Chapter Seventeen #2
“Lulu…”
“It’s what your book is about, isn’t it?” Lulu’s voice suddenly sobered, morphing into a soft whisper. “That’s what it means, isn’t it? ‘the loneliest hour.’”
“Yes,” Xavi rasped. He could’ve lied, of course, but somehow that would feel like a betrayal at this point, not only to Lulu but to himself, too.
“Tell me,” Lulu breathed, moving closer. “Please. What’s the loneliest hour?”
“It’s… It’s right after you go home with him instead of me.” There. He’d said it. Now it was out there for Lulu to do with what he wanted.
“Him?”
“Him. Everyone. It doesn’t matter. Anyone who isn’t me.” The truth sounded so simple, pathetic almost. That was Xavi’s truth in a nutshell. Anyone who wasn’t him.
“I only go home with them because you never ask me to come home with you. Because you won’t ever ask me.” Lulu sounded so sad, like it was a truth he’d carried around with him like a burden for way too long. How could he have been so blind, so clueless?
“I never knew you wanted me to.”
“I’ve always wanted you to, oso.”
“So if I asked you now, would you come?”
“I’d come.”
Xavi nodded, the words settling inside him. He didn’t believe him. No, that wasn’t it. He couldn’t allow himself to believe them. Lulu must’ve realized it, too, because he continued, “And still you won’t, will you, Xavi? And you never will.”
“Because I’m fucking broken, okay?!” The words came out way harsher than Xavi had intended, but Lulu didn’t waver, not one bit.
Before Xavi could say what he really wanted to say, that he not only felt broken but unworthy too, and that he was the one who should’ve died that night and not his wonderfully vibrant and strong father, Lulu was right up in his face again.
“Then do something about it! Don’t just go through life like this.” His voice tilted, then turned tender, hurt. “Please, oso. If not for yourself, then for me. It’s hard to love a man who thinks he’s unlovable.”
Xavi sucked in a breath, but there was no air.
None at all. Love. Stumbling blindly toward the bed, Xavi only just made it before something slammed against his chest, like a massive wave.
No, not like a wave. Like a solid brick wall.
It felt like he’d been hit by a brick wall, and that he was now searching for cracks in the bricks to breathe through.
But it was solid, impenetrable, and Xavi’s lungs clenched around nothing.
Squeezing his T-shirt, he first rubbed at his chest, then pounded it with his fist. Then Lulu was right next to him, his lips moving rapidly, his eyes brimming with concern.
The room zeroed in on Xavi as he struggled for that one breath of air that kept eluding him.
Lulu braced his hands on Xavi’s shoulders, shaking him carefully, and Xavi felt his words rather than heard them as they hit him like puffs of air.
“Breathe, Xavi. Breathe for me, mano.” Xavi shook his head. The world was suddenly too big, too loud, a wild rush in his ears, his heart pounding in his throat.
“I can’t,” he croaked, and it really did feel like he couldn’t. It felt like he was falling, crashing, dying. Then Lulu’s hands were framing his face, his thumbs brushing along Xavi’s jawline, and all Xavi could think about was focusing on the feel of Lulu stroking him. Just focus on Lulu.
“You can,” Lulu assured him. “You just think you can’t. But you can. I’m here. I’m always here. Now, breathe for me, oso.”
Nodding through a wave of nausea and what felt like thousands of sharp needles digging into his heart all at once, Xavi breathed through his nose, shallow inhales at first, his lungs still working against him. “Don’t go,” he begged.
“Never.” Lulu leaned in and rested his forehead against Xavi’s, his one hand remaining cradled around Xavi’s jaw while the other slid to Xavi’s chest, where he placed it on top of Xavi’s hand, which was still clutching his T-shirt like it was the last straw in the world.
“Lulu.”
“I’m here. Don’t worry. Just breathe, mano. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
He wasn’t. Lulu’s words had hit something he’d buried deep inside. He hadn’t been okay since that night when the flames took everything from him.
“I’m not,” he rasped. “I’m not okay, cisne.” His eyes burned along with his throat, and before he knew it, fat tears spilled from his eyes and ran down his cheeks.
“But you will be. Te prometo. You will be.”
I promise you. As much as Xavi knew it was beyond Lulu’s control, and that Lulu couldn’t promise him that, there was a strange comfort to his words.
Because they meant Xavi wasn’t alone in this feeling anymore.
Lulu was right there with him. Perhaps he had been all along, but Xavi hadn’t been ready to let Lulu see him. See all of him.
“I felt it, too,” he admitted, and air blasted through his lungs, and while the fear was still there, lingering in the background, it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been mere seconds ago. It no longer felt like he was dying. “It felt real. I felt real,” he cried.
Lulu nodded, then wrapped his arms around him, cradling him against his neck.
“You are. You are real. And you are not broken. You’re not. You’re mine, Xavi, and I’ll fucking tell you every day if I have to. If you ever feel broken, I’m here. I’ll put you back together piece by piece myself if it’s the last thing I do. Until you feel whole again. Te prometo.”
And when Lulu held him like this, protecting him not only from the world but from the voices inside his head, too, from all his ghosts, then Xavi wanted nothing more than to believe him.
And something told him he should. That if he didn’t, he’d come to regret it more than anything.
So as the words moved through him, pushing toward the surface like an unstoppable force, Xavi decided to give in. To just give in.
“I believe you,” he whispered against Lulu’s neck, and Lulu answered with a sigh.