Maris closed the distance between them. He set the mask down on the shelves to Darling’s left, then pulled the bottle out of Darling’s hand and placed it beside the mask. “I don’t care what you look like, Darling. I never have. It’s your heart that’s beautiful.”

Darling cursed him for a liar as he reached for the bottle again.

Maris caught his hand to keep him from touching it. “You don’t need that.”

Yes, he did. He had nothing else in his life. “There’s no beauty left in me, Mari. People are nothing but rabid animals who attack friend and foe for no reason whatsoever. They don’t care. They don’t feel. All they want to do is crush others and make them bleed as if that will somehow miraculously aleviate their putrid misery. There’s nothing left but hatred, contempt, and disgust in my heart. I finally understand what drove Arturo and why I was attacked.”

Wanting only to comfort him, Maris wrapped his arms around Darling’s waist and held him close.

To his surprise, Darling actually leaned back against his chest and closed his eyes. Then, he reached up to curl his arm around Maris’s neck. Darling hadn’t allowed him to hold him like this since before his first rape. If nothing else, that told him just how much pain Darling was in.

“How flagged are you, Darling?”

“Very.” His breathing ragged, he swallowed hard as he surrendered his weight to Maris. “I’m so fucked up, Mari,” he whispered. “All I feel now is unending pain and utter misery. I just want to sleep and I can’t even do that. I’m so tired of it all…”

Maris tightened his arms around him, wishing there was something, anything, he could do to make it better. He held Darling tight as a thousand regrets ripped him apart. “I know, sweetie. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall, I promise.”

Swaying with Darling in his arms, Maris brushed the hair back from Darling’s scarred face and kissed his bearded cheek before he spoke the words that broke his heart into pieces. “But we both know that I’m not what you need or want. No matter how much I love you, I can’t heal you.”

Tears swam in Darling’s eyes, but not a single one fell. Darling’s strength had always amazed him. No matter the firestorm, he’d always stood so proud and defiant in the midst of it.

Leaning his head back onto Maris’s shoulder, Darling cupped his cheek in his gloved hand. “Why couldn’t I be gay? It would be so easy to love you if I were. You’ve always been here for me, Mari. You’ve never hurt me. Not once.”

The truth stung him as Maris thought back to all the times Darling had been ostracized, in need of a friend, and he’d been too afraid to publicly acknowledge him. But Darling never seemed to remember that part of their friendship. It didn’t tear him apart the way it did Maris.