Last chapter, guys. Hope you've enjoyed the fic and that it helped you cope with the black hole.


"What was that all that about?"

"Forget it."

"No, Christian, stop hiding things from me."

I'd just seen Christian arguing with my parents in the street - there was a huge scene, lots of on-lookers. It looked nasty, vitriolic, but they'd broken it off before I could get close enough to hear. It was horrible even if I didn't know the details, how it started. All I knew is that my parents had walked off, Christian ambled towards me not noticing I was there until I called his name. We walked back to the flat together but he wouldn't explain anything - he was seething.

"You've got enough on your plate," he said, pouring himself a whisky.

"What is it, Christian? You don't think I can cope? I'm not a child."

He took a gulp of his drink, no intention of speaking.

"Fine!"

I stormed out of the flat to go straight to the caf. My parents wouldn't talk to me but Jane might. I couldn't understand why Christian chose to exclude me from things, why he thought he knew best by keeping the reality from me when it was him, after all, that had this 'honesty' mantra. It was so hypocritical.


When I got to the caf, Jane was there, thankfully.

"Jane, can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, one second." She finished serving and sat down at a table with me. "What's wrong?"

"It's Christian. He's just had a big argument with my parents and..."

"Another one?"

"What? He had one before?"

Jane sighed and pondered for a moment. "Have you spoken to him?"

"He won't say anything – I only know because I saw them in the street, drawing attention to themselves."

She rubbed my arm with her thumb. "You need to talk."

"But he won't tell me! No one will. Can't you say, please?"

"I'm not even sure I know it all. All I know is that Christian went to see them a while back and since then, things have gotten pretty.. sour."

"When did he go to see them? Why?"

"I don't know, a week or so ago? He said he went over to try and make things better but I think he ended up making things worse – don't ask me how – and now it seems to have escalated into... oh, I dunno. It's a mess."

I exhaled forcefully. "And he thought I didn't have the right to know any of this?" I said angrily.

"Oh, Syed, please don't get cross with him. I think he was just trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"You know how it is. We are the only ones allowed to criticise the people we love, and all that. I think, as well, that he doesn't want to you to get caught up in it."

"How can I not be caught up in it? It's my parents and my..."

"Go and talk to him, Syed. He will open up eventually."

I remained dubious. That this was going on was upsetting in itself, but the fact it was going on behind my back... did they really all see me as a child? Too young and innocent, too stupid to be let in? The whole thing had put me in a seriously bad mood. I just hoped Christian had calmed down.


I entered the flat to find Christian sat at the table, his bottle of whisky considerably less full than it was before. This wasn't going to help.

"Where'd you go?"

"To see someone who has a little more faith in me than you do."

"Not your parents then..."

"Oh fuck off, Christian!"

"Well, enlighten me then..." His tone was sarcastic, infuriating, but I was too worked up to leave the conversation til a better time. I knew we could fight tonight but I was impatient to know the truth.

"Your sister. And she told me," I continued ignoring his scoffing, "what's been going on with you and my parents. That you've been arguing. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You wouldn't wanna know, Sy."

"Well I do want to know, so tell me. What's this all about?"

I grudgingly tolerated his huge gulp of whisky to finish his glass because his face then relaxed into a smile – a sad smile, haunting almost - but he looked beautiful. He got up and took both my hands in his, lightly rubbing my palms with his thumbs. His eyes never left mine as he pressed down into my palms and squeezed my wrists. Reassurance? Letting his gaze fall, he led me to the sofa.

"Sy, I've had my reasons not to tell you, mainly that you're too good for this, what's been going on."

"Don't patronise me," I pleaded.

"I'm not. It's just, it's gotten really... ugly, dark. I haven't wanted to upset you with it all – this isn't easy for you anyway, even without all that."

"Jane said you went round to see them."

"Yeah," he laughed. "It seems stupid now but I thought I could do something for your relationship. I thought if I went round there with a cool head, explained things properly, they might, I dunno, be more open to listen to you, to reconcile with you. Next day, I had the police round, treating me like a criminal, turning my flat upside down – turns out they'd had an anonymous tip-off that I had drugs in the flat."

