Black And White

Forty Five

Mitch was rushing around Scott's house cleaning up as much as he could.

Scott was finishing up lunch, though Mitch learned that he cooked in total silence whereas Mitch had been listening to music.

When Mitch was picking up a few water bottles from Scott's room, he heard Scott shout once, and he froze because he truly wasn't sure if he'd heard what he thought he heard.

Scott shouted again though. "Fuck."

Mitch then hurried into the kitchen, setting the plastic bottles on the counter. "Scott, what--?"

Scott was holding his finger close to his chest. "Nothing, I'm sorry."

Mitch frowned at him, walking over calmly and pulling on Scott's wrist to look at his finger. "Oh, honey..."

Scott tried to take his hand back. "It's not a big deal. Go back to my room, or whatever."

"It's okay. Are your band-aids still above the sink in your bathroom?"

"I can get it."

"No, I'm getting it."

"No. You're not." Mitch grabbed a paper towel and handed it over. "Hold this against it, and I'll be right back."

Scott took the towel, but walked past Mitch. "I said I'll get it."

"Just sit down or something."

Scott flipped around. "Mitchell, I said--!" He stopped quickly, when Mitch flinched at his tone. Scott exhaled loudly, looking down at the ground. "Honey... I'm sorry..."

Mitch's eyes were wide but he took a step forward and placed his hand on Scott's chest. "Don't yell at me, please. You're hurt, just... Sit on the counter, and I'll be right back."

Scott obeyed him without a word, feeling terrible for having raised his voice.

Mitch came back a minute later, to see Scott slouching in his seat. "Don't be like that, Scott. It's okay, babe."

"It's not. I shouldn't have yelled. I.. I was hurting, and frustrated, but you didn't deserve that."

Mitch began working on his finger, first cleaning out the small scrape as he stood between Scott's knees. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I forgive you."

Scott pouted and looked down at his hand as it was being worked on.

"I see you pouting up there. Stop it." Mitch said softly, now bandaging it up.

Scott only hummed.

Mitch finished working on his finger, before leaning down to kiss the bandage. "Feel better, babe?"

"Mhmm... Sorry."

Mitch grabbed Scott's uninjured hand to hold. "Stop apologizing. It's fine. What even happened?"

"I was literally almost done; Just cutting your sandwich. And I cut my finger on accident."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're okay now, though? What do you say we go out for dinner?"

Scott glanced up at him with puppy dog eyes. "Can we get Chinese food?"

"Absolutely. But for now, I wanna eat your super delicious sandwiches."

"I'm not really hungry."

Mitch squeezed his hands. "Stop doing that. I'm not upset with you, babe. You got mad, and you yelled. So what?"

"You didn't deserve to be yelled at. I know better than that; I'm not my father, and I'm not your father... And I'm sorry."

Mitch finally sighed in defeat. "I forgive you, sweetie. I do. It's totally okay."