Your Not Hurting Me This Time Novels & Stories

" This is the question that has been bothering me. I desperately wanted to know if it was him who had been silently helping me. "No." He denies. I sighed regretfully. Turns out I was overthinking it, and it was probably all just a coincidence. Whatever the reason, the fact that I won't be sold out for a while is the best news. "From now on, I won't allow you to get hurt again. Understand?" he said, looking at me seriously. I always get hurt and bring him a lot of trouble. How could he possibly tolerate the trouble I caused without a bottom line? "I won't cause any more trouble." I said.

“Not now.” I looked at him, once again trying to understand what was going on. “What do you want from me?” “Timmy…” I started, but he cut me off, coming even closer, making our breathing mingle. “No.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a laugh of amusement. It was bitter. “I'm not going to let you go this time. I already let you go once, remember? I watched from afar as you walked away, while other guys took my place. I was a good friend, okay? I stayed away even when it hurt. Because it hurt, baby. Much worse than being shot, and I can say that for sure, because I've been shot.”

"No, I'm not dealing with the physical pain. However, this slight pain is nothing compared to the pain and fear I felt when I discovered you were not where you were supposed to be, and you could be hurt or in danger. If I can handle that, you can handle this," he reminded me gruffly.

Into whatever hurt or love we would find next. And for the first time in a very long time… I wasn't scared anymore. Because I had him. And he had me

"I never meant to hurt you." I shook my head slowly, trying to offer him a reassuring smile, though it probably wasn’t as convincing as I wanted it to be. "It’s not your fault, Alex," I replied quietly. "I’m just... not used to it, that's all." His expression remained worried, but he didn’t push the subject further. Instead, he placed his hand gently on mine, his touch warm and comforting. "I didn’t think it would affect you like this," he murmured, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t want to hurt you."

"I'm sorry… I have no idea that you've gone through so much." I nodded curtly. "It doesn't matter." His eyes suddenly lit up, full of hope. "So… Does that mean you'll forgive me? Do we still have a chance…?" "You're so disgusting," I spat, my face etched with repulsion. I didn't let him dream, not even for a second.

“You know, you shouldn't be too nice to me. You could get hurt.” He noticed I still had no plans to get up, so he pulled me up, and he led me out in the most graceful way. “There's no greater hurt than what you've already put me through, so don't worry about me.”

The version that holds him off long enough. "I am going to tell you everything," I say before he gets there. "Just not tonight. Tonight I need to think and you need to sleep and neither of those things happen if we have the full conversation right now." He looks at me. "You are okay," he says. Not quite a question. "I am okay," I confirm. "Nobody hurt you." "Nobody hurt me significantly," I say. Which is true. The situation was controlled enough that significant hurt was not part of it.

I didn’t have an answer. Because there wasn’t one. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said again. “You won’t.” “I already did.” “That wasn’t you.” “That doesn’t make it better!” My voice cracked. Because it didn’t. It made it worse. Because if it wasn’t me… Then what was it? And how long before it completely takes over? “I need to understand what’s happening,” I said more quietly. “And I need you to stay alive while you figure it out,” he replied.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” “You won’t.” “You don’t know that.” “I do.” “How?” I looked up at him. “Because if you really were going to hurt me, you wouldn’t be shaking.” He froze. His fingers twitched. He looked down at his own hands, like he hadn’t noticed the tremor until now. He turned away sharply. “I’m fine.” “You’re not.” “I said I’m fine.” “No, you’re not,” I insisted. “You’re still in that moment. You’re still hearing the gun go off. You’re still trying to come down from it.”