“Please don’t do this.” (from this meme)
Connor can’t breathe in here. The air’s too heavy, too full, too stifling. He can’t be here anymore. He has to get outside. He needs the distance.
“Connor?”
“Don’t worry about it, Oliver,” Connor says. He grabs his jacket off the back of the couch and heads for the door.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Tell me what’s happening.”
Nothing was happening. And that’s the problem. They were sitting on the couch, watching netflix, like seems the routine anymore. And it all felt so sickeningly domestic.
Connor doesn’t do domestic. That’s just not who he is.
Fuck and run. That’s all he’s ever been.
But it’s never been like that with Oliver, not even from the start, when Connor had picked him up at a bar for a quick lay but ended up staying for breakfast just because of a pair of brown doe eyes and a simple, “Please?”
Connor doesn’t cuddle. Only he does with Oliver. And he loves it.
He’s messed this up. So, so bad. He’s in too deep. He needs to get out.
Coliver 33
Published
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