The rest of the day was a blur.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I was in a daze. The entire day passed by with me just going through the motions. I felt the darkness begin to claw out from inside me, trying to break free—and it did.

Soon as office hours ended, I fled the scene like a bat out of hell. I barely remembered Dan and Farid’s expressions as I ran to the elevator and left the building without saying a word. One face was a mixture of concern and confusion, the other was impassive, with maybe the shine of hurt in his eyes.

I hurt him. I was lower than a piece of shit at this point.

I didn’t know if it was real, but what I did know was that I felt lower than low and I needed to find that quick fix…and that was why, even though I was still recovering, I found myself at the club once more. I hadn’t even realized that I had been walking around the city on autopilot, hours passing me by.

I hadn’t checked my phone. My feet were killing me, but I didn’t care. At one point, I remember buying a hotdog from a street vendor and eating it on a park bench. My phone rang a couple of times, but none of that truly mattered. It was like I was watching myself from above while my body went on autopilot. As soon as I arrived in front of the club, everything else melted away.

The bouncer was the man from the other night. He gave me a little nod after slowly giving me a once-over, his face more guarded than it was previously. He probably knew what had happened to me, and if not, the expression on my face must have clued him in to keep whatever he was thinking to himself.

The steady, rhythmic beat of the music was somehow calming. It felt comforting, like I was at home. I could see the bodies writhing on the dance floor, people moving in unison with their baser urges and desires.

That deep, hungry void inside me was happy to be here. For the first time this entire day, I felt at peace. It was almost like taking a hit of the best weed and letting my mind settle in the calming fog. In the midst of the dance floor, I blossomed and let all my stress out. When I finally opened my eyes and really saw where I was for the first time that entire day, my gaze met with a man’s.

It clicked in my head. It was the same man who had beaten me senseless, and here he was, fucking me with my eyes.

Ironic—and a little fucked up—but for some reason, it felt apt that he was the one here, undressing me with the sheer intensity of his gaze.

He gave me the once-over, and I did the same to him in return. His eyes raked over my body and I saw the telltale glimmer of attraction and appreciation there. The only time his eyes dimmed was when he saw my cast, but it seemed he either decided not to care, or that it didn’t bother him at all.

I looked at every inch of him, scrutinizing him from top to bottom. He was definitely attractive, with a body that pressed against his shirt in all the best ways. The first two buttons were unbuttoned and even in the light of the club I could see the cut of his pectoral muscles. I was slightly disappointed at the lack of a trail of hair there, immediately comparing him to Farid.

Farid. As soon as that name crossed my mind, the void inside me clutched at my insides even harder. I pushed my thoughts of him away, as far away into the back of my mind as possible.

When our gazes finally met again, he nodded over to the bathroom nearby. I raised my eyebrow, but turned to look away, and gave the slightest nod. I didn’t smile or acknowledge him in any other way but that. Everything was subtle—no words really needed to be said between us.

Just as that pit in my stomach had settled, consuming all rational thought, this teeny tiny voice in my head began to ask questions. Did I really want to go through with this? Did my fear of things becoming serious make me want to fuck this random stranger, and possibly get myself in the same situation as before?

Did I want to fuck somebody who had done me bodily harm?

I gulped and took a deep breath. The calm that had come over me had immediately dissipated, and I knew I had to get out of there quick. I ran out of the club, as far away from there as possible. I didn’t even entertain the idea of talking to the man in the bathroom, knowing I might get myself in trouble again.

Instead, I ran to my apartment. My feet were so sore by then I probably had blisters. But I didn’t care. Images flashed through my head of the man from the attack, in his tank top and jacket, and then again earlier at the club. There were images of Dan, and Theo, who were my closest friends. I saw images of men I’d had sex with in the past. I could hear my mother and father in my head, telling me to get the makeup off my face and to act like a man. I could see a gallery of my exes’ faces, all of them full of pity, looking down at me.

“Are you all right, young man?” an old woman’s voice rang out from beside me.

Surprised, I turned to look at her, and I shakily nodded.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding distant, even to me.

She stood there, careful to place the lightest touch on my shoulder. Her face was furrowed in concern. I blinked—maybe faster than I should have—and took a deep breath. Funny how it took a stranger to snap me out of my trance.

She gave me a nod in response and walked on her way. I stood there, dumbstruck for a moment. My hands were quivering. I took a deep breath and collected myself.

