Page 40 of Meet Cute

The screen turns on and some dumb show begins playing. Even though I’m watching it, I’m not really watching it. I’m more focused on the icy sensation of his hand exploring my body, moving from my hips down to my thigh. Finn’s touch becomes lighter the further he goes down, before his hand stops just above my knee.

“...I’m such a monster.”

“H-Huh?”

“For doing… t-this… I’m so… ugh…” Finn lets out an unhappy noise, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me so tight I see stars for a second. “I’m so sorry, bunny. I love you so much… s-so much… and I… I’m sorry…”

Everything is happening so fast I can’t even process what to say. He apologizes way too much. “You didn’t… I…” It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a decision. A conscious decision he made. “It’s okay…”

“It’s not,” he wails, “you’ll never know how much I love you because of how stupid I am… I’m such… s-such a retard!”

“Hey, don’t say that. You aren’t… Come on, Finn. You know that’s not true. You deserve better, remember?”

Hazel eyes twinkle like stars as they stare at me with adoration. The line between pretending I care and actually caring is getting dangerously thin, since seeing him cry this way and call himself that is getting to me more than I’d wish to admit.

It’s just sad. Sad to see a grown man reduced to a blubbering mess and letting the words of awful people get to him. Ignoring things people say isn’t easy, but how could it be? It doesn’t matter who it comes from, it hurts all the same.

“I do… but… not you,” he blubbers, “I don’t deserve you. I-I know I already said it, but… ugh… I feel like I only ever make things worse… all the time…”

“Finn…” What else could I say to comfort him? Instead, I lean in to hug him the best I can. Melting into my touch, Finn whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s okay… It’s gonna be okay.”

For my sake, I need things to be okay.

THIRTY

We’ve been watching some stupid horror movie about a boy and his friends being murdered in Texas for nearly two hours, as if I could care at all about who lives or dies in some schlocky C-grade production.

Finn loves it, however, clinging to my body each time something even mildly frightening happens. He’s not as slick as he thinks, pressing his cheek against my chest so obviously. When the credits finally start rolling I feel so happy I almost forget about my current situation.

“You hungry?” Thick fingers snake inside the waistband of my pants, resting against bare skin. He’s such a curious blend of sheepish and bold all at the same time. “Or tired? I… I-I don’t really know how to… entertain you.”

“I’m not a pet. I can… entertain myself.”

“I know, I know!” His face twists with worry. “I didn’t mean it that way. J-Just… You can’t… walk.”

“And who’s fault is that?” I snap, despite the fact he’s posted up in my arms like we’re madly in love. I’m right, though. Who’s fault is it? Because it sure as hell isn’t mine.

Finn swallows hard, face twisting into the saddest frown ever. “D-Duncan…”

“Fuck—sorry…” Should I be sorry? No, not really. But I am. It’s so easy to build up my anger and hatred towards Finn in my head, but one sad expression is all it takes for that to disappear entirely. How can I be so damn weak? “Yeah, okay. I’m… kinda hungry.”

I’m really not. But if I ever plan on getting out of here, I need some form of strength. Maybe. I don’t know. How the hell would that work? No amount of food is gonna magically make me capable of crawling out of here with broken unhealed legs.

“Wait,” Finn sits up properly and reaches into his pocket to pull out a little plastic baggy with a few white pills in it. “Painkiller. You want it?”

Of course I want the fucking painkiller. Whenever it starts wearing off I can feel my body screaming for actual medical attention. “Yes, please.”

To my horror he pops it into his mouth, beaming at me with the smuggest smirk for all but five seconds before realizing I didn’t find that very amusing. His expression drops almost instantly. “Not… N-Not good? Sorry, I—”

Slamming my lips against his, I grab his collar and force my tongue down his throat with so much force he almost does actually swallow the stupid pill. Through sheer determination it ends up in my mouth, and I gulp it down before pulling away from the kiss.

Dazed and now sporting an obvious boner, Finn stumbles to his feet and carries me over to the kitchen. He doesn’t even say anything, smiling dopily while kissing my head every minute.

Instead of setting me down on a chair he sets me down on the counter, taking a moment to admire me with a dopey grin. “You’re so cute, bunny. The cutest. Can we kiss again? P-Please?”

I hate how oddly charming it is that he asks instead of doing. Even before he acted cautiously, not just taking what he wanted… for the most part. Well, probably not, actually. What the hell am I even thinking?

As pathetic as it is, I’ve always been a sucker for a cute face. Especially coming from someone who looks at me that way. Not as if mental fortitude was ever a strength of mine, anyways.