° notes ° [joshler]

III

•joshua•

I rode home as Tyler slept in the passenger seat. I couldn't help myself but look at him from time to time since he looked so peacefull. I hated seeing his bloody chapped lips and bruised cheeks.
I pulled up at my driveway and picked up his fragile figure. I kicked my door open and carried him to my room. He stirred. "Tyler come here." He rubbed his eyes and got up. "We have to clean you up." He looked at me with those sad eyes. I took him to the bathroom, and looked for bandages. I found them and placed them under cold water then on his cheek. He gasped in pain and I kissed his forehead. "Sorry." I washed his lips that looked so soft. I realised I was staring at them for too long. I helped him get to bed and gave him one of my shirts and sweats. "Can you do it yourself?" I asked and he slightly nodded a little blush creeping his cheeks. I turned around as he changed. When I heard the covers shuffle I turned around and tucked him in. "Goodnight Ty." I kissed his forehead as he closed his eyes.
I layed down one duvet on the floor and lied down falling asleep almost immediately.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

•tyler•

This morning, I didn't wake up at the screaming or a punch in the face. Or in my bed. I jumped up looking around me, seeing muscular body on the floor. Josh. He stirred and I looked at his eyes until they were open. He rubbed his eyes and smiled at me. Oh gosh. "Good morning." He said in his morning raspy voice making me shiver. I returned a small smile. "Are you hungry?" He asked. I looked down at my belly that hurt. I gave him a shy nod and he got up, motioning for me to take his hand. I did so and he led me trough his massive house. "Sit down." He said pointing at the table. He went to the kitchen and brought some cereal and milk with two bowls. He took cereal box and poured them into the bowls, splashing them with cold milk. I took the spoon and started to eat. Last time I ate properly was when dad left. He sat down beside me not saying a word. Just looking at me. I got my phone out.

Don't stare.

His eyebrows furrowed.

Why?

Because it makes me anxious.

But you're so cute in the morning.

I looked at him pouting slightly smiling at him.

The only one cute here is you.

Nah.

Yah.

Why are you so skinny?

I don't Eat that often.

Why?

Because my dad slaps me every time I come into the kitchen.

Where is your mother?

He beats her too.

Can I beat the shit out of him?

He will hurt you.

But he hurt you and now it makes me want to hurt him.

It shouldn't.

Of course it should!

No. It's okay.

It's not! He punched you! He is not getting away with it.

Why do you even care.

I looked up at him. His eyes filed with tears met mine.

"Because I just do."