Calm down, Noah.

I walked the rest of the way back to the apartment and fell to the couch.

It was quiet. I could hear the sound of Theo’s computer whirring and making noises as he played his video games. Shakily, I lifted my phone up to see the multitude of messages and calls that had accumulated.

I smiled very weakly and gripped my phone tighter.

I knew I needed to make this right. And even if there was still that voice inside me telling me to leave him alone, that I would never be the person he would choose at the end of the day, that I was broken beyond belief… Deep down, I knew I had to do something. If nothing else, I needed to believe that I, Noah Linkletter, was at least decent enough—and raised well enough, in spite of how terrible my upbringing was—to talk to Farid again and at least apologize for being a goddamn mess.

I swiped the screen and pressed the green call button beside the name of the one person I knew I needed to talk to.

It didn’t even take two rings for him to answer, and I had to stifle a sob of relief that threatened when I heard his voice.

“Noah.”

It sounded low and powerful as always, but there was a harder edge to his tone than usual. Usually, when he said my name, I could almost hear the reverence and affection in both syllables. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Now, though, it was brusque and clipped.

“Farid,” I said softly, my voice shaky. I was a hair’s breadth away from tears, and I knew it. That familiar heat was building behind my eyes and my lips were quivering as I spoke. “I-I’m sorry. I almost did something stupid tonight.”

There was silence from the other end of the line, almost deafening in its intensity. I had to stop myself from just laughing it off and ending the call right then and there. It took a moment for him to finally speak.

“Where are you?” His voice had thawed slightly.

“Back at my apartment,” I answered.

“I’ll be right there.”

Click.

It was interesting, because it didn’t seem to be more than five minutes for a knock to come from the door.

“Noah, it’s me,” Farid said. “Please open the door.”

I drifted over to the door slowly and opened it, completely in a daze, and Farid stood there.

I could almost see the worry on his face. Maybe he had been trying to school his features. His eyes were a little watery, and he looked…well, stressed out. Maybe more than me.

Maybe he was completely mad at me, but the moment our eyes met and he saw me standing there, breathing harshly and trying to keep myself from crying, whatever coldness was on his face melted away. Farid immediately pushed past the threshold and wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

Honestly, I never knew I could be held on to as tightly as he held me in that moment. His body was so solid and warm, and I didn’t know I needed this kind of affection until I was in his embrace, my face pressed against his chest.

The scent of his cologne was woodsy, a light musk that was hidden underneath notes of clean, crisp masculinity. I could feel his heartbeat thundering, hammering against my ear.

My lips quivered and I fought the urge to cry, but felt some wetness spill out and begin to cascade down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I whispered against him.

Farid continued to hold me close. His fingers twined into my hair in slow, gentle strokes, and he hushed me softly. When I finally pulled away from him, he leaned down to press a soft kiss against my lips.

His tongue swiped against the seam of my mouth, demanding entrance that I was all too happy to provide. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I felt myself submitting to the suddenness of his embrace. I gently rubbed my tongue against the underside of his—a submissive gesture—and moaned softly when I felt his other arm draw me in closer. I felt the turgid length of his cock slowly come to life behind his denim jeans, pressed up against my stomach.

I’d never felt so wanted in my entire life.

When he finally pulled away, there was something there in the depths of his eyes—some emotion I couldn’t quite fathom. He laced his fingers with mine and drew me toward the couch. When he sat down, he pulled me onto his lap, holding me close. It was there that I realized just how different we were. I was lithe and slender and borderline feminine with the curves of my body. I was quite androgynous, especially from behind. But Farid Hassan was all strength and muscle, masculinity barely kept in check when he held tightly onto me.

“Talk to me,” Farid said. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Noah.”

I looked at him and tried to speak. I held onto him tighter, and the only thing he did was gently stroke his fingers up and down my back. He even moved his fingers underneath my shirt, to stroke my flesh ever so softly. It was distracting—but just the right amount of distracting. I had to focus, and the sensation helped keep my thoughts aligned.

“I almost did something stupid tonight,” I repeated. “I went back to the club.”

Farid’s touch stalled for a moment, his muscles tensing. He took a deep breath but continued to slide his fingers up and down as if telling me to go on. So I did.

