23. Dax

Chapter twenty-three

Dax

"I see you in my dreams. Do I appear in your dreams too or has your soul forgotten me?"

"I wish I didn't have to go, Dax. I wish things were different, but they aren't. If I could turn back time, I would do everything in my power not to leave you. Please don't shut me out like this. I hate the thought of you being alone. I hate knowing I'm the reason for your pain." I can hear the pain in his voice, but I can't bring myself to look up. "Please look at me, pretty boy. Please don't let these be part of our last memories together before I'm gone for a while. Fuck, baby, you're killing me, I can't stand that look on your face right now. I don't want to see tears in those ocean blue eyes."

I'm trying to listen to the words as they come out of his mouth. I'm really trying, but my brain is the enemy right now. He's going to war, but I've been fighting a battle of my own for so long.

What's worse, being a slave to your mind or a slave to your country?

You can always leave your country behind, but how do you cut ties with your mind when all it wants to see you do is fall apart?

He's leaving me. I should've known.

Everyone eventually leaves.

I internally scoff at the pathetic feeling.

I can feel him staring into my soul, trying to read my mind. I can hear how close he is from his ragged breathing. I know he's holding himself back right now from touching me, even though he wants to hold my chin in his fingers and tilt my head up so he can stare into my eyes, my ocean blue eyes he's completely and utterly obsessed with.

But I can't. He'll see everything I'm not saying through them. He's always been able to read me, it was a blessing and a curse.

And in this moment, it felt like a burden.

I'm so proud of him. Yet so devastated the very thing making me so proud is taking him away.

How could I prevent him from saving our country? only a terrible person wouldn't want him to go.

But that's what I am. Terrible.

I'm afraid to look up at him, into his eyes. I'm afraid to see him hurting and I'm afraid for him to see me hurting too.

Attempting to swallow the lump in my throat, I cough slightly. It hurts. My throat has become so dry, it feels as though I've swallowed glass. The only thing I know to do right now, is pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as tightly as possible, protecting myself from everything on the outside.

It takes a few moments for me to register the next words that are coming from Jae's mouth.

"Breathe with me, pretty boy. That's good. Count with me to three, one… two… three. Good. You're doing so good. And again, one… two… three."

Without any thought, I follow his orders. It's as though they're my only means of survival. My body instantly reacts to his words before my mind has a moment to hesitate. His deep rich voice has the power to bring me back every time.

I'm going to miss his voice. I'm going to miss him.

I thought I was okay. I was aware today was the day he was going. I've known it all along. The knowledge has been eating me alive, the pain pulling me apart from the inside. But I've also known there's nothing I could do about it either, so instead I put on a fake smile, hoping he didn't look too closely behind it, while on the inside, I felt as though I was no more.

I felt as though time was running out.

It wasn't until last night when it truly hit me that he was leaving, and I'd be left here all alone again. I got so used to his company, I got so used to him. I promised myself I wouldn't do that. I swore I wouldn't have my heart broken again and I walked straight into the trap.

I couldn't stop myself when it came to Jae Summers.

From the moment I first saw him in the pub, I became mesmerised. Everything about him drew me in. His masculine scent, the way his body towered over mine, the curls in his hair. would never in a million years dream of talking to someone I didn't know, but from the moment I heard his voice and saw the twinkle in his eyes from the opposite side of the room, I knew I needed to know him.

Plucking up the courage, I slowly start to lift my head. That's when I notice the tears dropping from his chin,

One, two, three.

They drop in slow motion, almost as if they were taunting me. I panic, shutting my eyes again.

I hate it when he cries, even more so when he's crying because of me. A large amount of guilt washes over me. I told him I wouldn't cry; I said I understood that he had to leave. I do understand. But the pain in my heart came over me rapidly, unlike anything I had ever felt before.

"That's good. You're doing so good, pretty boy. Keep lifting your head up for me, show me your eyes, Dax," he whispers as he soothes me, rubbing my knees with his fingers in a circular motion.

I don't understand the huge amount of pain coming at me from all angles, it's as though it's coming at me with such force with only one aim, to shut me down.

But what I do understand is, I don't want to feel this pain anymore.

I feel exhausted, I feel lost. Non-existent.

Overwhelmed with hatred for the monster that resides in my head, making me feel so different from everyone else.

