MARSH𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗢 | Theirs (BL)

🌼FOUR▫️▫️

(reminder: there's a brand name that I just made up(･–･) \(･◡･)/ okAy?)

MARSHMALO | Theirs

Their/Theirs

adjective
\ t͟hər, ˈt͟her  \
Definition
1: of or relating to them or themselves especially as possessors,

"Please, no! Don't touch me! D-don't hurt me!" cried 13-year-old Elliott as he tried to break free from the man's grasp. "Shhhh..." the man shushed him softly, paying no heed to the crying boy's attempts to escape. The boy's strength was weak compared to the man's. "I won't hurt you, Li," the man said, using the nickname he had given him. Elliott thrashed around as the man tied his wrists to the metal headboard. "Please! No-" Elliott gasped as the man wrapped his hand around his neck, cutting off his air supply. "Stop struggling, Li, you'll only end up hurting yourself."

"P-please... don't."

"M-mom, please help!"

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Elliott cracked his eyes open, with dry tears on his cheeks and panting. He was having a nightmare again. Then he felt someone softly nudge him, "Hey Elli, are you okay? You've been crying and murmuring in your sleep." Rhys was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him worriedly. Elliott groaned as he sat himself up, leaning his back against the headboard. He was lost in his own space, zoning out. Rhys sighed as he scooted beside Elliott and embraced him. He slightly rocked him side to side, and Elliott breathed out, letting himself be engulfed by the warmth of the hug.

"You should sleep for now-"

"I'm okay. I have to go, I shouldn't miss any lessons," Elliott said, feeling the warmth before pulling himself together. Rhys wasn't convinced by his words, but he respected his nephew's decision. Rhys nodded, "Eat something before you go out, okay? It's not good for your health if you keep skipping breakfast or meals." With that, Rhys turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Elliott bit his lower lip, muttering, "I don't need to be told..." with a hint of frustration.

Despite not wanting to upset Rhys, he followed the advice and had his breakfast before heading out. He took a deep breath on his way inside the building, keeping himself distanced from the other students. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, making him jolt, "What the-"

“Hey, it’s me. Owen,” Owen greeted him with a sweet smile. Elliott’s cheeks turned crimson red, “H-hi,” he stuttered, shyly looking down at his shoes to avoid Owen’s eyes. Owen chuckled and ruffled his hair, his smile widening. “Come on,” Owen said as he interlocked their arms and they walked together side by side.

Elliott never felt this way before. How come he feels butterflies in his stomach? He knows he's attracted to boys, but he's still getting to know himself.

"Hey, Elliott..." Owen cleared his throat as he leaned closer to Elliott's ear. Elliott blushed, looking almost like a tomato. "Yeah?" he whispered, since they were still in the auditorium.

"Are you free this Saturday?"

Elliott's heart skipped a beat. "Y-yeah," he replied. It was supposed to be his 'sleep day,' but I guess he'll be out for a while.