lips met mine, a jolt of agony washing over me when he applied more pressure.

"Did that hurt?" he muttered under his breath, lowering his mouth to my neck. He eased me out of my shirt before I shoved him onto the bed, straddling him strategically.

"No," I breathed out.

My senses started to vanish. All that I had left was touch, taste, and hearing. I touched him in the ways I knew would give him pleasure. Delicate fingers tracing over dips and curves of skin. I tasted his salty skin, licking at his throat, forcing him to whimper. Our sounds were muffled by the music; a trance that set the pace, set our bodies' rhythms.

"I don't like them innocent

I don't want no face fresh

Want them wearing leather

Begging, let me be your taste test

I like the sad eyes, bad guys

Mouth full of white lies

Kiss me in the corridor

But quick to tell me goodbye"

Ethan's hands glided into my jeans, pushing them down off my hips. He bit his lip when our eyes connected, seducing me to tug his shirt off.

He pulled me closer, smashing his mouth into mine, tongue desperately lapping at my lips. I parted them, granting him access, tangling my fingers into his hair.

"You're a Rolling Stone boy

Never sleep alone boy

Got a million numbers

And they're filling up your phone, boy

I'm off the deep end, sleeping

All night through the weekend

Saying that I love him but

I know I'm gonna leave him"

...

We went for a couple of rounds, finishing with a bit of steamy shower sex, and exhausting each other to a breaking point.

"I'm not ready to go," he sighed, towel drying his hair.

"I'm too tired to go at it again."

Ethan burst into laughter. "God Jude, I'm not just using you for sex. You're ridiculous."

"I know," I smirked at him.

"I wanna hang out. With you. No sex needed."

"Okay."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, observing me while I dressed. "You really love him, don't you?"

"I don't know."

"You do. I can tell."

"How? I just fucked you, not him."

"I can see it in your eyes. All broken because your boyfriend hit you."

"I never said that he hit me."

"But he did. And he doesn't deserve you. Not if he's going to treat you like that."

"I k-know," I stuttered.

"Is he worth the pain?"

I nodded, drawing in a breath to keep from crying.

"Then tell him. Forgive him."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I have to move on." I flopped down on the bed, burying my face into a pillow.

"Jude, you can't just 'move on' from a love like that. Connor loves you. As much, if not more than you love him."

"He's joining the Army. We won't even have much time together before he leaves." When I spoke those words, I realized that deep down, the idea of Connor going to war, strained me entirely.

"You can't ditch Connor because of what he wants to do with his life. That's not fair to him." Ethan laid next to me, resting his hand on my back. I sobbed, body trembling underneath his touch. "Jude, I'm sorry. It sucks. I know. But it'll be okay. Don't cry. Please."

...

"Jude? Hello?" Connor was on the other end of the phone. It had been four days. His calls and texts were endless. Voicemails full of apologies and 'I love you's'. Quick messages transformed into lengthy essays. I couldn't keep ignoring him, he made it way too difficult to do so. I had initiated the call, presumably ready to forgive him.

But I wasn't prepared to talk.

"Hello? I know you're there, Jude."

I remained noiseless.

"I can hear you breathing." He paused, listening for any signs of intelligible speech. "You don't have to speak. I understand. I am coming over though. Be there soon." Great. Just what I needed. Connor here, prodding me to give him some answers.

Callie popped into my room just as I was hanging up the phone.

"Hey bud, how are you doing?"

I shrugged my shoulders at her. Callie was used to my phases. The phases where I went mute. The ones that dragged out for unknown periods of time. I couldn't help it. It happened.

"Well, I've gotta get back to campus today. It's a long drive so I'm about to leave. I'll miss you Jude, stay out of trouble. And enjoy your senior year, okay?" She grinned at me and then tackled me with a tight hug. "Love you, little brother."

The doorbell rang twice as soon as we parted, signaling that a very anxious Connor had arrived.

"Who's that?" Callie asked.

I mouthed back, "Connor."

She ran to answer the door, saving me the hassle of doing it myself.

"Hey Connor!" I heard her exclaim. "He's upstairs, you can go on up." Then her voice dropped to an almost inaudible pitch, "Fair warning, he's not talking right now, so don't pressure him about it."

"Thanks Callie," Connor said. Yeah. Thanks Callie.

"Jude! I'm leaving! See you in a few weeks!" Callie shouted from downstairs.

Within seconds, Connor was up the stairs, and nearly 10 feet away from me. Flowers in one hand and a stuffed puppy in the other. I flashed him a shy smile, inviting him closer.

"Hey," he started, "I'm really sorry. About everything." He stepped over to the dresser and laid down the gifts. "I've been a really awful boyfriend. But, I love you, Jude. So, so much."

Connor sat on the bed next to me, gazing at my hands. I extended one to him, coaxing him to take it. He immediately did. Intertwining our fingers, and caressing my thumb with his.

"I love you," he mumbled before bringing his lips to mine. I cupped my free hand around his cheek, pressing into the kiss. Desire submerging me. Tension draining. Passion surfacing.

Connor broke away, giving me hungry eyes. Eyes that scanned my body, processing each fragment. He bolted up, and switched on the radio, finding a decently slow song.

"Would you bleed for me?

Lick it off my lips, like you needed me?

Would you sit me on a couch?

With your fingers in my mouth?

You look so cool when you're reading me"

After yanking his shirt over his head, he gently pushed me onto my back, clambering on to me, elbows on either side of me. He placed a light kiss on my forehead, working his way back to my lips. A rough hand slid under my shirt, roaming across my ribs, then carefully rubbing at my side.

"But I've got my mind, made up this time

Cause there's a menace in my bed

Can you see his silhouette?

Can you see his silhouette?

Can you see his silhouette?"

Connor lifted up my shirt, trying to tug it off while asking, "Can I?"

I nodded, stifling a snicker at his hilarious attempt to get me out of my clothes.

"Jude? I mean, can I make love to you?" he susurrated. I locked my eyes on his, letting a few moments pass by.

"Would you lie for me?

Cross your sorry heart and hope to die for me?

Would you pin me to a wall?

Would you beg or would you crawl?

Stick a needle in your hungry eyes for me?"

I kissed the corner of his mouth, a response that fell along the lines of yes.

"Let's cause a little trouble

Oh, you make me feel so weak

I bet you kiss your knuckles

Right before they touch my cheek"