When Dew finally gains consciousness, his head hurts.
It takes him a moment to realize why. To remember how he'd escaped Rowan to go on a simple walk, then ran into his kidnappers and eventually got knocked out. The back of his head is in a lot of pain, but it's the memory of the fact that he's been stolen off the street that causes the burst of adrenaline, and for his eyes to finally open.
The room he's in is dimly lit, and he realizes quickly that all of his limbs are restrained—arms tied behind his back and legs strapped somewhere. He knows he's sitting, and he looks down to find that he's in a metal chair, his ankles tied to the legs.
"Sleep well?"
Dew glances up at the voice, and finds the same man that he'd seen before—the one with the glowing white eyes. He has a weird cross earring and a scar on his eyebrow. He's looking down at Dew emotionlessly, but Dew is close enough to empathize with him, and he feels...
A pure, unbridled, urge to cause pain and suffering. Uh oh.
"Not really," Dew replies honestly. "My head hurts, thanks for that."
Dew's able to keep his composure and act aloof, but on the inside he's terrified.
He starts to look around the room, and finds that it's quite nice. When he imagined being kidnapped, he figured he'd wind up in some run down warehouse or something. Nope, this place has a little fireplace in the wall and a desk with a woman sitting at it, on a laptop. It's also got about three more people, all lounging on different pieces of furniture. It's comfortable, if only Dew wasn't so clearly in danger.
Dew looks back up at the first guy, who is now messing with a knife. A large fucking knife. Dew genuinely has no idea how he's going to get out of this situation.
"Dewey Price, correct?" The white-eyed man in front of Dew, who just radiates evil, asks.
Dew blinks up at him. "If I say no will you let me go?"
The guy does this... weird half smile, but the only thing it succeeds in doing is striking even more fear inside the empath. He can tell—feel—that there is no good inside this man, and it is downright petrifying.
"I'm gonna spoil something for you, Dewey: when you leave this place, you'll be in a body bag, barely alive, and you're going right to the Origin's doorstep."
Those words trigger even more alarm, and when he speaks them, something clicks. This isn't about Dew at all—no, this whole thing is to get a reaction from Rowan. They're going to torture Dew, that much is obvious, but it's purely to hurt Rowan, because he's the Origin. They want Rowan to see his mutilated body, apparently. These people are one of the groups the Captain warned him about. Dew thinks that it would've worked better if they took Rowan's soulmate instead, but oh well.
Anyway, it's pretty clear what Dew's best course of action is here. He can't fight back, so he has to not give them any sort of reaction. No matter what. It's the only thing he can think of, since otherwise he's helpless. The least he can do is not give them the sick thrill they want.
"How alive—like, on a scale of 1 to 10?" Yup, Dew needs to remain unfazed, it's the only way to make himself feel better.
The guy raises an eyebrow at him, possibly at how casual he's being. "1."
"Okay, but that would make me dead–"
"Then 2" he responds, voice low and threatening. "I'll dismember you first. Starting with your eyes—actually, I think I'll just take them for myself. I've never seen a pair that color before."
At this, the guy steps forward, and he places the blade two inches under Dew's left eye. It is incredibly sharp, and he hardly has to put any pressure as he slices Dew's skin, before the empath feels blood running down his face. Still, Dew is able to hold onto his composure, though he does wince just a bit, and his eye tears up slightly in reaction. The cut covers about three inches horizontal below his eye, and he can feel the blood dripping out. So this shirt is ruined.
"Go for it, asshole. Then I can get a dog."
The white-eyed man's eyebrows furrow at this, obviously confused as to why Dew isn't trembling in fear. It's a good thing that the empath considers the phrase, fake it 'til you make it to be excellent advice. It's the main thing that's even letting him do this.
"I'll probably burn you alive—but put you out before you lose consciousness. Over and over again," the guy replies, and Dew can't help the way his hands start to shake at the threat. Just the thought of the sheer pain that would put him through... no, Dew, don't think about it. The look in the man's eye is clearly unsure and put off, though, which Dew deems as a win. Excellent.
