My Whipping Boy

ChApTeR TWOOOOOOOOOOO

At last! It's here! for all 2 of you who read it xD sorry for such a long time to do it

sorry it's so pitiful and short :'( I have no inspiration/motivation for anything and nothing seems to work and make me happy! waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

:* make me a happy boyyyyyy~

Rylan’s pov…. (a feeble attempt atleast lool)

I don’t remember it much… getting here I mean. I remember being half carried, half dragged away by weak little arms… and I remember the mind-numbing pain searing through me with each lick of the whip.

  That was a feeling I’ve known all too well. Having my flesh torn apart by that dreaded leather and barb, being put on display as though my humiliation and suffering were an enjoyable spectacle on a leisurely Sunday afternoon. It’s sickening really.

Another thing I have become familiar with is the plush, downy feel of Char’s bed. I stretch my fingers out and grab a fistful of his duvet, letting out a painful groan in the process.  I feel a small soft hand gingerly touch my bare shoulder and I instinctively flinch as pain barrels through the tender flesh. Quickly the hand is withdrawn and I hear Char’s sputtering voice.

“R-ry? A-a-are you… p-please wake up?...  I… I’m so sorry” he wailed helplessly and fat hot tears pelted my back. As the salty drops slide across the raw wounds on my back I hiss a bit in pain, and at the sudden signs of life Char wastes no time in clutching my large rough hand in between his tiny, silken ones.

I flutter my eyes open and Char’s face is unexpectedly close. His hot breath dances around my face everytime he exhales. He gives a relieved look and I smile back as best I can manage. “Ry! I was so worried and so stupid! I fell for Lucien’s ploy! I fell for it and since I’m such an idiot… you… this…” his voice trailed off in a whimper and fresh tears jolted from his puffy eyes.

Gently, I gave his hands a firm squeeze. “Shh, it’s fine Char, I’m fine… you’re not an idiot, stop crying please? Please, for me, stop crying?” I pleaded. I can’t stand to see you hurt… let alone cry. Please for me?  “F-fine” he sniffles and takes back one of his hands to wipe away his tears. I withdraw my hand from his and move about in attempts to get up, trying my best to ignore the searing pain, but Char is having none of that.

“What?! Stop it Ry! What’re you doing, just lay down! I, ummm, yeah! Lay back down, I have to tend to your wounds!” He says looking pleased with himself. He can be a weirdo sometimes but I love it.  Now he’s got that worried look on him again… I need to fix that.

A little teasing should work… “Mmmm, tend to my wounds Char? Are you going to lick them better like a good little kitty?” I wish. I give him a cocky smirk and his fair complexion explodes in a fury of crimson. Cue his embarrassed sputtering.

“I-I, uh, um… N-no! I-I’m not l-l-licking-g y-you! H-how c-can you s-say t-that so s-seriously!?” He manages to squeak after a minute.  His whole being is flustered and his eyes seem interested in everything in the room except for me. He’s too cute.  Mmmm, and yes I realize those are the thoughts of a ‘sinner’ but who gives a damn! I see nothing wrong with it, but I’m bound to be strung up for something, so why not love!? Although, I can never admit it to anyone… if the wrong people were to find out Char would be in danger… if Char were to find out… he’d be disgusted… he’d string me up himself I bet.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I feel Char’s thumb gliding over my cheek. “Ry… is everything okay?” His brows are slightly furrowed and his eyes are boring right into mine. “Mmm, I’m fine Char… you know you don’t ever have to worry about me.” I give him a whole-hearted smile. I like that he cares… or seems to care… it makes my heart flutter. He is my only source of happiness. I’ll endure anything so long as I can stay by his side.

“Maybe you’re the idiot, Ry. You’re my friend, of course I’m going to worry over you! Now… just lay here and relax I’m going to clean you up.” I do exactly as he says, no fight, no smart remarks. I just lay there, wincing every now and again from the sting of a disinfectant, but perfectly content with this perfect boy’s careful hands running along my skin.