which was of course, I love you.

4.

(WOOO I posted this early) The next time I saw Boris was in school. I was at my locker during a passing period and saw him walk by. He had her with him. He was purposefully avoiding my gaze, and I could tell. They both had marks on their necks, poorly hidden. I was jealous. Her neck was covered, like mine had been just a few nights before. Their arms were around eachother, Boris' around her waist. I despised "kotku", and he knew it. I didn't know what to do, so I dropped everything and ran. I ran for I dont know how long, into the bathroom. I ran into a stall, I couldn't take it. As soon as I had closed the door I was on the floor, sobbing into my knees. I don't know how long I cried for, but next thing I knew the final bell had rung, and everyone was pouring into the hallways, ready to go home. I got up, grabbing my things quickly and joining the crowd. As soon as I was home, I was up in my room, locking the door. The painting. My mother. That's all I wanted right now. Her. To see her. I grabbed the painting, hugging it to my chest. All I needed. I began to cry again, slow, heaving sobs. Nothing was right anymore. Not even Boris and I. I was lost this time, too lost to think. I ran downstairs, grabbing Xandra's plastic bag with the v on it. I bolt back upstairs, grabbing an empty beer bottle, random plate, and some slip of paper. I crush the pills, pushing them into little lines. After all the lines are gone, I grab the half drunk bottle of whatever Boris had mixed together next to me. I am going to get shitfaced. I didnt care. I didn't care that I could die, hell I bet Boris didn't care either. I wanted to forget. I had forgotten about boris for about an hour, until I looked at my feet. On the floor next to me, was his shirt. I picked up my phone, feeling extremely sick. I did the only thing I could, call him. He didnt pick up until the last ring. "Eh, hallo?" It was her. I couldn't fucking believe it. "W..where's Boris?" I was about to throw up. Hold it. Do not throw up, theo. "Oh! Boris uhm.. smack c..cant comes to p..phone..~. smack" I couldn't take it, I almost threw up then and there. Shit. I knew that was boris making that noise. His lips were on her. Somewhere. I was fucking panicking, trying to hide it. "I- I need him on the phone. Now. " she didnt say anything, she must've handed boris the phone because next thing I know I hear "yes, potter?" He didnt sound mad, or even upset. He sounded worried. I was crying now, almost throwing up everytime I spoke. "B..boris, I need you. I was s..stupid and got shitfaced to forget and I think I'm fucking dying." He sounded panicked now. "I'm on my way." I could her her complaining in the background as he hung up. As soon as he hung up I ran straight to the bathroom, throwing up. Fuck, how I hated throwing up. I was sitting in the bathroom when Boris arrived, throwing up and crying. He walked into the bathroom, pulling me into a tight hug. Too tight. I threw up over his shoulder, onto his back. "Shit- Boris, I-" he cut me off by shushing me, whispering nonsense in polish. I continued to cry, letting go of him sometimes to throw up. "What did you take?" I barely remember. "T..the bag, with the v. And the bottle." He knew exactly what I was talking about. He looked really worried. "Potter! You cant chase vicodin with that shit! You couldve fucking died!" Hes crying too, less than me though. "I-- I'm sorry! I didn't know.." I did know. That was the point. The point was to see her. My mother. After he made me throw up the rest of it, he cleaned us both up and laid me down. I thought he would leave. Go back to her. But he didn't. He stayed, making sure I was safe. It was sweet. That night I fell asleep in his arms, him humming a polish lullaby.