"Why isn't Rowan here?" Dew questions, glancing around the room. He's honestly been kind of wondering that for a while. "Wasn't that your whole thing? Torture the Origin?"
The man frowns, before, "we want to ruin you for him first, then we will deal with the Origin."
"Why?" Dew responds, because that makes absolutely no sense. Sure Rowan would be upset if he had to look at Dew all messed up, but wouldn't anyone? Why Dew specifically? Why not do it in front of Rowan? Wait...
"Hang on," Dew says, starting to feel amused, though it doesn't outweigh the fear he's trying so hard to suppress. The fact he's feeling this guy's extremely negative emotions aids in it."You guys couldn't take him if you wanted to, huh? He's too good."
The white-eyed man's face contorts into one of irritation. "That's not-"
"It totally is," Dew replies. "What, am I the next best thing?"
The guy grits his teeth, and Dew clearly struck a nerve there. The man takes several menacing steps forward, and Dew knows he's about to be injured before it even happens. The man stands in front of Dew, before he slams his fist into the empath's face.
Dew's head snaps to the side, and he really misjudged how much that would hurt, his vision swimming as his ears ring. He can't help his wince as he tries desperately not to give a reaction. Then, the guy sends a powerful kick to Dew's sternum, and Dew's chair is either bottom heavy or bolted the floor, because it doesn't give. Dew doesn't think he broke any ribs, but he's going to have a nasty bruise.
Dew starts coughing up a little blood, but he forces himself to recover quickly, ignoring the fact that the red substance is all over his face. He tries not to think about how badly he's about to be hurt, since he doesn't want to give this man the satisfaction. He's going to keep this up until instinct kicks in and he can't anymore.
"You hit like a Girl Scout," Dew tells him, grinning with blood in his teeth. The white-eyes man's face contorts into confusion.
"Okay, that's it, why aren't you sca—why isn't he scared?" The guy turns to the other occupants of the room, who shrug. Then, a side door that Dew previously hadn't noticed, opens.
In walks another man, and this one is just a bit overweight, with quite pale skin. He has on a simple black shirt with a flannel and blue jeans, and he's much taller than Dew. He has this aura of power. Dew raises an eyebrow. The other people in the room immediately fix their posture, standing or sitting straight up in respect. White Eyes backs away, moving to stand off to the side.
The guy makes his way slowly in Dew's direction. He asks, after a moment, voice raw with authority;
"It's nice to finally meet you, Dewey." He stops about fifteen feet away, and for some reason Dew's empathy is working really close range right now, so he's just out of reach. "Do you know why you're here?"
"Because Rowan's the Origin and you people don't have hobbies?"
The man's dull expression doesn't change, though he does take a few more steps forward. It's then, right then, that Dew's empathy really kicks in.
"I suppose that's part of it."
Dew can't even respond, can hardly even function, as he's hit with such a potent, concentrated amount of sadness and mourning. He's never felt this pure of an emotion before, and it feels like the wind just got knocked out of him. This man is hurting deeply inside, and it all floods into Dew.
One thing about Dew's empathy, is the fact that when it happens, he usually absorbs the emotion from someone, therefore lessening how intense it is for them. The guy's expression doesn't change much, but Dew can see just a hint of a change that reveals he's been caught off guard.
Dew immediately begins tearing up, all of the sorrow rushing into his system until his nose begins running and he feels more miserable than he's ever experienced.
"You..." Dew feels breathless, as he looks up into the man with pure, raw dejection. "Who did you lose?"
The guy freezes, and Dew can feel it—this man has never talked about it before, about the sadness in his soul. That must be why it's so strong.
"What?" He asks.
"You're mourning," Dew replies. "You're in pain. Who was it?"
