The Remedy

We all have guilt. It just can't be all that we have.

Whether it's his training or his natural disposition, Deacon is charming. The kind of charming that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world who matters. Until you don't anymore.

The door partly opens, and Deacon rests his hip on the frame and looks me up and down as if he has no idea who I am. He's wearing gray sweatpants with CORVALLIS UNION HIGH SCHOOL printed up the leg, his hair all askew. He's shirtless, whether for effect or for comfort I'm not sure.

Deacon was good, too-almost as good as me. His charisma draws people in, even if it's only a facade.

Truth is, I don't know what Deacon wants anymore - it's not just physical. Whatever it is must scare him, though, and I'm the one who ends up getting hurt. So I make the concerted effort to resist his temptation, even if sometimes I'd like nothing more than to surround myself with his affection.