Page 102 of Total Creative Control

“That’s what I do!” Lewis spat, pulling away. His face was ravaged, eyes like bruises. “I leave people, Aaron. I leave people who need me, and I don’t give a fuck about it afterwards. So you… You should just…”

Aaron couldn’t help himself. He surged forward and put his arms around Lewis, pulling him close. “It’s okay,” he said fiercely, holding him tight. “It’s okay. Come on.”

At first, Lewis resisted, staying stiff as a board in Aaron’s arms, but gradually, his shuddering breaths calmed, and he began to unbend, letting his forehead sink down onto Aaron’s shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, Aaron gently stroking his back.

“I can’t give you what you need,” Lewis said eventually, brokenly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Aaron’s throat ached, his eyes hot with tears. He tried to blink them away before Lewis noticed. “All right,” he said. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t be the man you want.”

Aaron didn’t answer. Lewis was already the man he wanted, for all the good that did.

“Listen,” he said, pulling away but keeping his hands on Lewis’s shoulders. “Sit down, okay? Have some tea before you go. I’ll get you some toast.”

Lewis shook his head, swiped at his eyes with the back of one hand. “Jesus,” he said, looking anywhere but at Aaron. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

He huffed but didn’t resist as Aaron guided him to the sofa and urged him to sit. Lewis sat, legs giving way abruptly, his head dropping into his hands. It took some willpower on Aaron’s part not to reach out and stroke his hair, but Lewis was fragile, and Aaron didn’t want to overstep.

Instead, he retreated to the kitchen. Their tea had cooled, so Aaron popped it into the microwave for a few seconds. Keeping one eye on Lewis, he warmed up the toast and spread it with butter and Nutella, piling it all onto a plate.

Returning to the living room, Aaron set the tea and toast down on the coffee table and took a seat in the chair opposite Lewis. Not a good idea to sit next to him right now, no matter how much Aaron longed to put an arm around those tense, unhappy shoulders.

After a couple of silent moments, Aaron said, “There’s Nutella,” and Lewis lifted his head.

His expression was harrowed, but there was a glint of something in his eyes that pierced Aaron with hope.

Lewis muttered, “I love fucking Nutella.”

“Who’d have thought?” Aaron tried not to let his smile wobble.

Still keeping his gaze averted, Lewis reached out for a slice of toast. It went down pretty fast. So did the second slice, and then Lewis picked up his tea and took a sip. Amazing, the power of a little tea and TLC—Aaron could actually see Lewis’s shoulders relaxing as he sat back on the sofa, finally looking up to meet Aaron’s gaze.

They weren’t easy eyes to meet, troubled and unhappy.

“Sorry,” Lewis said again. “I’ve fucked everything up.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I’m not usually this fucking dramatic.”

Aaron offered a slight smile. “In fairness, neither am I.”

Lewis sipped his tea, then frowned suspiciously. “Is there sugar—?”

“There’s two!”

A flicker of a smile briefly touched Lewis’s lips, before his expression clouded again. “I should get out of your hair. You have a thing today, right? A convention.”

“I do…” Aaron didn’t ask how Lewis knew. “It’s MTWCon—Meet the Writers.”

“Fanfic writers?”

“Yup, writers,” Aaron said lightly. “I’m on a panel, so… Yeah, I should probably get my head together.”