The Tragedy of Felix and Jake Read Online J. Daniels

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: J. Daniels Advertisement

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My vision takes forever to clear, and it’s so damn frustrating. I want to see where I am.

I grunt and try rubbing at my eyes, but I feel a pinch in my arm when I try to bend it. Probably an IV. I know the drill (unfortunately). So, I lift my other arm and it feels heavier than it should, every part of my body does, but I can move this arm without any pain, and I raise my hand to my face and rub at my eyes with my fingertips, and it helps. The room materializes.

Small. Beige and blue. Quiet.

There’s only raindrops and sweet rhythmic bleeps and breathing.

And my brain throbs at all of it.

I feel the oxygen tube against my nose. It tickles and irritates me, and I want it out, along with this stupid IV that pinches no matter if I bend my arm or not, but I leave them alone (I know better now).

I’m finally done doing things my way. I think I have to be.

I’ve survived my second overdose.

How the fuck am I this lucky?

How?

And how many more chances will I get?

I think I know the answer to that question and it scares the shit out of me, and that’s probably a great thing.

I close my eyes and take the deepest breath I can (again, how the fuck am I this lucky?), then I carefully glance around the room, trying not to move my head too much. I really don’t want to puke.

And by the way my throat burns, I’d say I’ve done it a lot already.

My gaze moves from the window to my blanketed feet to around the bed and slams to a stop when I spot my brother stretched out in one of those reclining hospital chairs that are too stiff to ever actually recline, and his arms are crossed over his chest and his head is bowed as he sleeps, deeply, and it’s his breathing I’ve been hearing, not my own.

And I’ve never been so happy to see someone before.

I reach out and I’m moving so slowly, it feels like I’ll never get to him, but then my hand touches CJ’s knee, again when he doesn’t rouse, my fingertips tap, and finally his head jerks up and his eyes flash open.

He looks straight at me, shocked silent and wide awake.

But he’s so tired still (of this), I can tell.

His eyes are wet and bloodshot with dark smudges underneath, and he hasn’t shaved in days, by the looks of it.

I’ve never seen my brother with a full beard before and I want to laugh at him right now, because there are specks of ginger mixed with the dirty blonde growing over his cheeks and down his neck and it’s the most unexpected thing, and I badly want to fall back into the way we used to be before I went and fucked everything up, but I can’t tease him or even smile.

And how can I anyway, when my brother looks the way he does; so fucking devastated and scared, even now.

“Jake,” he whispers.

Fuck, I could cry just hearing him say my name.

“Hey.” My voice cracks and stings to use, and I wince through a swallow of dry spit.

CJ shoots forward then, sliding to the edge of the chair and grabs a Styrofoam cup with a straw stuck into it from the wheel away tray beside the bed.

He holds it out for me to drink, saying, “Here. This should still be cold.”

I take two sips and then pull away, barely getting that little bit of liquid down because my fucking throat feels like it’s covered in blisters and my stomach is so hollow it hurts.

“Oh, fuck,” I groan.

CJ’s brows lift, his tired eyes widen, and he looks at me like hearing me curse is the most wonderful sound to him.

But something happens as I watch him set the cup aside, because when he looks at me again there are tears welling in his eyes now and one drop disappearing into his beard.

And I did this to him, didn’t I?

“I’m sorry,” I rush out, whimpering through the pain I feel for what I’ve done. It’s consuming me. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me, CJ. Please. I know you do, and you should, but please don’t. I’ll do anything…”

And he’s openly crying now as he grabs on to the bottom of his chair and pulls it as close to the bed as he can get it without crushing his legs so he can lean over me and lay his head in my lap and wrap his strong arms around me.

I’ve seen him like this only once before, in a different hospital in another state, but still him and me, just like this, and how could he ever forgive me for doing this to him again when I promised him I wouldn’t?

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