MARSH𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗢 | Theirs (BL)

THIRTEEN

(I'm just laying down on my bed in 2:55 am, typing in my phone, in the midnight where my mind find the vibEzzzz- thank you for the reads! And for the votes- I know there's not much of votes but I'm still thanking you all! Bcs It really means a lot to me.)

MARSHMALO| THEIRS

Locking himself up, not trying to leave his room as the days passed. He didn't mind starving himself as long as he could stay locked away from all of this. Elliott messed up his hair, dark circles under his eyes— he didn't feel alive; rather, he felt dead.

He was against the wall in the corner, being paranoid as he was, he even locked his window. Elliott had been thinking anxiously all day. He was extremely nervous about bumping into any of them. He couldn't be at ease, even in the house (of course, the house), it felt dangerous, especially since his uncle was just there— he never knew what he was up to.

The bathroom, the balcony, even the kitchen—they all tempted to end his paranoia and existence altogether.

He got startled when he heard a knock on his door.

"I'm going out, I'm just letting you know, Elli..."

How kind of him to let him know that he's going out. It'll make him feel relaxed a bit, but not entirely at ease because of his paranoia. With that, he heard his uncle's footsteps walk away. He sat still and waited for a minute before crawling on all fours, slowly making his way towards the door. As he twisted the knob and slightly opened the door, his uncle probably finally went out.

He was debating with himself whether to stay locked up in his room or do something, then he stood up and instantly headed downstairs, only to encounter a cold and quiet atmosphere. So, his uncle really did go out. Despite the feeling of standing in the living room giving him shivers down his spine, remembering when his uncle said that there's a camera installed in the living room. It's either he's being watched right now or it's just left on.

With that, he ran back to his room, taking a U-turn, and went to the bathroom, securely locking it, just in case someone came in.

Then he let out a frustrated sigh. He looked at his bandaged wrist. "I should've brought the cutter..."

_

"They're waiting for you in the living room," the butler said. Rhys just wanted to scoff, but right now, he has to remain composed because it's either he's going to get killed or threatened.

Should he get nervous? Anxious? Scared? He doesn't know what to feel.

As his feet dragged him to the living room, he stopped in his tracks when he finally stood there, seeing the three brothers—or, as he called them, devils.

"Oh, you're here," the black, curly-haired boy said, looking at him, making the auburn-haired male turn around from the long couch. He glanced to the side where the single couch is placed, as usual, Damian is sitting there with his eyes closed, leaning against the leather.

He walked closer to them but kept his distance, not bothering to sit down because he felt like he shouldn't sit down in this kind of situation. "About Oliver..." Damian started as he opened his eyes. "Should we kill him?"