Love Kills (Dnf Short Story)

Not Safe With Me

Death Day

(George's pov)

"Wait, with what Clay? I need you to use your words and talk to me." I state clearly, even though his breathing is still stuttered it's as if his tears were sucked dry, the only reminisce of bawling was the salty stains that lined his freckled cheeks. He stares into my eyes, almost trying to search for something in them. His eyebrows are laced in misery and heartbreak.

I sigh in a little bit of frustration, but I still wait patiently for him to start talking. I watch as his sight moves to his hands and he fumbles around with his fingers anxiously. I wish he would just talk to me instead of worrying me. Did something traumatic happen to him? Did he get canceled and lost his online career? How am I supposed to know what's wrong if he continues to panic and not communicate?

Finally after what feels like forever, does Clay make a noise.

"I- uh... I don't remember." He looks around him as if he's utterly lost. Like he doesn't even know how he got to my house. Again panic comes over him and he stands up.

"What do you mean-" I try to ask but I stop myself. I'm shocked when he starts to back up from me and makes his way to the door. He doesn't even look back which confuses me even more. He just barges into my apartment, cries in my arms, then goes to leave? No way I'm going to let that happen. No way he's going to leave without giving me answers.

"Clay, come back. You aren't in the right shape to be driving." I try, but he pushes through my cautious words. "Clay, I'm being serious." I get up from my couch and jog over to him. Just as he's about to put his hand on the doorknob, I grasp into his shoulder. "Clay, no."

"I-I have to leave. Y-you're not s-safe with me here." He stutters. His body's shaking, he seems terrified of himself more than anything else in this world. I simply stay, holding onto his shoulder, being stubborn as always.

"Clay, I can't just let you leave. Not like this. You're not safe driving out there right now." I tug on his shoulder trying to get him to face me. He refuses though. "Clay, what did you mean I'm not safe." I ask, maybe I can get him to talk to me more, maybe convince him to stay.

However, Clay just shudders and sighs. He's really determined to leave. So determined that he pulls his shoulder roughly out of my grip and places his hand onto the knob of the door. If he's going to do that, then I'm going to have to play smarter. I grab his hand which he instantly tries to pull away but fails.

"Let go, George. Let me leave." He flatly says, still trying to wiggle my hand out of his. I know he has a soft side to him. I know we've always joked, but I know he cares. I latch onto his hand like a leach, not once letting go to regrip or anything. Finally, Clay turns to me. "George, please." He sounds upset, not at me but rather himself. I look into his eyes which are filled with sad, sad tears. "You don't understand George."

"Then tell me."

He begins to shake his head and tears begin to stream down his face again. His eyes are red and swollen from the amount of pain he's been supposedly through. I want to help him but I simply can't if he doesn't tell me anything. The hand I hold loosens and relaxes. I think he's about to give in. I sigh and bring my aggressive stance down to a more comforting one.

He nods and I smile gratefully to him before pulling us away from the door and to the kitchen. I got him some water, holding him by my side the whole time, worried that if I let go he would run off and get hurt. The ice clinks into the glass and the water splashes on my free hand. I hand it to him and we choose to stay in the kitchen.

"You ready?" I ask him, rubbing his knuckles again, finding myself peace doing so. He gives me a nod and opens his arms again. I always forget about how touchy he is, but I give into his gesture and fall into another embrace. We stay like that for a while, swaying side to side and warming each other.

All of a sudden, I'm hit with a sharp pain in my abdomen.