“I was so freaked out yesterday. Theo said something that made all these feelings erupt inside me. He called you my boyfriend, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Do you not want to be in a relationship?” Farid asked. “Do you not want to be with me?”

“It’s not that. It’s neither of those things,” I replied. “I just…I’m the lemon, you know? I told you this before. I’m the one you’re stuck with. The bad situation you have to make a good one come from. I’m the one you need to just deal with.”

Farid continued to look into my eyes, and the feeling of having his complete attention made me look away. He was so intense, so giving of his all, that I didn’t know how to handle it.

I continued. “I didn’t want to be a burden. The thought of being the cause of your unhappiness in the future, knowing how fucked up I am…it made me panic. I’m broken, Farid. I like you so much, and I knew that if I had stayed, you’d suffer. I’m broken because the first thing I did when I panicked was go back to the club. And I saw him there, the man who beat me. And he wanted to have sex with me. And for a moment, I considered it. That’s how fucked up I am.”

Farid, yet again, took another deep breath, but he continued to look at me. Every so often, I met his gaze. After a moment of total silence, I could feel whatever small amount of strength I had begin to break.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Noah,” Farid started to speak, although he held me close to him. “I don’t completely understand what you’re going through. But I’m an adult man, and I can make decisions for myself about the partner I want. I just want us both to be honest. I asked you for a chance, and I can see how much you want it, too, so I’m not giving up on you.”

I nodded. I took a deep breath, calming myself, and rubbing a tear from my cheek. “But…?” I tried to chime in, helpfully.

Farid tilted his head until our foreheads were touching and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. “I need you to talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. Let me comfort you when you need someone. I told you before, didn’t I? I knew you would require nothing else but stable. And I’m that. I want to be here. I want you. I want this to work out between us.”

“I do, too,” I answered quickly. It was the truth. I could feel it deep inside myself—something I’d only ever felt with a few other people. The emotional gates that I kept locked tight inched open slowly, just a little bit.

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I feel a little discouraged,” Farid added, and I felt my insides swoop. “But going into this, I knew the kind of person you would need. And I knew you were exactly what I needed, too. I saw the glimmer of light underneath all the darkness you keep wrapped around yourself, and I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be mine.”

“Why would you ever need a nutjob like me?” I asked.

Farid smiled. “You see yourself so poorly,” he said. “I can see the potential in you. I’m a caretaker. I like to take care of people, and I want to take care of you. There’s no logic, no rhyme or reason that’ll make sense to someone trying to think things through. I just want you, and all that entails. That’s all.”

“I know you think you’re broken,” Farid added. “I’m not sure I agree with that term, but even if I did, I can see the kind of person you are, beyond your insecurities and anxieties, when you put on your makeup and you smile at me with all the confidence in the world. I can see your kindness in the little ways you think about the people you care about, like the fact that you’re always worried about what Theo’s eating or when you make sure you still stop by at the office to lighten the load on Dan and your team. I can see the real you, and I want you to know that I’ll be here while you find your way back to feeling that way.”

I felt that familiar warmth hit me again like it had never left. The darkness inside me sputtered, trying to grab on, but for the first time ever, I actually felt like I had some strength left inside me to push it aside. It was still there—I knew it would always be—but seeing Farid look at me, and hearing his words, and knowing how quiet and steadfast and honest he was, gave me the strength to keep it away even for just this one, indescribable instant.

“I would tell you to stop constantly being in your head, Noah, but I know you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t think with your heart and wore it on your sleeve,” Farid said. He slowly raised a hand to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But I like that. I like you, Noah, with all your so-called brokenness and feelings and thoughts.”

Farid continued, but his expression was a little sterner than earlier. “Don’t take it to mean that these things are okay with me, because I think even you know that you need to find different ways to express those things. Preferably ways that don’t end up hurting you..”

As I gazed—stared, really—into Farid’s eyes, the only thought that came into my head was that this time, I knew it was for real.

This was real.

Farid was telling me he accepted me as I was but wanted me to be better—not for him, but for me.

Farid was true. He was real. He wanted to be here.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to believe him.

Farid slowly placed a hand under my chin, drawing my gaze upward until our lips were mere inches from each other. His other arm wrapped tautly around my rear.

“If you can’t trust in my words,” Farid said, pulling me in until our bodies were pressed into each other, “then maybe you’ll trust in my actions.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Maybe.”