chapter 7

"Fierce midnights and famishing morrows,

And the loves that complete and control

All the joys of the flesh, all the sorrows

That wear out the soul."

-Algernon Charles Swinburne,

"Dolores"

"Do it softly and give a warni—aah shit," Jacob cried out as Carter pressed the piece of cotton into his cuts. Apparently, in addition to his now dull blue bruises, he also had a cut on his face and awfully bruised knuckles.

Carter snorted and stared at him as he wrapped the bandage around his knuckles as gently as he could, "Are you okay? Maybe I should ask Venessa to do it?" he giggled.

Jacob frowned, remembering the time when they had still been in middle school and he had fallen and ended up with scratched up, bleeding knees while chasing a wild kitten that Carter found cute.

Venessa had cleaned his wound by pouring a glob of sanitizer on it and brutally rubbing it with a cotton swab.

Jacob flinched at the memory and shook his head adorably at Carter, who looked away, his cheeks a vibrant red, "She isn't home anyways."

Carter's room was a cozy one. Neither too big nor too small. The ceiling was a dark blue with white clouds and patches of bruise purple sprinkled all over with white paint for stars, a faint moon visible behind the clouds.

The walls were a pastel blue with swirling patterns at the bottom. The single bed had a fluffy pastel pillow and bedsheets to match. The shelves were lined with rows upon rows of books with more in the corner of the room because the shelf had run out of space for them.

The balcony had small green plants that were obviously—furiously—cared for. One of them Jacob recognized as the lemon grass plant he had bought for Carter. He sighed softly.

"Do you still read books?" Carter looked at him curiously. "Of course. That's one of the best things you and I have shared a lot of memories!" Jacob replied, his eyes shining with love.

"'Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck,'" Carter said. It was a game they had been playing for years. Or at least used to.

"William Herondale, Clockwork Angel," Jacob grinned, "'Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up.'"

"Tobias Eaton, Divergent. I don't think you are winning this one," Carter laughed, "'If he knew, if he only knew that I was giving him every chance to put two and two together and come up with a number bigger than infinity.'"

Jacob flinched inwardly on hearing the words. Of-course he knew the book. How could he not? It was a cruel masterpiece because it was beautiful. Or maybe it was beautiful because it was cruel? Like headlights approaching a deer who is unable to move away.

All it took was one hit.

Jacob smiled and whispered, "Elio, Call me by your name."

Carter giggled and said, "Okay, okay. Your turn."

Jacob locked his eyes with Carter's and whispered again, unable to stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth like a waterfall. He wouldn't stop it even if he could.

"'I stopped for a second. If you remember everything, I wanted to say, and if you really are like me, then before you leave tomorrow, or when you're just ready to shut the door of the taxi and have already said goodbye to everyone else and there's not a thing left to say in this life, then, just this once, turn to me, even in jest, or as an afterthought, which would have meant everything to me when we were together, and, as you did back then, look me in the face, hold my gaze and call me by your name.'"

Carter looked at him, his expression unreadable, and quoted, "'Is it better to speak or die?'"

Jacob gave another sad, wistful smile, "'If I could have him like this in my dreams every night of my life, I'd stake my entire life on dreams and be done with the rest.'"

Jacob wasn't sure what was going on or what was going to happen next. A part of him didn't even want to know. What he did know, though, was that he was trying to tell Carter what he felt. Through quotes. Maybe Carter was doing the same?

"'Did I want him to act? Or would I prefer a lifetime of longing provided we both kept this little Ping-Pong game going: not knowing, not-not-knowing, not-not-not-knowing? Just be quiet, say nothing, and if you can't say "yes," don't say "no," say "later." Is this why people say "maybe" when they mean "yes," but hope you'll think it's "no" when all they really mean is, Please, just ask me once more, and once more after that?'" Carter stared at him with unfocused eyes.

There was magic in the air, a cruel and suffocating kind of magic, but magic nonetheless. A connection. And neither of them knew what to do next in order to not damage it. They locked eyes with each other, both wanting to look away but not quite enough to actually look away.

