TRIGGER WARNING : talks about cutting, talks about mental/verbal abuse, suicidal thoughts, swearing
ANGST ANGST ANGST AngSt aNgsT
ANGSTY FLUFF

Remy POV
In about ten minutes, I pulled into Emile's driveway. I hope he's okay with the motorcycle.

I headed up to the front door and knocked. A few seconds later, a man opened the door. He had pale brown eyes like Emile's, but with dark brown hair. He had glasses too.

This must be Emile's Dad. Great... I've never met this guy before.

"Um, hey, is Emile here?" I asked, silently begging Emile to show up.

"I'm Mr. Picani," The man said. "I'm guessing you're Remy? Emile's boyfriend?"

"Uh, yeah, that's me," I said with an uncomfortable laugh. Mr. Picani looked me up and down.

"Dad stop!" Came Emile's voice, and then he came running down the hall. "You're gonna scare him off or embarrass me or something!"

"Sorry Emile," Mr. Picani said with a smile and soft laugh. "I'll leave your boyfriend alone," He teased Emile kindly. A stab of pain went through my heart upon seeing how Emile and his dad got alone.

I don't even know who my dad is. And Mom isn't much of a mom anyways.

Emile pushed himself past his dad and stood next to me. He smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Emile better by back by, at latest, midnight," Mr. Picani told me.

"Don't worry," I told him. "I'll take good care of Emile."

"Okay, that's enough of that!" Emile said giggling, waving bye to his dad and than pushing me away from the front door. "Byeeeee!"

I laughed at his behavior. He's too precious.

"That excited to be alone with me?" I teased, causing him to flush bright red. Messing with Emile is so much fun.

"Oh stop it," He grumbled.

"You love me," I teased back.

"I think that was the first time I've seen you act so...formal and actually flustered." Emile said with a laugh.

"Well, I don't need ya Dad on my back about how I'm treating you," I answered, leading him down to my motorcycle. "And he's scary," I mumbled, causing Emile to laugh.

"A motorcycle?" Emile asked, looking uncertainly at it.

"What's wrong with it?"  I asked. 

"They're dangerous."

"Only if you don't know how to ride one properly,"  I told him.  "Don't worry, I can drive one babes." 

I helped Emile into the motorcycle and then climbed on myself.  Emile wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. 

"Don't you have a helmet or something?"  He muttered.

"Nope,"  I said, popping the 'p'.  "Sorry."

Emile sighed and I could feel him shaking his head. 

"Hold on,"  I told him as I kicked up the kickstand and started driving.  Emile tightened his grip on me as we drove. 

It took a while, roughly twenty five minutes, but eventually we reached where I wanted to go. 

The town was surrounded by a forest.  About a half mile into that forest, was a large cliff overlooking the river.  I liked to hide up there whenever things got too bad at home.

I've never shown anyone this place before.  But I trust Emile enough to share it with him. 

I parked my motorcycle in the parking lot and helped Emile off.  I pulled an old blanket out of the little compartment. I grabbed Emile's hand and started walking towards the path into the forest. 

"Is it safe to be going into the woods this late at night?"  Emile asked, glancing towards the setting sun. 

"Don't worry babes,"  I told him, peeking a kiss on his cheek.  "I won't let anything happen to you."

Emile smiled softly but didn't say anything else.  Though I did notice his worried expression growing as we went off the path and started heading up a steep hill

"Woah,"  Emile breathed once we reach the top of the rocks.  The sun setting had lit up the tops of the trees.  You could see almost the entire forest from this vantage point.

The sound of the river flowing through some rapids below the overhang lifted up to where we were standing. 

"This place is beautiful,"  Emile said with a small smile. 

"Not as beautiful as you,"  I murmured, wrapping my arms around his waist.  Emile flushed a bright red.

I placed the blanket on the ground before sitting on it. I motioned for Emile to come sit with me.

Emile curled up against me and we watched the sun set together.  I let my mind wander again.

Why does Emile like me?  I'm such a fuck up.  A bad person. 

He's so nice and caring and perfect.  And I'm not. 

This led to thoughts of Emile's home life.  A life I wish had.  The life that I craved.  The acceptance from family.  The care and genuine love. 

I couldn't help but compare it to my home life.  An unloving mother that would leave me alone when I was younger to fend for myself.  Who got wasted and high almost every night.  Who forced all her own insecurities onto me.  Where there was never any certainty when or what the next meal was going to be. 

