Paris sat on the bench as Jackson stood in front of him. The park was empty, only the scattered street lights casting a dim light where they were. Paris twirled a leaf that had fallen from the tree above them in his fingers.

          "Sit down. It's time to talk." Jackson said nothing but sat down, leaving a noticeable gap between them.

          "I really do pity you." Jackson glanced at him, a look of hidden anticipation. "You are put in a position you feel is unfair and then I come in and seem to be the perfect little release, no? I pity how stupid you are. I pity how much of a hypocrite you are. Sitting there like a victim and looking me in the eye like everything you did was acceptable because I learned about that part of you." Paris turned to look at Jackson in the eye, "Did you really think that everything would be okay after that? I know you are hurting and need help, but what gave you the right to treat innocent people like this. To treat me like this."

          Jackson looked away in shame. He knew that some of what he was doing was bad. Every time Paris flinched from his touched or tried to slowly leave the conversation, always made a part of him scream to let him go. It was just he couldn't get himself to. Paris was kind and so willing to help him. He was just like him, but perfect in every way he wasn't. No matter how much he wanted to he couldn't force Paris away from him. At this point, he wasn't even trying.

         "I don't want to run away again. I want closure. I want you to have closure." There was the kindness that attracted him in the first place. The golden heart he couldn't help but want to horde. No matter how much Paris showed disdain for him, he always came back. "I know that once I leave, someone else will suffer. I know that I know that if I stay nobody will be happy."

          "You could learn to be happy. We could be happy together. We just have to keep tryi-" he was cut off by the stinging pain on his cheek. He looked up to Paris towering above him. His gaze was cold, like winter bringing a chilling silence over a forest. Nothing, but the whistle of the wind could be heard.

          "Stop talking. I never want you to ever utter those words near me." Jackson slowly nodded, shaken. "Happy? Do you even know how to feel happy? I can tell you that you aren't happy. You are obsessed. It's not making you happy it's simply a distraction from your misery. You know deep inside you aren't happy, just mildly content and your standards are so low that you think it's fine. I'm not helping you because I think you are some misunderstood victim that just needs love like he did. I'm helping you because it save the other people like me, the struggle of dealing with an abusive relationship they see in movies."

          Jackson sat there quietly, finally allowing the voice in his head to talk. Denial was no longer an option.