The Wrath Of The Ice King

37

Romeo exhaled with relief and horror.

Chris, dropping to his knees, looked at his two friends, one of which who he was betrayed by. Still, he was a victim to their knowledge, and he depended on their truth to be set free from the agony he was made to feel that evening. "Please" he mouthed at Alex, who stood frozen, looking at him with wide eyes. Blood has seeped through his shirt after being slammed into the way, and he felt the fabric stick to his back, limiting his movements as it caused him discomfort to move.

"Tell him," he said, no longer fighting against Romeo, who stood next to him, anger seeping out of his pores and out of his system only to be met with pure confusion. And hope.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, realizing that whatever outcome he was faced with, he would most probably lose Chris. To his own guilt or his own heartbreak. Either way, they were both victims of trauma, one haunted by his past, which was filled to the brink with untruthfulness and lack of trust, and one haunted by the present, not being able to believe that he was about to lose everything. If the two boys standing outside refused to speak the truth.

"Please," Chris sobbed out, wiping his puffy eyes. He had cried himself to death, and he was thirsty and cold and sad and angry. he was so angry that one man, who had almost stolen something precious from him forcefully, had also continued to haunt him ever after physically letting him go.

Chris' pleads snapped Alex out of his trace, who regretted ever leaving in the first place. His eyes roamed over Chris' body, which looked broken and abused, something a submissive under the care of a dominant such as Romeo should never look like. He looked as if someone had stolen the light in his eyes that everybody was so used to seeing.

Romeo tightly gripped Chris, not to hurt him or force him out, but to hold him up. If he had let go, the boy would have collapsed ages ago.

"We called you," Alex whispered, looking into Romeo's eyes, hope shining behind his own. He was here to save the day. My hero, or the messenger for my foreseen future filled with neverending guilt? If Chris had been innocent, now that Romeo had gone ballistic on him, uttered unforgivable words, and skinned his heart, Chris wouldn't be here tomorrow morning either way. Either willingly or unwillingly.

"I broke the phone," Romeo whispered back awkwardly, glancing at the broken shards that were once his form of communication. It had been ringing for minutes on end before he had decided to finally shut it the fuck up.

"We need to talk," Alex said slowly, holding Sage's hand tightly, who looked as if he had been crying. The submissive, the brat, and the backstabber had turned himself in? Or had he simply come up with a worse lie to finish what he started: to ruin Chris' life along with anybody he has ever loved. In Chris' eyes, he was pure evil.

Romeo stepped away from the doorway slowly, processing what was about to unravel. His eyes were wide and scared, and he let his two friends in along with the discomfort of truth. Alex shook his head, declining the invitation.

"No. We need to speak outside. It's urgent. Make sure no one hears us." Romeo's face hardened with that as he stood frozen for a second, not knowing what was going on and why these two had come back only to take him outside. Was the truth that hard to handle? What could have been worse than the pain he had felt for the past two hours?

He shook Chris off him before following his friends, who stopped him before he could make it out the door. "No, Chris needs to be with us as well."

Chris perked up, his tears slowing down at the mention of his name. He was wrong. They had come to do the right thing. Everything would be normal again. He would be laying next to Romeo soon, his head on the older boy's chest, listening to his comforting heartbeat. The biggest problem he was faced with would be what to have for breakfast the following morning or what color clothes he should pick out. The pain would stop. He would be loved again.