The guy just looks at Dew, obviously caught off guard, though his stone cold expression is slowly melting away as he can't hide the way he's feeling inside. "I don't—I don't understand, how do you know that?"
Dew sniffles, rubbing at his eye with his shoulder as a tear falls. It's on the side that isn't cut, but his shirt is still being ruined from the blood running down his neck and staining the fabric. "I can feel it."
The guy blinks at Dew, then slowly sinks to his knees, sitting back on his heels as he looks at the ground. He can't hide the emotion beginning to show in his face, and Dew glances around the room. Everybody is staring at the two in shock, and Dew gets the sense that they've never seen the guy—who is clearly their leader—in this state.
"She... she was my wife."
"What happened?" Dew replies, and the man reaches up to run a hand through his hair. The sadness gets stronger, and Dew can't help as more tears fall. Good god, he has never felt this sheer amount of sadness. At least, not since he was a kid and his neighbor's child died. It's always death.
"She had an abnormality, and... and it destroyed her. Brutally. She was always in so much pain, since the day we met."
Dew nods in understanding, and he can feel the fondness this man holds for the woman. She was his entire world, he'd never loved anyone like he loved her, and probably never will again.
"She was a good woman," Dew replies. "She made you better. You loved her so much."
The guy nods, and Dew is absolutely sure of it. This man has kept these feelings bottled up. It's the only way they'd be so potent.
"It's why I need to destroy the Origin," the man replies, and he finally glances up at Dew. "He did that to her."
Dew shakes his head, even as he's hit with a wave of resentment towards Rowan. He keeps his head. "It's not his fault he was born."
The man frowns, and the feelings of hatred get stronger. Dew tries to remember that he actually likes Rowan. "I don't care. He took her from me."
"Would she want that?" Dew replies, raising his eyebrows. "Would she want you to kill him? To hurt me? Would it make her proud?"
The guy appears to think about it. Then, he seems to snap back to reality, as he glances around the room to everyone else. They all still look shocked, and the man quickly gets to a standing position. He gulps, eyebrows furrowed as he glances at Dew. Then, he turns around.
"I'll be back." He states, powerful tone in place. "I need to think."
Then, he exits the room. A minute after he leaves, Dew's empathy calms down and he's back to feeling his own shit. He leans over and wipes his eyes on his shoulder, this time getting the blood on his shirt. He glances back up at everyone else, sniffling as he calms down.
"What the hell just happened?" A guy asks, obviously confused. He's sitting in a chair by the woman's desk, who begins typing. After a moment, she answers.
"Dewey Price, son of Stevie Price, developed the abnormality Empathy when he was six."
"Nobody go near him." The white-eyed man says, eyes narrowed on Dew. "His abnormality is more dangerous than it seems."
Dew can't help but to grin at that, because he's never heard his empathy called dangerous before. He thinks it has a nice ring to it. "What? You don't want a turn?"
"I don't need a therapist."
Dew leans back in his seat, raising an eyebrow because he begs to differ. These people clearly have issues.
"I think you do." Dew replies. "You have fucking problems."
The guy doesn't even respond, face turning cold as he walks up to Dew yet again. He doesn't give Dew a warning before he kicks the empath square in the nose. It immediately starts pouring blood, and his mouth tastes of the crimson substance even stronger. Then, the guy backs away, and again—the only emotion Dew feels from him is pure malice.
It's concerning to say the least.
Dew sighs, knowing his face is going to be really bruised if he makes it out of here. The guy backs away, eyeing Dew.
"Don't get cocky," he warns. "I can't wait to watch you kill your true love."
Dew raises an eyebrow at the guy. He's pretty sure that by true love, this guy means Rowan, which makes next to no sense. What, do these people know the two are fucking? Like Dew is ever gonna fall in love—not to mention, the only way to kill Rowan is to kill his soulmate or wait 800 more years for him to die of old age. Did these people not do their phoenix research?
"What?" Dew asks, confused. "Are you talking about Rowan?"