"Mum and dad?"

"They hate me, Syed. They wanna see me dead or banged up."

"I'm sure they don't, Christian," I said reassuringly.

"I'm not hypothesising." He looked at me, confirmation in his eyes, sorrow. "I could take it before but... it's constant now. It's ridiculous."

"Take what?"

"Oh, y'know..."

"No. I don't."

"They say stuff about you... just cos they know it gets to me. I wouldn't want to repeat it. And they say stuff about me, too. Today, they called me a rapist – right there in front of loads of people, they shouted it. I can't... I just can't anymore."

His voice broke and tears came streaming down his face, he was visibly shaken. I took his hand in some pathetic attempt to comfort him but I was barely of any use in that moment, I was in shock. I had no idea things had gotten this far – it was absolutely unforgivable. My thoughts hadn't organised themselves in the time it took Christian to stop crying so hard. He eventually let go and poured himself some more whisky to calm himself. He must have got through half a bottle by now.

"Before you came back," he continued, trying to steady his voice, "your father, he saw me, in the street after what Amira's dad had done. He did nothing. I was bleeding and he walked away, left me there, alone, terrified," he said, his eyes growing wide, scared. "He'd rather I was dead than with you, Sy. And up until now, I've wanted you to be able to reconcile your relationship with your parents because I know what they mean to you. But now, they've reached the point where they're so full of hate, I would actually be scared for you to be in contact with them. They speak of you in such vile terms, Sy," he said amidst more tears. "And I'd have rather you not known, but... I'll never forgive them."

It was too much, his sobbing was uncontrollable. I brought his soaking face into my chest and held him, half distraught myself by his reaction, half still unable to compute this information. My parents now sounded like people I didn't know, didn't want to know. It was one thing not to like Christian, not to support us, but to call him... that... Tears were falling silently down my cheeks – it was starting to sink in, little-by-little. The gravity of this.

Christian gulped, his crying having subsided.

"I'm sorry, Sy."

My mouth made some sound of acknowledgement that let him know it wasn't his fault. That's all my brain could manage right now.

"I've been so worried about saying anything. It must be so hard to hear that about your family."

"Family," I laughed, cynically. I looked into his bloodshot eyes, then kissed him, his lips timid but grateful recipients - the normally unpleasant flavour of salt-tears mixed with alcohol making me fall instantly in love with it, for I now associated it with the heightened feelings I had for Christian in this moment. "That's you."


I watched the blood come to the surface of the skin on Christian's back where I'd scratched him, provoking me to moan loudly. Christian immediately gave a shout of pleasure and pushed back into me so I was deep inside him. Words now came readily from his mouth, telling me exactly how he wanted it, calling my name, asking for more, teasing me by cooling it down every so often so that our pleasure could last. How bitter sweet it was for an impatient body like mine.

Biting down into his shoulder, he couldn't play with us anymore. Now it was solely powerful, driven, exhilarating. It was the last indulgence.

I could feel the pleasure start to rise up in me as I took those last few thrusts inside Christian. His hand was pushing me in so far as he tightened to keep me there, I felt him on every inch. My hand which had been rubbing him became copiously drenched whilst I could feel my own come coat the inside of him, coat me.

As my pleasure died down, I pulled out but stayed laying over him as he turned over to face me. His eyes penetrated me more than I'd ever known, making love charge through my body, overwhelming me. My body wanted to cry but the tears stayed in, although my body shook. How did he do it?

He brought my face down to his and kissed me so perfectly, it was brilliant but scary all at once. I felt compelled to cut it short lest my body not cope.

He smiled.

"I love you, Sy. With every bead of sweat, with every ounce of me."

"I just can't explain it – that's why I had to show you."

He smiled again the most perfect smile, I was touched. But then he looked at me with a seriousness in his eye. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, them losing you. You must be devastated."

"Upon learning the extent of who they are, yes. But I've found comfort in you, in what you've done for me."

"It's just... I know how much family means to you."

"Maybe I've found something that matters more."

...


THE END


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