Carter stared into Jacob's bruise eyes, tracing each tiny detail about them, etching them into his memory: how the light fell on it, how it sparkled like water under moonlight, how there were four small patches of light blue in his right eye. Everything.

Just as Jacob stared into his gray eyes: how his eyes had the fierceness he remembered, the silver lining of his gray irises, how the guarded look in his eyes seem to soften involuntarily for him; like silver, moonlit sand after a wave of blue water.

"'Some infinities are bigger than other infinities,'" they both whispered at the same time, feeling a wave of shared nostalgia crash over them and pull them with it.

The deafening silence was broken when they heard the door knob of Carter's bedroom jiggle. "Carter come here and help me with Alec!" Venessa shouted and then groaned, probably from Alec's weight.

Carter snapped out of the daze and immediately looked away; his stomach full of butterflies. "Coming!" he called back and quickly hurried out to the living room. Alec was lying sprawled across the floor, his eyes red and neck peppered with lipstick marks.

Venessa groaned again as she tried to pull Alec up who simultaneously tried to fall back to the floor, finally succeeding in taking Ven down with him. Carter snorted, earning a glare from Venessa.

Suddenly, her eyes shifted and locked to something behind him, eyes cold and angry. As angry as he had ever seen her. Carter turned around to see Jacob standing shyly, flustered and obviously unaware that Ven was furious.

She got up from Alec's chest, where she had fallen, and walked over to Jacob, pulling him by his elbow and pushed him out of the door. "Don't you dare come back again. You've hurt him enough for a lifetime," she glared at him and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the frame.

Carter flinched at the sound and stared at Ven, unable to comprehend what just happened. She turned her glare on Alec, "Get up right now," she said, her voice deadly calm.

Alec stood up straight and gave her a mini salute, "Yes ma'am!" Carter thought Alec had instantly sobered up…at-least until started giggling, "Carter look at Ven! She looks soo mad. Loosen up lady!"

Venessa's jaw twitched and kicked Alec's knee, her eyes angry. Alec flinched and scrambled away from her, clinging to Carter for support.

Carter murmured to him softly to calm him down and finally managed to put him to bed. A drunk Alec was a baby Alec—Carter preferred the mature, sober Alec.

"Venessa why did you do that?" Carter asked her gently. "Look Ter, I don't like that he hurt you. Let's not talk about this anymore, okay?" Venessa sighed, not angry anymore; just exhausted.

Carter sighed too and said, "I know you don't like him but this is my life. Let me make the decisions yeah? I promise I'll protect myself."

Venessa frowned, "Yeah, yeah, but just know if something happens to you…" her eyes flashed protectively for a moment before she continued, "Can I come over tomorrow? For homework? I'll be borrowing your text books alright?"

Carter dramatically rolled his eyes, "I can't believe you still ask me such dumb questions. Of-course you can! This is practically your house. You even have the spare keys."

"Time?" Venessa snorted, "How about eleven a.m.?" Carter smiled and nodded eagerly. They hugged tightly and he walked Venessa to the door. He watched her go down the lift before shutting the door.

Carter walked into his room, finally processing his feelings. He obviously liked Jacob but he couldn't imagine himself in a relationship with anybody.

He thought about all the people he had cut ties with when they started getting too close and saying stuff like, 'I really care about you' or 'I was soo worried about you that I couldn't concentrate on my work!'

He didn't like the idea of anybody caring too much for him. Or getting worried about him. Those feelings bring expectations and he had had enough. He switched off the lights in his room and slipped into the covers, remembering the moment before Venessa had interrupted them.

What would've happened if she hadn't? Would they have kept staring at each other till someone did interrupt them? Or would they have kissed again? Touched a bit maybe?

He remembered how it felt when Jacob had kissed him earlier today, the comfort. He remembered how it felt to hug Jacob in bed, the heat and the warmth of Jacob's body keeping his own warm. The feel of those lips on his neck, sucking, biting, licking. He remembered the hickey.

But when he fell asleep, it was the bruise eyes that visited him again. the gaze soft and gentle, caressing him and enveloping him in its warmth. Giving him a place to finally call home.