The man raises an eyebrow, which Dew takes as an affirmative. Dew snorts at his brainlessness.
"Are you stupid?" He asks. "The only way to kill Rowan is to kill his soulmate."
The man stares at Dew. "Is that what he told you?"
Dew frowns. What is this guy getting at?
"Sure, that would work." He starts, "but a soulmate can kill a phoenix—quite easily, actually. They're the only one. Just cut his heart out and burn it."
Dew wonders why Rowan never told him that, but decides to let it go. Why would his soulmate even want to kill him? What are these people on about? He glances up at the man, before responding, "well looks like you're SOL, Rowan's soulmate is in the Westhem."
The guy stares at Dew for a moment, before he gets this amused look to his eye. He glances at the other occupants of the room, who seem just as entertained. The guy by the lady's desk asks; "seriously?"
"He didn't tell you?" A woman on a couch to the left of Dew asks, playing with a lighter.
Dew is getting more confused by the minute. Tell Dew what? What the fuck are these people on? Are they trying to torture Dew via confusion? If so, it's working really well.
"What are you talking about?" Dew asks.
The man stares down at Dew, and he has a purely sadistic smile on his face. "Let me ask you a question: why do you think we took you?"
Dew raises an eyebrow, then tries to think about it. He honestly has no clue. "I don't know, because you guys don't like Rowan?"
"Okay," Couch Lady says, "but why you?"
Dew frowns, unbelievably confused. What the hell is going on? "Uh, because we're friends?"
The guy purses his lips, eyeing Dew. There is no mistaking how entertaining he finds this, and Dew doesn't even know why.
"What reason would we have for bringing you here, if you weren't his soulmate?"
Dew blinks at the guy, as what he just said fully processes in his mind. Then, he can't help but to burst out laughing. Really? These people actually mistook him for Rowan's soulmate? That's hilarious. What a joke. If Dew was by some miracle Rowan's soulmate, the captain surely would have told him by now.
"Seriously? You think I'm his soulmate?" Dew asks, still laughing at the absurdity.
"You don't?" The girl on the couch responds. Dew raises an eyebrow.
"Uh, no." Dew replies, continuing to find the situation comical. "You people have the wrong guy—who even told you that?"
"Vidos can see soulmates," the guy in the chair responds, nodding at the lady at the desk, who stares at Dew with an expression that affirms it. She's got to be mistaken, how does that even work? There's no way. There's... there's no way.
We're not having this conversation.
Then when will we?
When you're ready.
Dew blinks rapidly, as his mind supplies him with several moments that have taken place since he met Rowan.
What about your soulmate? How do they feel about that?
I don't think they like it.
Dew's heart begins to race, these memories flooding into him.
The entire world knows I'm the Origin. You're not going anywhere.
Dew starts shaking.
What? Is my life in danger?
Not if I can help it
He stares down at the floor.
If I bring you, you will be in a lot of danger. Stay here.
No, there's no way it's true.
How long have you known your soulmate?
About a month.
But it makes so much sense.
Well how can you tell?
A feeling.
As soon as we meet them.
Dew can't breathe. There's no denying it, all the pieces fitting together. He and Rowan are soulmates.
Right then, the door opens, and the same guy that Dew just had an emotional connection with walks in. Dew is hardly paying attention, his surroundings blurring around him as it really sets in. He's Rowan's soulmate. It's why the guy was quick to have Dew move in with him. Why he's so intent on protecting the empath... and he's known since the moment they met.
Dew is the stupidest fucking person on the planet. How in the world did he not see it? Rowan gave him so many hints. It was so fucking obvious, how did Dew not pick up on it? How was he so goddamn blind?
"Abnormalities are a plague," the leader guy says. "They're an illness, which means there is a cure. A vaccine, a medicine, a treatment. A way to get rid of them for good. You are going to find it within the next month, or you will be brought back here, and we will finish the job."
