Never Meant (Kellic) // boyxboy

9: Can We Pretend?

I breathe a sigh of relief when I finally make it to the top of the stairs. Its been a few days, and I can finally move enough to return to school, but everything still hurts. But I know I'll be okay. I've had beatings like this before. Hell, I've had beatings worse than this before.

I close the door to the roof behind me and walk out into the cold morning air. The breeze on my scabbing lip aches but it's still less sore than it has been. Vic's jacket keeps me warm as per usual but the icy wind still stings my cheeks. I should really return this jacket.

I sit on the edge of the roof, my back facing the 40ft drop. I close my eyes and feel the wind blow through my hair. It almost feels as though its gently nudging me off the ledge. And I feel as if I could just give in at any moment and let the breeze carry me to the concrete.

The smack of the door opening makes my eyes snap open. I watch a panicked Vic emerge and a small but noticeable wave of relief washes over him when he sees me.

"Fuck, there you are. You haven't been at school, you haven't been answering your phone, I thought you, I thought you had done something—"

He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale and he stares at me, seeming tenser than before.

"What are you doing?" he asks quickly, looking from my eyes to the ledge I'm sitting on.

I just shrug, trying hard to swallow the lump in my throat.

He takes a few steps forward and reaches out his hand.

"Come here." he says, looking at me with a stern expression.

I consider taking his hand, but I don't. I can't let him in again. I avert my gaze from his and I slide off the ledge and onto the roof. I lean against the wall and pull my knees up to my chest as much as I can without putting too much pressure on my ribs.

I look to my fingers as they rest on the top of my knees. I pick at my knuckles, hoping I can draw blood and distract myself from the boy watching me in confusion and worry. He sits down next to me gently pulls my now bleeding hand away from my nail that is desperate to tear at my flesh. He holds my hand between both of his, safely cradling it.

Tears brim my eyes immediately so I turn my head away from him.

"You should go." I whisper, trying hard to steady my shaky voice.

"I'm not going anywhere." he tells me, his words are quiet, but they're firm. He's serious.

He drops one of his hands and moves it to my chin. He turns my face to his. His jaw is clenched as he looks over my bruised eye, my split lip and my cut up cheek. A tear slips from my eye and finds its way to his thumb. He gently brushes it away.

I watch as he swallows hard and drops his hand from my chin. He places it back over my hand. I look down at my lap, feeling shame rise up in me.

"Was it your dad?" he murmurs.

I look back at him alarmed. He can't know.

I shake my head vigorously but my throat betrays me as it lets a sob slip. I can't stifle the rest that follow it and end up just crying violently as Vic pulls me into his arms.

I want to pull away. I want to push him away. But I can't. His arms feel like home.

"Kellin, this isn't okay. He can't do this to you." he murmurs, into my hair.

"He didn't. It wasn't him." I choke out. "I just, I just fell."

I know I'm fighting a losing battle. I know he already knows, but I have to stand my ground.