⊰Room Service⊱

☁︎2☁︎

t.w

My eyes open groggily. I didn't know they still could. I'm fully clothed when my vision comes into focus, and this confuses me.

❝what the...❞ I stand up, and wonder off to the bathroom and run myself a bath. I throw in my favourite bath bomb and find all the soaps and bath gels I can get and place them on the side. I also dig in my bag and find my razor, throwing that to the side as well.

I slowly take off my clothes and stare in the mirror. Thick, purple bags hang under my eyes which seemed to be bulging. A strange greying forms beneath my cheekbones and around my mouth. My lips are purple and swollen. There are scratch marks all down my body, and bruising in certain areas. My hips are purple from all the grabbing, and there are even hand marks on my ass. A sob escapes my throat. It was real. It wasn't a nightmare, it happened.

I hop in the tub and scrub myself until my skin is a dark pink. Tears drop everywhere and the salty taste fills my mouth. I look at my razor.

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I sit on the bed, wearing black dungaree shorts, black thigh high socks and a black and white stripy t shirt that has long sleeves. My body is shaking violently and there are bandages under my sleeves. My eyes start to droop and my head starts to roll a little, but I don't let myself sleep. I can't see the horrors again, I can't pass out again.

A knock at the door.

I freeze.

❝room service.❞

❝c-come in❞ I stutter, and the pink haired boy comes in again. My arms are wrapped around my knees, my face buried in them.

❝I have some- wait. Are you alright, sir?❞ He asks, his expression softening with concern.

I nod slowly and shakily, but a sob escapes my throat.

❝It's alright, you can talk to me.❞

I shake my head. ❝I- I can't.❞

❝Come on, who is there to tell? Nobody really likes me here anyway.❞

I look up at him, shaking violently still, rubbing my bloodshot eyes.❝why?❞

❝because I'm different.❞ He says, gesturing to his choice of clothing, hair, and himself in general.

❝So am I.❞ I admit, nibbling my swollen lip before grimacing.

❝I like your different.❞ The boy nods, smiling and looks down at his lap. ❝Do you want to talk, or I can leave you alone. If that's what you want.❞

I stare into his honey brown eyes in thought, before blushing. ❝- I - they... oh gosh.❞ I stutter, and I fall into his chest, sobbing.

❝It's alright, don't cry. I've got you... what's your name?❞ He questions, wrapping his arms tightly around me and putting his chin on my head.

❝T-t-Tyler.❞

❝Tyler. I like that. I'm Josh.❞

I end up telling him the entire story, while he holds my hand tightly and hugs me when it gets tough to say. I throw my heart out to him, and he catches it. He holds it and he cradles it with gentle hands. Hands that don't grab the parts of my body that are only mine to see.

Hands that don't bruise me.

By the end of the story, I'm in Josh's arms and he's hugging me close to him, running his fingers through my hair and telling me it's okay.

❝I have to go. But I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Be safe, and don't hurt yourself anymore.❞

I give a nod and a small smile. ❝Thank you.❞

❝What for?❞

❝Everything.❞

He gives a soft smile and shakes his head gently.