The next hour is a blur. Arguing ensues between the leader and his accomplices, but they eventually (begrudgingly) agree. Dew feels very unsafe around the man with white eyes, as he strongly disagrees with the leader's decision to not torture Dew within an inch of his life. Dew knows he's untied, a bag placed over his head. He's escorted to a vehicle, and it drives for quite a while before coming to a stop. The entire time Dew is in his head, feeling like the dumbest person in the world. Mostly, though, he's betrayed. How could Rowan have kept this from him? For so long?
Dew gets shoved out of the van, bag ripped off his head. He just stands there, staring at the hotel, feeling lost. He's vaguely thankful they didn't drop him off in the middle of nowhere.
Dew makes up his mind pretty quick. He needs to get the hell out of here.
Dew storms into the hotel to the sound of the car driving away, and he can feel his blood rushing in his ears.
He turns down a hallway and rushes up three flights of stairs until he reaches their floor. He gets to their hotel room, and hurries inside. Surprisingly, he spots Rowan in the room, on the phone. He looks up at Dew's entrance, and Dew can see the overwhelming worry in the captain's eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, uniform haphazardly put on, hair an absolute train wreck. His expression quickly turns into relief, though. Then concern. He immediately hangs up the phone, walking towards the empath.
"Dew? Where have you been—Who did that to you?"
Dew doesn't fucking answer him, shaking with the sheer amount of emotion he's feeling.
"You've been gone since last night, a fourth of this city's police force is looking for you."
Dew crouches down next to his suitcase, and immediately begins packing his shit. He's having a hard time functioning with all he's feeling right now—and worst of all, they're all his emotions this time. He can hardly breathe, and he's seconds from going into a full panic.
Dew stands back up, and Rowan grabs his arm. Dew immediately wheels around, ripping it from Rowan's grasp.
"Don't fucking touch me," he hisses. Rowan's eyebrows raise, but he takes a step back. He looks unbelievably confused.
"What happened?"
"When the fuck were you gonna tell me?!" Dew shouts, clenching his fists at his side. The wound under his eye has clotted a bit, so the blood on his cheek is partially dried. He knows he already has a bruise forming on said cheek, though, and his nose is still bleeding. There is also definitely blood in and leaking out of his mouth as well. "You've known since the day we met, and you didn't fucking say anything?!"
Rowan's eyes flash in recognition, and he gets this... wary look to his eye. "Dew, what happened to you?"
Dew takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. He tries to calm down, enough to at least give Rowan an explanation for where he's been, since he knows this guy won't let it go. Dew looks up at Rowan, and wipes at his face to try and get at least some of the blood off. It doesn't work very well.
"You were right, I should've stayed here. Then I wouldn't have been taken. I wouldn't be bleeding all over my shirt, and I wouldn't have just narrowly escaped being brutally tortured. Then again, I also wouldn't know that we're fucking soulmates."
Rowan's eyes widen, and that's all Dew needs for a confirmation. He feels like the wind just got knocked out of him. It's fucking true. The man appears worried, but Dew notices that Rowan is looking at his injuries more than anything. He reaches out, running his fingers along Dew's cheek, who just closes his eyes. When Rowan pulls his hand back, there's blood on his fingers, and his expression darkens.
"I want to know who did this to you."
"Who fucking cares?!" Dew shouts. "How long have we known each other?! We've been soulmates this whole goddamn time, and you never fucking—"
"I'm going to find whoever did this to you." Rowan's hardly even acknowledging what Dew's saying anymore, attention fully on the fact that Dew has been harmed.
"It's a fucking scratch, Rowan."
"Half of your face is bruising," the captain responds, looking down at Dew. Dew's never seen Rowan this visibly pissed the entire time he's known him, and it's all because Dew was barely even hurt. Well, okay, the cut on his face is probably gonna leave a scar, but whatever. "I wouldn't care if you just scraped your knee, I'm putting them in the morgue. Who was it?"
