𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗥 | the boys 2

𝘹𝘷) 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

"Rowan? Are you okay?" A warm voice prompted her stomach to systematically squirm. Her eyes snapped down to the thick sheet, chest rising and falling at a slowly decreasing rate. 

"What are you... doing here?" Her face turned into a puzzled blend of horror, shock and reluctant disgust as a girl only a little older than she limped towards the bed, aided by a clicking crutch which was clearly not adjusted to her adolescent height.

"I heard they took you in here... so I came to find your room." Haley groaned and sat herself on the side of the lumpy mattress,"Fucking surgery got postponed so we had to move hospitals," She mumbled,"How are you feeling?"

"Why do you fucking care?" Rowan chuckled softly while picking at her fingertips. 

"Because I understand you've turned into a softie." 

"Don't tell me you've been talking to the old man." She grumbled. 

Haley smirked playfully, nudging her,"Hey, you two are adorable together. A pair of fucking maniacs, the both of you." They giggled together, leading Rowan to helplessly stare at her ex-classmate. No matter how much she despised her, she always thought Haley looked like one of the girls from the catalogues - with soft freckles dotted over her nose bridge and smooth, shiny hair like a field of barley. After staring at the younger for a little longer than usual, she grinned, while lifting Rowan's sheet up,"Come on, let's see the scar."

Rowan paused for a moment upon realising she wasn't just wearing the plain hospital gown, but also a pair of unorthodox track pants with elastic around the ankles. Butcher. That Goddamn man. Despite her deciding he was a mardy, old asshole, she couldn't help but really fucking love him, sometimes. 

"That's pretty impressive. Afraid I win, though." Haley began to lift her shirt up and turning away, prompting Rowan's face to heat up and brighten at least a few shades. The gown reached the back of her neck and an awful scar was revealed - green, purple, cracks and rashes. "I feel so fucking ugly." She whimpered, despite the fact she had clearly come to terms with the damage.

Rowan was stuck in her position, laid helplessly in the elevated bed with her autumn eyes glazed over and rosy lips carved into dazed, distracted smile,"It's fucking diabolical." Haley looked over the embarrassed blush on the brown-haired girl's cheeks as her gaze finally fell to her hands once more, pulling the thick, cosy sheet back up,"Why aren't you scared of me?" She murmured cautiously. 

The blonde forced her bright eyes upon her shy expression and offered her a kind smile. But the pity was not lost on her whatsoever. Rowan hated being pitied, she loathed sitting in this bed and soaking up all the sympathy. However, she had no choice. So she bit her lip and sucked it up. 

"Rowan, you haven't changed a day in ten years." She sighed,"I look at you and I see the same dirty, troubled little kindergartener. Stripy sleeves... messy sneakers... knotty hair and grubby little cheeks. Still ready to murder the masses for this mismatched, handful of boys you're hell-bent on protecting." Haley beamed, shaking her head slightly as the girl curled up cutely beneath her uncomfortably shuffled and gently raised her hand to her mouth in pure shell shock and disdain. 

Not particularly wanting to upset her for once, Graham gave a polite coo and invasively put her hand up against her burning skin, swiping away the ears from her under-eyes. "Reckon I should get back now." She said as she ran a hand through her brushed hair.

"D-does it hurt when you walk?" Rowan sat up this time.

"Uh... yeah, I guess. What about you?"

"Only when I breathe." She smirked sarcastically.

Haley looked over her, still grinning, before guessing,"Do you want me to stay?"