Page 32 of Meet Cute

The drawers of his dresser are pulled open with clothes strung about, and the desk sitting in the corner of the room houses a computer with a bunch of multi-colored glowing lights.

“You’re so warm…” he mutters under his breath, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. “This is so… I-It’s everything I dreamed of” Finn nuzzles into my upper back, whimpering. “I love you, Duncan. So much. M-More than anything…”

There’s no way I could ever say it back. Maybe he thinks he loves me, but it just… it doesn’t feel right. How can this be love? The fuck could have possibly happened for him to fall so fast and so hard for me?

“How many others?” The question comes out abruptly thanks to me and my lack of a filter. I really am such a stupid idiot. “...Before me?”

Finn’s hold on me loosens. His hands shoot up to my shoulders, flipping me over so we’re face to face. That normally cheerful expression of his is replaced with an icier grim one.

“Don’t ever say that,” he warns in a low voice. His eyes almost look black, and his fingers dig into my skin so hard there will definitely be bruising. “There’s never been anyone else, and there never will be.”

“But—”

“Duncan.” The man in front of me feels like a whole different person, since he’s not even blinking anymore. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever. You… You’re so sweet, but strong, and—I need you. You need me, too. You just… don’t know it yet..”

I gulp. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His voice goes back to being sweet in the blink of an eye. “You’re so special, so… Let me show you. I-I really am devoted to you, Dunk.”

Springs below us whine for help as he shifts, fiddling with the waistband of his sweatpants. At first I think this is about to get horribly dark, but when he pulls them down to reveal his cartoon shark underwear I nearly gasp.

“What the hell, Finn?”

TWENTY-FIVE

DUNCAN. DUNCAN. DUNCAN.

My name crudely carved over and over in the flesh of his thighs with gashes so deep that they don’t quite seem fully healed. Panic sets in as my attention keeps shifting between the horrible mess he’s made of himself and the horrifyingly happy expression he has.

“For you,” he inches closer, “I did it for you.”

“But why?” There’s so many better questions I could’ve asked, but that’s the first one that came to mind. “W-Why would you do this to yourself?”

He scoffs like it’s so obvious. “Because you’re special to me. I’m yours. I-I know… I know you don’t want me right now… but when you do…”

It’s really so irksome about how presumptuous he is about everything. Does he really think this is going to end with us falling in love? Having a normal life? How would he explain those marks to people? It’s crazy—it’s insane, even.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say,” I admit. “It’s…”

When my head raises up at him he’s giving me the softest, most eager-to-please look. Why does it still make my stomach sink to think about being mean to him? I know that everything is so unbelievably fucked up, but… he’s clearly not well. That’s obvious.

Can I really blame him for all of this? It must’ve been the first time in his entire life someone saw him. Someone protected him. This is wrong, but he must not have known what else to do.

Haley would yell at me for making excuses, and the worst thing is she’d be right. I don’t need to try and justify this to anyone, let alone myself. But there’s something about him that I can’t even explain. I want to… fix him, or something. It’s honestly a joke that writes itself.

I know it’s stupid. I can’t fix this. I can’t fix someone willing to go to such extreme lengths. I can’t fix someone who literally broke my legs. But the pompous asshole in me thinks I could.

Not that he deserves it. He could grovel his entire life and he’d still never deserve it.

“Let’s go to bed.” I’m not tired at all since I slept the entire day, but according to the window it’s dark outside which means we should really just sleep.

Finn doesn’t move. “...You don’t like it.”

“I’d never want anyone to hurt themselves for me. That’s all.”

“It didn’t hurt, though. I-I wanted to do it. It felt… right, I think.”

My brow raises. “You think?”