Dew just glares at him for a moment longer, thinking that there's no way Rowan would commit murder over this. Then, something processes in his mind. Rowan is not going to have a conversation with him while his face still looks like this. This is why Dew takes a deep breath and walks into the kitchen. Rowan's on his heels the whole time as he unrolls a sizable portion of paper towels, before walking into the bathroom. Again, Rowan stands in the doorway as Dew gets in front of the mirror.
Dew's going to be honest, he looks like a mess. His hair is all over the place, gash on his cheek still lightly leaking blood. It's all over him, and his nose hasn't stopped bleeding at all. It's covering his clothes. Also, Rowan's right, Dew got punched a little over an hour ago, but he can already tell his face will be seriously bruised—it's already blue, slowly turning black.
Dew closes his eyes, before opening them and taking a deep breath. He's trying so hard to keep a clear head about this, but it's only a matter of time before his emotions spill out. He tears off a portion of the paper towels, and dampens it. He wipes most of the blood off his face, though he has to hold some of the napkins under his nose to try and stop the flow. Touching the injuries results in him flinching quite a bit, but he keeps it together. The damage he took to his nose is starting to give him raccoon eyes. He cups his hands under the faucet and drinks some water, before spitting it out. It's at least 50% blood. Then, he takes a deep breath before brushing past Rowan.
He goes back to his suitcase, taking off his blood covered shirt. Sure enough, the spot that the man kicked is bruising, and Dew makes sure to keep it facing away from Rowan as he pulls on a dark t-shirt.
Then, Dew turns back to face Rowan, who is looking more and more angry by the second.
"Rowan, let it fucking go." Dew states, eyes narrowed on the man, whose own flicker up to meet his gaze. "See? I'm all better. Answer my goddamn question."
Rowan stares at him, before pursing his lips. He takes a minute to collect his thoughts together, before finally giving Dew a response. "I wanted to wait until you were ready. I knew you wouldn't handle it well."
Dew's entire jaw is trembling, and he knows he's close to breaking down. He's not even sure why. Is it the feeling of betrayal? The overwhelming pain he's in? Maybe the fact that he hasn't felt his own emotions this intense in a very long time?
"You don't know anything about me," Dew growls, entire body shaking. Rowan's previously angry expression starts to soften at how upset Dew is. "I'm never fucking trusting you again."
Rowan actually winces, and he's clearly still pissed off, but he's at least letting it go for now. "I'm sorry you found out like this—it's the last thing I wanted. I was going to tell you myself."
"When?!" Dew shouts, and his voice cracks. He can feel the tears welling up in his eyes and he sniffles, dropping the napkin from his nose as he starts to break. He immediately feels blood start to dribble out, and after a moment he puts the napkin back up. "Huh? Tomorrow? A year from now? Never?!"
"Soon," Rowan responds, and there isn't a trace of anger on his features anymore. Instead he looks extremely guilty. Dew just shakes his head, unable to even hold himself up anymore from the blood loss and exhaustion. He sits back on the bed, as the tears in his eyes begin to fall. He stares down at the carpet, and he has no idea how he's going to handle this. Actually, yes he does. "I'm moving out. As soon as we get back I'm moving out and I never want to see you again."
"Dew, listen to me," Rowan walks closer to Dew, kneeling in front of him so they're eye level. Dew sees his eyes flicker to the gash, which is definitely bleeding again. Good thing Dew's wearing a dark shirt. Then, Rowan's eyes meet Dew's own. "It was wrong of me to keep that from you, and I'm sorry. I take full responsibility. You had every right to know."
Dew's tears increase until they're streaming down his face, and he's bordering on full blown crying. He's dealt with a lot today, still trembling, and he doesn't like to think of himself as weak, but he was nearly tortured—horrifically, to the point where he'd be permanently mutilated—then he finds out he and Rowan are somehow destined to be together, and now... he doesn't know how to handle all these emotions within himself. On one hand he wants Rowan to comfort him, on the other he wants to never see the man again. To never feel this much again.
That's the issue. Rowan makes Dew feel too much, and... it scares him.
"Dew, I know we're soulmates, but it doesn't have to mean anything." Rowan continues, voice calm. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but it doesn't matter, okay? I know you're averse to emotional attachments and love, so—"
"Love?!" Dew replies, pulling the tissue from his nose as he stares down at Rowan, ignoring the way it bleeds again. "I don't—I'm never gonna love you. I don't love anyone!"
Rowan schools his face into one of complete apathy at Dew's words, but Dew can tell he's hurt him. Immediately, guilt starts to eat away at him, and he covers his face as he actually begins crying.
"You don't have to love me," Rowan tells him. "You don't even have to like me. You can hate me if you want, just please don't leave. Let me protect you."
Dew looks up to meet Rowan's eyes, and he can see how much it physically pains the man to see him like this.
"Protect me." Dew responds, voice wobbly. "They... they said—I... I almost..."
If Dew didn't empathize with that guy... he wouldn't even be recognizable right now.
Rowan grabs Dew, pulling him into an embrace, and he stands up, just holding Dew, who genuinely can't stop crying, the fear curling in his gut at the thought of what... what they could've done to him. What they wanted to do to him. Dew lets Rowan hold him for now, though he doesn't embrace the man back, just grasps his shirt. He's definitely getting blood on this thing.
Dew should've listened to Rowan from the start.
After a few minutes, Rowan asks; "how did you get out of there?"
Dew blinks, before stepping away from the captain, who doesn't seem particularly happy about him leaving. Sure enough, there is blood all over his white uniform shirt. "I told you I can take care of myself."
That's a lie. Dew's escape was a one in a million chance, he can hardly believe it even now. If it weren't for the death of that guy's wife, Dew would be in immense pain right now. Then again, if his wife hadn't died, Dew may have not been in the situation in the first place. A glance up at Rowan, and Dew can see the doubt. He doesn't like the fact that Dew won't give him details. As he stands there, his anger starts to rear itself again.
Rowan admitted he was in the wrong, but... to be honest, that doesn't really mean shit to Dew right now. It doesn't change the fact that he's a liar... even though he didn't outright lie. Still, he was able to keep such a big secret from Dew. What else could he be hiding?
"Just let me keep you safe, that's all I ask. Don't leave. Stay with me until I bring peace, until we put an end to this war and you're no longer in danger."
Even though that's in both of their best interests, Dew is still very upset with this guy.
"We aren't doing this anymore." Dew tells him, motioning in between them with his blood covered hand. "Sex and all that. It's not happening anymore. I won't move out, but... we aren't going to be friends."
It pains Dew to do this. Again, Rowan is the only person Dew enjoys being around. At first it was just about his empathy, but now Dew genuinely likes him as a person. Still, he needs to protect his heart. He can't afford heartbreak and emotional attachments, especially since he has two lives to worry about now.
Dew glances up, expecting the guy to be unhappy with him. The thing is, Rowan is visibly unhappy, but he's back to looking at Dew's wounds. His irises are shrinking again in his anger, directed at the people who hurt Dew. The guy just won't let it go.
"Anything you want," Rowan replies absently, and he looks like he wants to patch Dew up, like he did when Dew cut his foot on glass in Rowan's kitchen. Dew can't let that happen... he needs to be alone. He needs to be away from Rowan.
Dew gathers his art supplies, blanket, and pillow—making sure not to get blood on them—before turning to face Rowan. He's still an absolute mess, hardly able to talk without his voice cracking and eyes so watery it blurs his vision.
"But... but I don't want to see you right now." He says, before walking past Rowan and into their bathroom. He knows it's childish to lock himself away like this, but he needs some time right now, away from everyone.
Dew doesn't come out of the bathroom for days, aside from the occasional exit to gather food or more clothes, always when Rowan isn't around.
He hasn't felt this lost since he was 17.
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