Page 259 of Fragments

What if he’s really gone…?

I don’t want to live in this world without him. I can’t imagine breathing air into my fucking lungs, knowing he’s not doing the same.

I just don’t want to be alive if he isn’t…

My chest is hollow, the weight of all this somber doubt and insecurity filling my limbs, crushing my shoulders down until it’s difficult to even lift my head. But I manage it, just enough movement to slowly peek over at Lex’s house again.

It’s a cute house. Not huge, just average. It’s not a grandiose palace of wealth and snobbery like my home in Manhattan was. It’s exactly the type of place someone like Lex would have grown up in. I can almost picture him outside as a little kid, running around while his dad sprayed him with a hose in between washing his car.

Lex told me his dad loved his old Mustang he restored… It wasn’t a hobby Lex shared, being a total nerd and all, but still. I know he loved his parents, and I know they loved him too. It’s obvious, just from how sweet, and caring and well-adjusted he is.

The fact that his parents still live in the house they shared as a family, even after Lex was arrested, orkilled, as far as they probably know… it shows that they don’t want to erase him from their memory. If anything, they’re clinging to him, just like I am.

I sit in this spot for a very long time, watching Mr. and Mrs. Deon come and go. It aches my heart how much Lex’s dad looks like him. His mother is very pretty, but I see more of Lex in Dennis. The hair color, and the eyes. Honestly, if this is any glimpse into what Lex will look like in his forties, I’d be incredibly luck to grow old with him.

He’s definitely a DILF.

The thought brings a chuckle up my throat, but it gets lodged when reality hits. And I just continue to stare.

His parents look like nice people; down to earth, loving… normal. Pretty much the polar opposite of my parents. My parents would probably scoff at them, talk down to them for not being rich, like it makes them lepers or something.

Thank God those pricks are dead…

I could only imagine Lex and I trying to introduce our families. Beth and Kenneth Xavier’s smug indifference being met by Marla and Dennis Deon’s kindness.

Mom blathering about their latest trip to Saint-Tropez, Dad asking Dennis about his investment capital, while Lex and I snicker and hold hands under the table…

My lips twitch, loving the little picture I’m making in my head so much that my chest throbs and I whine from the pain.

It’ll never happen… My parents are dead.

And Lex might be too.

This agony makes me want to jump out of the car and run up to Lex’s parents. I just want to introduce myself… tell them that I’m their son’s boyfriend, and that I love him very much. That he’s not dead… At least, he wasn’t. Not before, when we met. He wasalive, and we fell in love, despite how terrible our surroundings were, and how much pain I put him through.

I need them to know that their son is a fuckingmiracle. I want to thank them for bringing such a beautiful soul into this world… Someone with the patience to deal with the chaos I am.

But it would just scare the shit out of them… Bring up more questions I can’t answer.

God, I hate this so much. I’ve never felt more like a useless waste of oxygen than I do right now.

Being that I have nowhere else to go, I end up watching the house for longer than I intended. Enough that I learn their schedules. So when Mr. Deon goes to work, and Mrs. Deon follows only thirty minutes later, I make my first actual move in days, and climb out of the car.

Their neighborhood is pretty quiet during the day, but I still make sure the coast is clear before scampering over to the house. I find a tree in the backyard that’s perfect for climbing onto the roof, and manage to jimmy open a window, maneuvering my way inside. Glancing around, I find myself in a bedroom. And I know immediately, without a second of thought, that it’s Lex’s.

The walls are painted hunter green, adorned with posters. Mötley Crüe and Superman…Lex’s favorites.Wandering over to a bookshelf, I admire the collection of graphic novels, books, and memorabilia. A perfectly preserved comic with Lex Luthor on the cover staring right back at me has me gulping down my sadness like bile.

I can’t believe I’m actually in Lexington’s bedroom right now. I can’t believe I’m here without him. It doesn’t make any sense… It just feels wrong.

Everything in his room is pristine, not a speck of dust to be found, which only confirms my suspicions. His parents left it like this, because they love their son, and they miss him terribly.

I know the feeling.

Shuffling over to his bed, I sit down slowly, and before I even know what I’m doing, I’m horizontal. Curled up in a ball with an exhausted, melancholy sigh, I stuff my face into his pillow. And I can’t evenfathomthat it still smells like him, but it does.

Tears fall from my eyes, soaking into the soft material.

“Baby, I don’t know how to do this without you…” I shudder, pulling the pillow and hugging it against my chest, squeezing it tight. “There is no me without you, Lexington.Pleasecome back to me…”