Andrew thought he made himself unbreakable, unknowable, that there wasnβt a single crack in his armor that someone could peek through and see his fleshy, bleeding insides. But then someone did. Neil did. And he saw the rotted truth of Andrew and he asked to stay. And he didnβt poke around, or push. He looked, and looked, and looked, and decided that Andrew was someone to stand by. Someone that could support his weight and hold him up. He saw strength when others had seen weakness. Andrew covered himself in thorns so anyone who dared to get too close would cut themselves on his sharp edges. Oh, but Neil didnβt mind cuts and scrapes. He would gladly bleed for Andrew. Andrew, who thought he had built a fortress around himself that couldnβt be sieged. But Neil didnβt mind standing outside his borders, content with just staring within, and waiting for a βyesβ that might never come. How dare he? How dare he? Andrew was furious. He wasnβt built for harmless glances and soft touches, he made sure of that. Who was this nobody, this nothing who thought he could come around and make Andrew believe in something he wouldnβt tolerate in his life? God, did he hate Neil. He hated his patience. And his staring. And his ability to navigate Andrewβs sharp edges without cutting himself. It makes him sick how easy it is with Neil. Wasnβt Andrew better than that? Didnβt he make sure something, someone, like this would never happen? What makes Neil Abram Josten different? Why does he get to see what Andrew hides from the world, from himself? Why canβt Andrew tell him no, make him leave and never return? Why does that feel like his dead, cold heart is being ripped from chest? Why does he grip the bars of his cage and shake like a feral beast at the thought of not having this man in his life? He was supposed to be better than this. He was supposed to be protected from something like this. Oh, what a disappointment Andrew has become. Another fool at the mercy of the most dangerous thing in the world.
