Teardrop Shot

by Tijan

“What’s your criteria for determining who you choose to be a fuck buddy?”

“You’re a little odd, aren’t you?” I snorted. “Fantastically so.”

“Have you ever been involved in a situation where you felt like the other person needed you so they could live?” I asked. “But you couldn’t stay there because they were taking the oxygen you needed to breathe?”

“That you’ve become like an annoying gnat that I like for some reason.” He raised an eyebrow. “How’s that for the truth?”

He paused another beat. “Tell me straight. You okay or not?” I had to smile. “Why? You worried about your gnat?” “Maybe I’m a little concerned for my friend.”

He stepped closer. I could feel him, and he spoke so softly that it broke the rest of me apart. “How long did you have to breathe for him? Before you got help?”

I crumbled. Reese caught me. He held me, righting me so I didn’t totally fall to the floor. He went with me, moving so we were sitting in a corner of the room, me between his legs. He folded his arms around me, and I broke apart, my sleeve stuffed in my mouth to quiet my tears.

“No little sister is truly annoying. They’re younger, and they just want to be loved.

“Sometimes the hardest part of having a disease, or having something happen to you, is acknowledging that it’s happening. Once you do, your life is never the same. You’re never normal again. Once you acknowledge it and ask for help, you’re never the same person again. You cease to be you, and you become the you with the problem. He’s no longer Damian. He’s Damian who has dementia. Pride can sustain a person for a long time before they have to break.”

this was different, because Reese didn’t need me to breathe for him. I just needed to sit alongside him. He could breathe on his own.

For that night, I was his. For that night, he would be mine.

“We’re so far past the friends-who-bone-who-can’t-bone-anyone-else, aren’t we?” “I think we have been since we started.” He watched me, steadily. “I think we were before we started.”

“Because I care too much. Because when you leave me, I won’t recover.” I willed myself to meet his eyes. “It took everything in me to leave Damian. I can’t—if you walked away from me, I’d never get back up again. You can destroy me.”

“You are truly insane.” I snorted. “That’s been established. Long ago. Keep up.”

When it was only the two of us, he said, so softly, “I do not scare. Stop using the crazy card on me, because it’s not working. I’ve seen crazy. Remember? You are hurting. You are sad. You are broken, but you are not crazy. You may feel that way at times, but you’re not. Trust me. So stop saying it.”

He stepped closer, within touching distance. His eyes were so fierce, shooting daggers at me. “Got it? You’re all about being exposed and shit—well, you’re not alone. I love you, and I have no idea what to do with this. I don’t say pretty words or make fucking declarations. I like you. I love you. I want to always be with you, and that’s that. Right? Isn’t that good enough?”

“You’re annoyed at how much you love me. That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said.”

“God.” He pressed a lingering kiss to my throat. “I really fucking love you.” “I really fucking love you too.”

“I’ve not touched anyone since you. I swear. You’ve ruined me. I’ve realized it’s either you or no one.”

“And if I hurt him? What then?” I called, stopping him. He didn’t even look at me, just reached for the handle and opened the door. “You won’t. I can tell you love him too.” Then he was gone, and I wanted to curse at the door. What a fuckhead, who I kinda liked now.

“Life with me is going to be hard. I’m the one with the baggage now. There’s going to be fan pressure, women, publicity. Life’s different at this stage, and I think, I really think, you’re my teardrop shot. You’re the high arch in my life. You’re beautiful inside and out, and you’re rare. So very rare.”