Tronnor : Hostage

Chapter 16.

12th October 2016.

8:00pm

Troye's POV

He still wasn't waking up.

It had been an hour since I saw his body, bruised and battered, thrown onto the stone floor like an unwanted bag of crap.

It made my blood boil. He wasn't a worthless object, he was my Connor, my new friend, the person I was slowly getting to know, the person I was slowly growing to like.

A lot.

I watched his laboured breathing, and cupped his head in my hands, as he now laid flat out against my burgundy skinny jeans, all shaky as the pain erupted through him. He was still unconscious, but I could tell he was uncomfortable, squirming slightly as I studied the black indentations on his abdomen.

This didn't look like the work of kian and Jc.

I had seen these sort of bruises before, confusingly, on myself.

"Please wake up." I whined, brushing his sweaty hair back. I was trying not to cry, and spare my emotions for his sake, but my eyes were watering, and the barrier protecting my sadness had broken, just as I had, looking at him, so fragile.

"P-please." I whimpered, now burying my head in his chest. My messy curls covered his face, and I could feel the Short puffs of air, tickling my forehead, as he whimsically breathed out. His mouth was open slightly, the blood clearly visible from the red cracks in his lips, to the red stained teeth.

I watched as it suddenly closed, just as I was moving in, to get a better look at the damage. I pulled back startled, and sat up straight, praying for his eyes to open once again.

They did.

"T-Tro." He groaned, his voice weak and pained, as he focused on the image of my concerned expression. I had tears dripping onto my cheeks, my eyes widened, overwhelmed, as I heard his croaky mumble.

"Oh thank god." I whispered, pulling him close as I cradled his head. He gripped onto my shirt nervously, and begun to cry himself, a complete mess in my arms.

"I-I thought I-it was t-the end." He whimpered, sobbing violently as I rocked him back and forth. Both of our faces were wet with tears, and the whole situation suddenly seemed too much, as if nearly loosing him, was the trigger, the sign that we may not walk out of this alive.

"You're o-okay, w-we're okay." I soothed, trying to steady my voice for his sake. He was wailing in agony as his body shivered with nerves. I couldn't do anything to calm him, as I suppose the shock of the situation was just too much.

"D-dont leave!" He demanded as I rose to my feet, picking up the bottle of water Sawyer had thrown in here with us. I shook my head at Connor, before taking him in my arms again, and opening the bottle for him to have a drink.

He took it slowly, as it seemed to relax him, just as it did back in the basement, a few days ago. I smiled as his eyes met mine, and I begun to dry his tears of distress with my thumb.

He rubbed his face against my hand, not saying anything, as he pulled himself into a sitting position. I was soon cupping his whole face, the atmosphere silent as the room became heated, in a mix of lust and tears.

I stroked his tender cheek, and he looked up at me, his breathing suddenly slowing compared to his laboured pants five minutes ago. He moved his hand weakly and pressed it against my chin, moving it softly to my hair, and rustling it before it sat on my cheek.

"I don't know what I would have done if I lost you." I breathed, my heart fluttering as we moved closer, both of us now smirking, his green orbs shining slightly.