3: Noah and the Boys

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Noah looked through every locker and hideout while he was bored. He was careless about the belongings he flung and disorganized; he was looking for a mobile device to call the cops. There ought to be one somewhere, here, anywhere! Anything with network bars will do, but preferably an iPhone, he thought desperately.

A series of steps approached the door and it flipped open, letting two teen boys drenched in sweat and stinking like poop in. Noah gagged at the smell. The boys didn't look surprised; rather, they held a uniform expression of anger when they saw the room in a mess. The first boy was slightly shorter than the second, he had rare sandy brown hair and honey brown eyes, a perfect match for his hair, unlike him the second had chocolate skin, and black kinky short hair that folded like wool, the boy looked young, the black boy looking older than the brunette.

"Go and get Raf," the brunette muttered to his Black mate, who was quick to leave. Noah stared the boy down unimpressed. Shortly after, a slightly taller boy with jet-black hair appeared, his eyes black and narrowing at Noah, who gave them a bored look.

"Why did you trash the room?" the boy asked, but Noah rolled his eyes and ignored him as he continued searching.

"I think he is dumb," said the brunette as they went to pick up their respective belongings.

"How dumb?" the black teen asked.

"That's harsh, Dhak," the brunette smiled evilly at him.

Noah furrowed his brows, "You obviously need a bath; that skin is too ugly, I mean if I looked like that I would never let anyone know I exist, no offense, Dark." He ranted, "And you must be suffering from visual impairment Brownie, and as for you, tall and tattooed, I don't give a shit," Noah retorted, and the room went silent.

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, getting their attention. It was a young man in his mid-twenties. "That's enough, pack up boys, and Noah, take a shower; they'll lend you a pair of trousers and a shirt," the man said. Noah took in his features; he had a very low-cut hairstyle, but his hair was clearly black, and his eyes were just as gray as Mr. Yaroslav's. He had the same slim face and tallness, with bulging hands and a tight chest, but it felt like he was a younger version of the man.

"Yes, sir," The boys responded, while Noah just stared at the beautiful and tough features of the man. He was a beautiful person and spookily had a similar scar on his left brow to Mr. Yaroslav.

"I don't want anybody's stinking clothes; they barely take a bath with how they're stinking. What if they have some infectious disease?" Noah whined.

Rafael rolled his eyes as he brushed his hair with his fingers. Then Dhak said, "Come on, Brown, let's do this and leave; he is not worth it, and Avgustin would handle it. Mr. Yaroslav won't care to know. Don't get in a mess now."

The boys finished packing and left while Avgustin stayed back. He closed the door gently behind them while staring at his hands as he approached Noah. When he looked up and their gaze locked, Noah was faced with an icy gray stare just like Mr. Yaroslav's. He cringed for a moment before regaining his composure.

"If I were you, I'd take a shower while I still can and keep my mouth shut," he threatened in a cold tone, Noah frowned with a stubborn pout.

"The bathroom is in the cabin outside. Hurry," he glanced at his watch, "you have one hour." With that, he left.

Noah felt submerged in fear, so he pulled himself together and went out of the room and down the stairs. The front door was not hard to find, so he went through it into the cold and snowy lawn. He braced himself, returning back indoor and deciding against stepping back out.

"I used to have the most expensive winter coat," he muttered to himself. "I can't have a shower; it is too cold, and I'll fall sick," he continued. He balled his fist as he fought back tears. He thought to himself painfully, maybe I can run away while I still can.

Days Are NumberedDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora