The skies were dark and gloomy,
seemingly copying Perth's current mood.
He looked around at all of the people, all of his supposed family members who only spared him short "I'm sorry's before moving on.
It's not like the people who died weren't related to him.
It was only his mother and his sister, after all.
A man in a beige coat and black hat approached him, smiling softly. "Are you Perth Tanapon?"
Perth merely nodded because he hasn't been able to find words since that one tragic night, merely five days beforehand.
"Hello, Perth. I am Detective Harley Winston. I'd like to speak to you."
Speak to him?
Perth would like to speak to so many people.
He'd like to speak to his mother and sister, who were now gone. He'd like to apologize for what he put him through and how he acted.
He'd like to speak to his step father, who was always I business trips. He could've saved the girls if he would've been at home, where he belongs. Perth would like to tell the man what a fucking screw-up he was for leaving so often.
He wanted to speak to his birth father, who had died years before, when Perth was only seven, in a car accident all because Perth wanted some bloody ice-cream. He wanted to tell his father he's sorry for being a spoiled brat.
He would kill to talk to the two men go left his house the other night. He'd make them suffer for taking the lives of the two people so dear to Perth.
Those men took everything Perth truly cared for.
So, Perth would not speak to the detective.
Because, sometimes, you couldn't get what you wanted.
Perth woke up to the feeling of someone shaking his shoulder. Perth stared at Saint, blinking his eyes a few times in confusion.
"Are you okay?" Saint whispered, watching as Perth's chest moved quickly, keeping up with his heartbeat.
"I'm fine," Perth mumbled, suddenly getting up from the bed.
"Don't leave me!"
Perth looked at the small lad in surprise. Saint looked so little and so innocent. He was curled up into the blankets, looking up at Perth with frightened eyes, watching him carefully.
"Never," Perth found himself saying, reaching forward to brush his hand over Saint's cheek. "I'm only going to make a call, and I'll stay in here for it, yeah?"
Saint nodded but Perth could imagine what Saint was thinking- who the hell was he calling at half past one in the morning?
"Can I have a kiss?" Saint asked suddenly. Perth couldn't held but press a long kiss to Saint's lips, dipping his tongue in to taste Saint's warm mouth before pulling away and dialing a number on his phone.
Someone answered, but there was only shuffling before the line went dead. Rolling his eyes, Perth called again. And again. And again.
Finally, there was an answer. "Perth, I'm getting fucked right now! Call me tomorrow."
And the line was dead again.
Perth grunted. Usually, he'd be mad that Bas was sleeping with someone else, but he hadn't paid hardly any attention to the boy lately. Sure, they're still sleeping together, but Perth's not as into it and thinks Bas can tell.