Deep down, I've been dreading this day for weeks. I just got good at putting a smile on my face and pretending like I was okay.

I became so good at saying I was okay, that I started to believe it myself.

His phone starts to ring, breaking the moment between us. He seems reluctant to answer but when I nod, he sighs and answers.

"Yeah, Noah, I know. Just give me five minutes, yeah? I can't leave him like this. Okay. Thanks, mate. I won't be long." He hangs up. "Pretty boy, I'm sorry. But I've got to go, Noah is outside. I don't want to leave you like this, I can't. Please."

Fuck, it's real.

He's really leaving me.

This was it; the last grain of sand had finally hit the bottom of the hourglass. Our time was up.

Everybody leaves.

He gently pries my hand from my knee, placing a kiss against my knuckles, slowly opening my hand, pulling against my fingers, one at a time.

"Here. Take these. It's my spare set. Come on, let's put them around your neck." I pull my other arm from around my knee, lifting my head up slightly, just enough for him to put whatever he is putting around my neck. I feel no need to check what it is, I trust him with my life. He gently puts the chain around, pulling it down so it's snug around my neck. Making sure not to tuck it into my shirt, he lifts my hand up slowly, fitting the charm hanging off into my palm, closing my fingers around it along with his own, sealing them round.

His dog tags.

Lifting my head up slowly, I stare at his eyes, his soft emerald eyes. The most alluring things I've ever seen. I try to ignore the reflection of myself inside of them. I know enough to know what I look like right now. Strands of my shaggy hair falling over my face, my eyes puffy from crying, my face sore from rubbing the tears away.

There are a million and one things I want to say right now, a million things I want to do. I want to beg him not to go, beg him not to leave. Hell, I'd even chain him to the bed if I could.

"Whenever things get too overwhelming for you, you squeeze these, yeah? You squeeze as hard as you can. You give me your worry, Dax; I will carry it for you. Let me carry it for you," he whispers, before placing a kiss on my right cheek. Without thinking, I lift my hand up to it. As though I'm cherishing it. Keeping it safe.

Scared to let it fade.

As much as I want to cry again, I don't. I attempt a face I hope looks brave. I don't want him to walk out the door with the last thing on his mind being me in tears looking up at him, so I take hold of the dog tags and squeeze.

"Good. You're doing so good, baby."

His phone rings again.

Please, no.

Don't leave me.

"Dax, I'm sorry, I need to go. Please remember what I said about the tags. Whenever you get overwhelmed, whenever you get sad, anything. You hold onto them, and you squeeze. You squeeze so hard, and you don't let go."

He puts his hand underneath my chin, pushing it up to look me in the eyes. I try to pull away, I hate the thought of him seeing me like this.

"So, fucking beautiful, Dax." Kiss. "I love you so much." Kiss. "I'm sorry I have to leave you, I wish I didn't have to." Kiss. "I'm already counting down the days until you're back in my arms." A final kiss.

He pulls himself away, I can hear the trembling in his voice.

I lift my head to watch the guy I'm in love with walk out the door and leave me.

I want to run after him.

But I can't.

Once he gets to the door, he turns around to face me, looking me in the eyes as he gives me a sad smile. Without saying anything more, he takes his hand and squeezes it around the dog tags around his neck. And then he opens the door, taking a step outside and closing it behind him.

And I don't know what else to do. I scream into the cold air on the floor of my living room and cry for everything I've lost until I fall asleep from fatigue, surrounded by nothing but darkness.

I wake with a sudden surge of panic. Panting. Unable to breathe. I quickly adjust myself, attempting to sit up straight, but I struggle as I try to regain my breath. My vision is already overtaken by a cloud of fog. Heartbeat pounding a million times a minute.

I try to scream, but no words come out. Throat feeling sore, feeling trapped. As though hands are placed over my mouth already.

Once I've stopped panicking and regain my focus, I wipe my hands on my bedsheets in hopes of getting rid of some sweat from my palms. But it doesn't work because my palms are still sweaty. Instead, I take hold of the chain around my neck, squeezing harder than ever before. Unsure of what else to do.

Looking over at the clock on the unit on my right side, I notice the time looking back at me, taunting me. 2am.

I should attempt to go back to sleep.

But there's only one place I want to go.

I decide to go talk to Mum.