𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑|𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

Jeremiah Maybank hadn't meant to end up shitfaced drunk, nor did he mean to end up back at his boyfriends (who was rather infuriated with him at the moment, a fact that Jeremiah chose to ignore for his own sanity) house. His water colored eyes slowly fluttered open the overwhelming feeling bubbling up in his gut that something was just wrong. He got that feeling each and every single time he stood the night at Rafe's house, not knowing what sort of torment that was going to be inflicted on him for merely breathing around the Cameron boy. He hated it, he wished it didn't exist and he could go back to a time where he felt safe in the presence of his own boyfriend, a man that was meant to love and keep him safe above everything else. But, just like everything else Jeremiah could ever ask for in life, he never got it.

As much as Jeremiah wanted to forget the horrifying events that had occurred at the boneyard party, his brain refused to do so. He remembered how his only goal was just to stay away from all of the drama and have a single night to himself without Rafe or his father breathing down his ear, which only led to a fight breaking out between Topper in John B, ultimately leading to JJ shooting a gun he had stolen from an abandoned motel up in the air (Jeremiah made a mental note to scold him for such an action when he got the chance).

Jeremiah had no idea how early it was considering the fact that while in his drunken mannerisms he had managed to knock down Rafe's alarm clock, the object now shattered into dozens of pieces. His body roared in searing hot agony as he rolled out of bed, the mere action making the dizziness he hoped he wouldn't feel hitting him all at once, the Maybank boy almost considering climbing under the covers and hoping his body would once more travel into a peaceful slumber if it wasn't for Rafe entering his bedroom, his eyes narrowed into a glare that could terrify even the toughest person.

Jeremiah swallowed thickly, beginning to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands until they ached. He didn't know where the habit had come from, only that it occurred when Rafe was angry at him for whatever reason. Jeremiah watched with cautious eyes as Rafe gently closed the door behind him, still trying to perceive the image that he was the perfect son who was incapable of doing any wrong. It was something that nobody but Rafe seemed to think, which Jeremiah believed was the main reason as to why he was bitter so often. Because everybody saw Rafe for who he truly was. A screw up.

"You were drunk last night," Rafe stated, moving to sit beside Jeremiah and place his hand over his knee. "You got drunk, while I wasn't there to protect you. You know what could've happened? Are you fucking stupid? You're stupid, aren't you?"

Jeremiah almost laughed at loud at the thought. It had been what seemed like a decade since Rafe had ever bothered to protect him, especially when he was drunk. There were instances where Rafe left him all alone while he was drunk and high to hang out with his degenerate friends, leaving Jeremiah vulnerable and susceptible to anything. Protection and Rafe were two things that did not go together whatsoever.

Jeremiahs laughing attitude soon dissolved at the insult that escaped Rafe's lips, calling him stupid. It was one of his most notorious ones, right around worthless, two things that Jeremiah truly believed himself to be at times. For if he wasn't worthless or stupid, why did he choose to put up with Rafe for so long, even knowing his toxic and abusive behavior that could potentially get him killed one day if he wasn't careful? Why did he stay after every bruise, after every meltdown, after every bullshit apology and cheap dinner that Rafe only paid for to bring himself back into a good light?

Jeremiah knew it was the truth, hence why he didn't even bother to respond. Rafe was right, he always would be. The silence that consumed the large bedroom was deafening. Right when Jeremiah was beginning to find his voice to finally defend himself, Rafe took notice of the opportunity and attacked. He grabbed Jeremiah firmly by the neck, yanking him off the bed and slamming him up against the wall, knocking down his entire dresser in the process. Jeremiah gasped at the force, beginning to wheeze at the pain that erupted throughout his entire body. The oxygen that was desperately trying to get into his lungs was being cut off by the feeling of Rafe's hand pressing deeper into his neck, for sure creating a nasty bruise that he was going to struggle hiding from his brother.