•3• // Complications With Feelings

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.snoitseuq oN .wonk ot deen uoy lla s'taht dna ,reffid ot sekil eH .serised sih ro mih wonk ot uoy tnaw t'nseod eh ,lleW

LAURENS, THIRD POV

John pressed his hands against a bed next to his sides and stared at the carpet ahead of him. He remained stunned as his mind reiterated the events from yesterday. There was no other way to describe the flood of emotions.

The realization hit him like a bundle of bricks. He was nearly raped. If it hadn't been for Hamilton, the situation would've traumatized him for a very long period of time. Or perhaps he wouldn't have been ever to be able to recover.

Besides the flashbacks, questions stirred in his head. It bothered him. Why would Hamilton do something so caring? Or did he even care? Did he witness it and felt the need to interfere?

His questions were left without further thought as he heard the door open with a creak. Hamilton held two glasses of water, and handed one of them to John. He turned to leave, but John refused to let the door close.

"Wait, please," he held his hand up, "Can I talk to you just for at least several minutes?"

Hamilton faced John and stared at him blankly. He hesitated before letting let out a sigh and taking a seat on the bed next to him. John finally let the question slip.

"Why?" John asked quietly, "Why did you do that?"

Hamilton sipped his water before answering, "Why did you go to the party?"

John became wrapped up in confusion. "Why would you ask me something like that? I mean, of course I would go. He's my boyfriend," he paused for a brief moment and rested his eyes on Hamilton, "If anything, I should be asking you that question. Why were you at the party? He doesn't really... like you. And why did you interfere—"

"Stop. Talking."

John closed his mouth immediately and had no intention to reopen it. Something about Hamilton's tone caused his stomach to toss and turn. He felt intimidated, and he really hadn't felt it that immensely for a long period of time.

"You're asking too many questions," Hamilton explained, "and I'm not going to answer any of them." He gulped down the remaining water in the cup.

John wanted to ask, but he knew he didn't have enough guts to. Why was he being so obedient? It's not like Hamilton could do anything to harm him. Well, he harmed him with his looks if that counted—

"You're staring," Hamilton remarked, holding out his hand. "Give me your phone."

John blinked. Although his parents were wealthy, including his own boyfriend, his phone was very outdated with limited functions. The most useful feature was simply its primary feature, calling. That's the sole reason why his parents ever gave him a phone anyway. He was shut out of social media.

If his parents ever found out that John gave his phone to another individual, they would surely reprimand him. John hesitated, but eventually responded.

"No," he shook his head, "I'm not permitted to do that. My pa—"

"Give it."

"I already rejected you," John narrowed his eyes. "Stop forcing me to oblige to something I haven't consented to."

"I'm not forcing you," Hamilton opposed, "I'm asking you without babying you like everyone else."

John didn't want to advance the argument. He pulled out his device and placed it in Hamilton's hand. Somehow, Hamilton was able to unlock it in only two attempts.

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