Broken (Timids)

The attack

  An:: okay, so this probably the most violent thing I have ever wrote and I'm generally sorry for this chapter, awfully written and awful plot line. Also a few homophobic comments are made in this but these aren't my personal views and I'm sorry if it offends anybody
Lucifer xoxo

Shane's PoV
      Breakfast couldn't have been more awkward if they had tried, which I still wasn't entirely sure they didn't. Everybody's attention was fixated upon drew, or rather, the large, prominent bite marks that stained his pale neck. Question upon question was thrown at my smaller timid, even though any fool could detect his reluctance to answer them. Yet they didn't seem to notice or care how out of place Drew felt amongst them, or how upset the attention and harsh questions would make him. He would feel pressured to answer them, yet I could tell he was scared of providing an answer, knowing that Laurence probably wouldn't like it and me and Luke would be shocked. After all, there were only a certain number of reasons bite marks would be on his neck, and we had never expected we would find them on Drew. We always suspected it to be Kier, due to his slightly more outgoing and his flirtatious nature.

Speaking of kier, his behaviour was noticeably strange all breakfast time too. The younger boy barely glanced up from his plate of food, which he barely even touched, and he didn't seem to acknowledge the presence of everyone else in the room. Whereas he would never usually miss the opportunity to join in the discussion and perhaps even gently tease Drew about the marks on his neck, claiming that they would have been caused by me, he barely even spoke up, except for when he asked Laurence to pass him the ketchup. His behaviour was highly suspicious and I found myself carefully studying his demeanour throughout breakfast, occasionally turning away to try and tell the others to stop bombarding Drew with questions, though they didn't listen. To me, kier seemed as though he was incredibly guilty of something, yet I knew better than to question him at the breakfast table, just in case it was something serious.

Whilst I wanted to know just as much as the others what caused the purple marks on Drew's neck (probably even more than they did), I knew that pressuring Drew to answer their questions would not help the situation at all. In fact, that would just make it ten times worse. Drew would feel as though he was being backed helplessly into a corner, forced to answer the questions and that would just make him resist answering more. If you put too much pressure on him, he would crack. I knew that from experience. He wasn't as strong as people thought, and I had found that out the hard way.

If Drew wanted to confess to me what had happened, he would do it on his accord and I his own time, without me pressuring him relentlessly. He would tell me when he felt truly comfortable saying it and I knew that when he felt able to tell someone, he would come to me first. I wouldn't judge him or have a go at him because, after all, he is a teenage boy and he was going to experiment slightly at some point. At least, that's what I hoped had happened...

I quickly shook off that dark thought, of somebody forceful biting at Drew's neck to create such a prominent mark. Just the idea of it made my blood boil and filled my veins with seething hot anger, as well was making me want to cry. If anyone dared to touch my little, innocent Drew like that, or even hurt the smaller timid in anyway, I would be sure to lose my rag with them, no matter what . Perhaps I would even attack them and see how they liked it. Heck, I would even make them bleed, just to protect him. I would do anything, just to protect him.

I guess it was in times like these when I truly realised the extent of my feelings for Drew. It was times like these, when Drew was sad or upset or somebody had done something dreadful to him, that my feelings were also most exposed to the others. Whilst they too could be heavily protective over Drew, I tended to push things over the limits, screaming profanities about the 'stupid twat-face dipshit cunts' and how much I would like to 'fucking decapitate them and stuff their fucking heads in blenders'. The others often grew close to discovering the truth when I was like this and when I had calmed slightly I would be bombarded with questions and suspicious stares but luckily, Drew was oblivious