YOURS // Les Twins {Sequel to MINE}

16 - Blood And Tears

Larry's hand shook noticeably as he extended a set of keys to Laurent, too nervous to work the padlock himself.

Laurent accepted the keys but took Larry's hand in his own, tugging him closer.

"It'll be okay," Laurent said quietly, taking the keys and wrapping his arms around Larry as Larry shoved his face in Laurent's neck.

"I know," Larry mumbled from his favorite hiding place.

"C'mon," Laurent said, pulling back and pressing a kiss to Larry's lips.

Larry nodded, giving Laurent room to open the storage space. But still, tears sprung to his eyes as Laurent lifted the heavy, rolling door and flipped the light switch just inside.

It was a large space filled with boxes and furniture...furniture that Larry knew all too well. But his eyes locked onto a cardboard box with his mother's name scrawled across it in his father's handwriting.

Larry pulled a pack of round, color-coded stickers from his pocket, immediately sticking a red one on the couch as it was the piece of furniture closest within reach. And as he began to shift boxes around, he was determined to put a red circle on every stick of furniture in the place. He'd made it about halfway through the clutter when he stopped dead in his tracks.

Hands still shaking, Larry placed a green sticker on an antique rocking chair, and then he just stood there, staring at it.

"Talk to me, baby," Laurent said, wrapping his arms around Larry from behind and propping his chin on his shoulder.

"It was my mom's," Larry explained, his voice beginning to fail him. "Somewhere in here, there's a picture of her rocking me to sleep in it."

When Laurent had suggested having everything shipped from his hometown to a local storage facility, Larry had seriously questioned just getting rid of everything. But he was glad he hadn't, despite how painful this process was already.

Larry had blocked out so much, he'd almost forgotten how much he missed his mother...a woman he barely knew and couldn't quite remember. He'd almost forgotten her completely. But he did remember that feeling...knowing that he was loved. It was damn near the only thing his father had ever said about her, which he found ironic as hell.

"It's beautiful," Laurent murmured as they tightened their hold on one another.

Shaking himself free of the mental fog, Larry went back to placing stickers. And then he came across an object that chilled him to the bone.

Not saying a word, Larry hefted the cheap wooden nightstand over his head, weaving back through the clutter and into the open space beside the car. With as much force as he could muster, Larry brought the nightstand down onto the hard concrete and watched it splinter with a loud, satisfying crack.

Again, he lifted the familiar wooden object and slammed it down on the concrete, watching as it broke into two separate pieces and the empty drawers tumbled loose. He continued to pick up the pieces, hurling them into the ground as he screamed obscenities, not giving a damn if anyone was watching.

Though his eyes were looking at the object in front of him, his mind flashed with memories of staring at the side of that fucking nightstand during the most sickening and vile moments of his life. The same nightstand that once held that bottle of whiskey, the one he'd used to damn near kill his own father.

Larry raged, tears pouring down his face, until he felt his arms pinned to his sides. He struggled against the force holding him back until he heard Laurent's worried voice in his ear.

"Baby, stop...you're bleeding."

Larry looked down at his hands, the left one dripping blood thanks to a splintered piece of wood.