Tronnor : Hostage

Chapter 26.

14th October 2016

10:30pm

Troye's POV

"Not so confident anymore Troye boy?" He whispered seductively, caressing the fallen curl behind my ear, as I flinched away, in a desperate move of fear.

My arms felt locked to my side, positioned in a stiff state of shock as Rick crouched forward, that devilish smirk playing on his lips, as he hunched his back, so his breath was inches away from my skin. I could almost taste his cold feeling of satisfaction, flowing across his face as he realised I was in his grasp once again.

He looked almost pleased that it was just us, sat aimlessly staring at each other, in a blur of awkwardness and confusion.

He looked angry, and I looked scared.

I was scared. I was terrified of him.

"I bet you regret that day, that retched day that you broke up with me." He spat, his stare turning solemn and guarded, as he eyed me once again. He looked as if he was in a state of  weakness, as I edged away from his touch. His breathing was slightly shaky, tentative as his emotions began to evolve.

He seemed so angry about that day, that his feelings were overcoming him, in a wave of frustration and fragility, as his tone of voice went up an octave. He seemed upset that I wasn't with him anymore, and his guard suddenly wasn't so strong.

It was a side of Rick, I had witnessed only once.

Flashback.

"Can I ask you something?" I questioned, snuggling into his denim jacket like it was my only source of warmth.

We were huddled up under the school's bike shelter. It was a cold but calm evening, and we had decided to take ourselves outside, agreeing that we were less likely to be seen.

"What my love?" He breathed steadily, tucking my soft curls behind my ear. His eyes were mellow today, warm and inviting, as I looked into his brown orbs.

His touch and his comfort made me feel at ease, and I felt nothing but confidence, as I went to ask him my question. It had been boiling inside of me for a while, and I seemed to think that it could break his walls slightly, open him up, to show his softer side.

"When did you know you were gay?" I stated, quite boldly for my usual voice. I watched his gaze fall from mine, leaving him looking at the floor, in a mix of tension and anxiousness, a side I hadn't seen before. 

"Next question." He chuckled nervously, playing it off as if it was some sort of triggering subject, powerful enough to break the guard of a 30 year old.

Of course it infused my senses with curiosity, and I suddenly pulled him closer, trying to comfort his figure.

"What's wrong with that question." I whispered, taking his hand with care, as he let it fall from my shoulder. "Did I touch on something I shouldn't have?"

He nodded slowly, sheepishly, as I brought his head up. I was for once the stronger one of the pair, and I wanted answers.

"I realised I was gay at a very young age." He spoke coldly, as if he was reminiscing about those days. His lips trembled softly, and he yet again pulled away from me, ever so suddenly.

"What's wrong with that?" I questioned.

He was looking so shifty, that my bones were aching to know what was up. I had figured out my sexuality as a young teen as well, and as much as the confusion was daunting, as I stepped into the unknown, it was fightable, manageable.