Bandaged & Damaged {BoyxBoy & FIN & EDITING}

chapter five

Pierce's friend made it known that he didn't like me. He would try to trip me, push me against the wall, or glare at me. If looks could kill, I would have been dead. It was getting quite annoying and boring.

I was used to Miles's bullying only because it was teasing, and it was more of brotherly love, not hatred for each other. Pierce would invite me to his table, but I declined for an unknown reason. Or at least I was telling myself that. I knew the real reason why I kept declining, but I didn't want to admit to it.

The annoying bothering from Pierce's friend and Pierce questioning why I decline to sit with him and his friends are affecting not only my school work but my self-esteem. I never had much confidence due to staying home most of the time and not caring what others thought, and I still don't, but it was tiring, and it made me wondered what did I do to cause a prick to annoy the hell out of me? I could breathe, and Pierce's friend would attack me.

I haven't told Easton and the events that have been happening because he was stressed out due to midterms and essays. He had fewer classes than me but more work. The only time I saw him was in our room studying, eating, drinking, or sleeping, and he would always leave a note in the morning when I wake up to say good morning and leave me breakfast. Though we don't hang out as we used to, he had a place in my heart. I started to believe in friendship.

Until he fucked up.

I walked down the hall with my textbooks in my head. I minded my own business when my books were knocked out of my hands. I quickly bent down and grabbed them, trying to make sure they are still in perfect condition. I was suddenly grabbed and pushed to the wall. I looked at a pair of green eyes that had the same emotion: anger.

No one but him pissed me off. Miles tried to get a reaction from me but not a specific type of emotion. But this person, whoever he was, and I didn't care to find out his name, was trying too hard. Whatever he was trying to be, I didn't have the time or energy to care.

"Whatever you are trying to do, I don't care. I don't care to know your name, what you're trying to do, or who you're trying to prove, but please leave me the fuck alone," I said calmly so he can get it through his thick skull.

I said it as nicely as I could, but the reaction I wasn't really trying to aim for appeared. I felt his hands loosen on my shirt, and he took a few steps back, confusion clouding his anger.

"Why won't you get mad? Is something wrong with you?"

"Is something wrong with you?" I said sharply. I expected another punch to my gut, but he flinched and took another step back, almost like I was the one who punched him at that time. I sighed. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," he said quickly and glared at me. "I just want to fuck with you."

"You're wasting your time," I said in a bored tone. "If you've paid attention, you would have noticed that you won't get a reaction from me."

"You don't break easily," he said and ignored my comment. "I almost envy that." Envy? For not reacting? It seemed like the opposite since Miles wanted me to respond, and now this person was telling me that he was "envy" that I couldn't react?

"What?"

"I'm Nixon," he said calmly and waited for me to shake his head. He was crazy. One second he wanted to beat my ass, but then he strangely complimented me and acted like we're best friends all of a sudden. How are Pierce and Nixon friends? They are complete opposites. Then I thought back to Easton, and I. Easton was the popular, outgoing fit guy while my heart was stone cold, but he wanted to be my friend, out of all people. I stared at him blankly, and without saying anything, I walked away from him.

"Hey!" He shouted. "Don't walk away from me? I'm fucking talking to you!"

I ignored his shouts and made a left. Footsteps rushed behind me, and Nixon appeared next to me. "Hey, I'm fucking talking to you. Why did you walk away?"

"Maybe because I don't want to talk to you," I said and frowned when Nixon stood in front of me. He pointed his finger at my face, and his brown eyes glared at me. Why was he mad? Why me?

He opened his mouth to say something when he closed it and sighed deeply, grabbing my wrist and pulling me where he was going.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Somewhere," Nixon replied. I let him take me wherever he wanted to go only because I was tired of arguing with me, and I was slightly curious where he was taking me. He made a right and a left and dragged me down the hall. Nixon stopped in front of a brown door that had the numbers 1005.

He was a couple of doors away from me. No wondered I saw him almost every day. He took out his keys and opened the door and pulled me inside. He closed the door behind him, and I stood in front of his complex room. His room was similar to a line but larger and whiter.

The only thing that was on his wall was a painting of a little boy crying. I wanted to take my eyes off of the strange and creepy art, but behind those, the young boy's eyes, the blankness, the emptiness made me feel like I was dead, like I was the painting. I tore my eyes away from it and stared at Nixon. He was staring at the painting too.

"Why did you bring me here?" I said.

"His eyes. They are exactly like yours, no purpose, no meaning," Nixon said, ignoring my question, but I got my answer.

Nixon wanted me to come to his room to show me a painting that was in his place. I didn't know why he wanted to show me, but I wished he never did. I never wished he showed me how dead I was inside, but at the same time, he made me realized that I needed to start living inside of dying.

"Did you paint this?" I mumbled, the boy's eyes glaring at me.

"No, my mom did and gave it to me. I didn't want it at first, but eventually, I decided to keep it and put it up. It freaks Pierce out," he said and chuckled.

Maybe to other people but to me it didn't. It wasn't beautiful or enchanting, but I understood it. "It's decent. Not college dorm material, though, but it's something."

Nixon chuckled and tore his eyes away from the painting. His green eyes never mine, searching in my soul for something. What was he looking for? I don't know.

"No," I whispered. "They're like yours."

Nixon's eyes flashed with shock and anger. His fists clenched, and he took a step to me but never got the chance to hit me because he took a step back and shook his head. "I...I don't understand."

"Don't understand me because it's not worth it." I turned around and walked out of his room. I left the door opened and looked over my shoulder to see Nixon staring at the wall. "My name's Jasper."

He slowly looked at me, and a small smile appeared. Who knew that smile was a nightmare?

~~~~~

Chapter four is up! The banner was made by @herosandcons
And I love it. The banner is NOT Nixon but another character that will come soon.

I hope you like this chapter and the last line is Jasper telling the readers that Nixon's is great and all but who knew a pretty smile was a nightmare?

And the painting of a crying boy is real, it's kinda creepy, lmao. Just Google crying little boy and it'll pop up.

Thanks for reading!