Part 24 John’s POV:
He tries to catch his breath, gasping for more air, more oxygen. His eyes are teary, and he is not fully conscious of what he is doing, as he trails his fingertips over Paul’s wrist, his lower arm, where he senses a strong pulsing movement take place under the skin.
It’s the poison, he realizes at once.
No, no, no, he does not want to do this, he CANNOT do this - HOW would he even be…?
Eyes and nose are running uncontrollably, and all John sees is a colorful blur behind the tears, as he repeats his apologies to Paul - I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry --
He tries to resist the final decision; the point where he knows he cannot go back and undo it.
What if this is not what is meant by the heart and th-- No.
This IS it.
John just knows.
This is the lesson, the creatures behind this has been trying to teach him.
About taking the risk.
It does not matter if John thinks that it does not prove a point at all.
The extreme circumstances do not matter.
Everything is boiled down to Paul’s trembling body that is going to be eaten up from the inside if he does not do anything.
His hands are shaking, as they lightly stroke the sweat-soaked fabric of Paul’s shirt.
A shutter makes the shoulder blades spike up, making John whisper “calm down, no, don’t be scared of me, it is just me, it is just me…”
That mantra stays with him, as he strokes as gently as he can, up and down, up and down Paul’s back.
It is then that he realizes the cut that has been made in Paul’s trousers. Neatly, discreetly around his buttocks.
John’s lips are trembling, as if he wants to say something without knowing exactly what it is.
He reaches for a piece of the broken mirror - the room is spinning around as he bends down and grabs it, squeezes it until the blood is running from his palm and down over his wrist and arm.
This is about taking the risk.
The risk of letting Paul finally know.
He better make it fucking count.