Asher curled up on the cold floor of his dorm/ room, his entire body trembling as he let out muffled sobs. Crumpled tissues littered the space around him, evidence of the emotional breakdown he was suffering. His throat was sore from crying, his chest aching with a heaviness that refused to subside. The trauma he had endured that day was a fresh wound, raw and unhealed, throbbing with every painful memory that replayed in his mind.
"How could he do that? I was willing to trust him… I never expected him to do exactly what I passed through in high school… Ezekiel… why?" Asher whispered into the silence, his voice barely audible. His tear-streaked face was a portrait of anguish, his expression frozen somewhere between fear and heartbreak. He clutched at his shirt, as if trying to steady himself, as if holding onto something tangible could stop the storm of emotions from swallowing him whole.
His gaze drifted to the bed, and suddenly, the memories flooded back with cruel clarity. He could still feel it—the touch, the weight, the suffocating grip of Ezekiel's hands as he forced him down. Asher's breathing hitched, his stomach turning violently as he recalled how Ezekiel had used his body, how he had nearly choked, how he had struggled until his vision blurred. If not for his own resolve, if not for the primal instinct to survive, he dared not imagine what could have become of him.
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped his lips, and he wiped at his tears aggressively, angry at himself, at his foolishness. "I am so stupid," he choked out, shaking his head. "For once, I believed love could be like rainbows and bed of roses. I thought my life would be like those fairytales—like Snow White or Cinderella, where they found their prince charming without even trying."
But life was not a fairytale. Love was not a magical story with a happy ending.
He had learned this the hard way. First, with Jeremy—the boy who had once held his heart in the palm of his hands. The boy he had trusted, who had made him feel special, who had kissed him with a passion that felt electric, unforgettable. The lingering memory of that kiss still haunted him, the way Jeremy's lips had felt against his, the warmth of his embrace, the way they had fit together so perfectly. He had thought it was love. Real, undeniable love.
And then came his sister.
Jeremy had crushed him, shattered his heart into irreparable pieces when he had chosen her. Asher had watched in stunned silence as Jeremy denied everything—every moment, every secret touch, every whispered confession. He had stood there as Jeremy's lips moved, speaking words that turned his love into dust, claiming that their relationship had been nothing but friendship, nothing but a passing mistake.
"Asher, we were just friends. It was never real," Jeremy had said, his voice firm, final.
But the worst part, the most excruciating pain of it all, was the fear in Jeremy's eyes. He had been scared—not of Asher, but of what being with Asher meant. He had been terrified of what the world would think, of what people would say. And so, he had chosen the easy way out. He had chosen to erase everything, to rewrite their story as something meaningless.
And Asher had let him.
The pain of that betrayal still lingered, but it was nothing compared to the fresh wounds that Ezekiel had left on him. With Jeremy, he had lost love. With Ezekiel, he had lost trust. The world had proven to him, over and over again, that his love was unwanted, that he was nothing more than an inconvenience, a secret to be hidden away, a toy to be used and discarded.
His sobs grew louder, his body convulsing with every breath he took. He gripped his hair, his fingers digging into his scalp as he tried to silence the voices in his head—the voices that told him he was unworthy, that he was broken beyond repair, that no one would ever truly love him.
He wanted to disappear. To melt into the floor and never resurface.
He reached for another tissue, but his hands were shaking so badly that he dropped it. His whole body felt weak, like his bones had lost their strength. He tried to stand, but his knees buckled, forcing him back to the floor. His cries turned into silent gasps, his throat raw from the relentless sobbing. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him, trapping him in this unbearable pain.
His mind wandered back to his childhood, to the days when he was just a boy who believed in love. He remembered sitting by the window, watching the rain, dreaming of the day he would find someone who would hold him without fear, someone who would love him openly, without shame. He had believed, so foolishly, that love was something beautiful, something worth waiting for.
But now, he knew better.
Love was pain. Love was betrayal. Love was watching the people you gave your heart to crush it under their feet without a second thought.
He pressed a hand against his chest, as if trying to hold himself together, as if trying to keep his shattered heart from falling apart completely. His breathing was ragged, uneven. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stop crying, to stop feeling, to just stop.
But the pain was relentless. The memories were relentless. The hurt refused to fade.
He thought of his reflection in the mirror—the boy who used to smile, who used to dream. He didn't recognize himself anymore. He was a ghost, a shadow of the person he once was. The light in his eyes was gone, replaced by an unbearable emptiness.
A sudden knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts.
"Asher?" Aster's voice was soft, hesitant. "Are you okay?"
Asher didn't answer. He couldn't. His voice had abandoned him, lost in the sea of his sorrow.
Another knock. "Asher, please… talk to me."
He wanted to tell Jeremy to go away, to leave him alone. But at the same time, a part of him—no matter how small—longed for comfort, for someone to hold him and tell him that he wasn't alone.
The door creaked open, and Jeremy stepped inside. His eyes widened at the sight before him—the tissues, the tear-streaked face, the trembling form of his best friend curled up on the floor.
"Asher…" Jeremy whispered, his heart breaking at the sight.
Asher let out a shaky breath, his eyes meeting Jeremy's. For the first time in a long time, he let himself be seen. Let himself be vulnerable. Let himself be held. To feel the warmth of a human and even though it was his tormentor he doesn't care anymore.