"Remy...you're crying,"  Emile said, brushing a tear off my cheek.  I looked over at him, only just now feeling the tears slowly falling down my cheeks.

"What's wrong?"  He asked gently.  That gentle look in his eyes.  The look that held so much love and comfort.  The soft brown eyes with so much compassion and happiness in them.

The same eyes I fell for three years ago when I first met Emile.

"Why do you like me?"  I asked, my voice cracking as the tears only increased. 

Emile frowned, his eyes filling with sadness.  He leaned over and kissed me deeply.  I could feel the love behind the kiss.

"Remy, I love you,"  Emile told me.  "You mean so much to me.  There's a thousand reasons as to why I love you." 

"But why,"  I choked out, feeling all my walls crumbling down.  I let the mask fall away.  The mask that portrayed a sassy, confident, gay, carefree, bad boy.  And let the real me in; a terrified, hurt, sad, boy. 

"I'm such a fucking mess and mistake.  You're so nice and funny and sweet and lovable and amazing.  But I'm just...me.  Rude, mean, stupid-" 

"Amazing, handsome, strong, brave,"  Emile interrupted me.  "Listen to me Remy, you are not a mistake and you are not any of those mean things you said about yourself."

"But..."

"No buts,"  Emile cut me off.  "I love you for you." 

"But why,"  I couldn't help but ask.  "I'm such a mess."

"So am I,"  Emile argued.  "We can be messes together." 

"You don't understand Emile,"  I mumbled. 

"Than tell me,"  He said.  "Tell me so I can help you." 

"You'd hate me," 

"I don't think I will," 

"Why do you think I never take you to my house?"  I asked him. 

"But when you confessed to me-"

"No one else was there,"  I finished for him.  I watched as Emile looked at me in confusion until it clicked in his brain. 

"Remy...are you parents..."  Emile was very obviously struggling over the word. 

"My mom,"  I answered.  "I don't even know who my dad is.  She doesn't either.  She's not a good mom.  Today was the first day she hit me." 

Emile pulled me into a tight hug, holding my head against his chest.  I hugged him back tightly, breathing in his scent. 

"I'm so so so so so so sorry Remy,"  Emile said, his voice soft but I could tell he was trying not to cry.  "You don't deserve that." 

"But I do," 

"No one deserves that,"  He told me forcefully. 

I just nodded, not wanted to argue with him. 

"You said she's never hit you until today,"  Emile started.  "Was a verbal abuse than?" 

"I guess,"  I mumbled.  "She calls me a mistake, worthless, a freak, a faggot, the bane of her existence, the reason her life is a mess." 

"None of that is true,"  Emile told me, peppering kisses across my face.  Than I remembered the thing she would tell me that hurt the worst. 

"She told me I should kill myself,"  I whispered, a fresh wave of tears appearing.  Emile let out a soft gasp.  "That everyone would be happier without me.  That she would be happier if I was dead." 

"Are you suicidal Remy?"  Emile asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

I didn't want to answer.  I don't want to lie to Emile.  He needs to know the truth.  But the truth would hurt him.  What if he hates me for this. 

Apparently my silence was enough of an answer for Emile.  He started crying. 

"Remy...please tell me the truth,"  Emile said, his voice thick with tears.  Without saying anything, I pulled down the sleeves of my leather jacket.

Now revealed, were little red bloody lines down my forearms.  White scars against my more tan skin were visible beneath the fresher cuts. 

"Remy, Remy listen to me"  He said, making me face him.  "Please don't kill yourself, I am begging you, please don't do that.  Please don't hurt yourself.  I can't loose you.  I love you, I don't want you hurting yourself.  Please Remy stop doing this." 

There was a broken, hurt look in Emile's eyes now.  Gone we're the happy, compassionate ones.  Now replaced with sad ones full of raw hurt emotion. 

Emile was just rambling, his face blotchy and red from the tears.  I'm sure I didn't look any better. 

I cut off his rambling by placing a soft kiss to his lips.  I kept my forehead against his, looking into his soft brown eyes.

"I have you now,"  I mumbled.  "You give me hope." 

"I love you so much Remy,"  Emile told me.  "I love you." 

"I love you too,"  I told him. 

Emile pulled me into a tight hug, burying his face in my neck.  I pulled him into my lap, tightly wrapping my arms around him.  I in return buried my face in his neck. 

We stayed there.  Just crying, comforting each other for hours.  I don't even remember falling asleep.