reflection | scömìche

chapter fifteen

i don't know why i'm updating so much

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"So. Why have you been staying after every night?" a voice suddenly spoke, and Mitch whirled to see John. He bit his lip and took a step back, glancing around for Scott. However, the general was over on the other side of the field helping some other soldier, so Mitch knew he was on his own. "Um..." He hesitated, trying to think of an excuse. "I n-need extra practice..." John laughed and shoved him. "Of course you do. But I think there's another reason behind it, slut."

Mitch whimpered quietly and shook his head. "N-No..." John rolled his eyes and got right down into his face, his eyes dancing evilly. "Liar. I've been watching you. He's been taking you back to his tent every night since I got here," he sneered, and Mitch's heart began to race, terrified they'd get found out. "H-He has weapons in there," Mitch lied weakly, hoping John wouldn't see through it. John's eyes darkened and he shoved Mitch again, hard enough to knock the boy to the floor. Mitch cried out quietly at the pain, but John kicked him in the stomach and stepped on his chest so he couldn't get up. "You can lie all you want, you little bitch, but I know that you and the general are doing something you're not supposed to. I will find out, and when I do, I'll make sure you're given what only a whore like you deserves."

Mitch felt tears form in his eyes, but he didn't allow himself to cry. He got up as soon as John walked away and wrapped his arms around himself to shield himself from the rest of the soldiers. As much as it pained him to admit it, he knew he couldn't afford to go back to Scott's tent that night. John would follow them and hear them, and he couldn't let Scott get hurt.

When training was over, Mitch stayed back like he usually did, trying his best to ignore John's hateful gaze burning into his back as the taller man went back to his tent. Scott turned to see Mitch, and immediately a smile graced his lips. "Finally. I can have you again," he murmured, bending to connect their lips, but Mitch forced himself to turn away. "Sir, I can't come back with you tonight," he whispered, his voice shaking with threatening tears. Scott frowned and pulled back, hurt flickering in his eyes. "What? Why not?"

"J-John cornered me today, s-sir. He said he'd find out what w-we were doing, a-and I don't want to risk anything. L-Let's just wait a few days."

"Oh. Okay," Scott said quietly, taking a step away from him. Mitch felt his heart crack in his chest, and a lump formed in his throat. "S-Sir, I'm sorry, b-but I c-can't let you get h-hurt." Scott nodded slightly, his face hardening. "Yeah. I get it." Mitch let out a small whimper, and the tears began to flow down his cheeks. "P-Please don't be mad at me, s-sir..." he almost sobbed, wishing more than anything to collapse in Scott's arms. Mitch's tears seemed to make Scott come to his senses, and he pulled Mitch into his arms, rubbing his back. "It's okay, baby. I understand," he murmured. Mitch sighed shakily in relief and pressed himself against Scott's chest. "Th-Thank you, sir," he said softly, nuzzling against him. "One last kiss?" Scott whispered, and as much as the three words pained him, Mitch nodded slightly and stood on his tiptoes to press their lips together.

Before long, Mitch forced himself to pull away and step out of Scott's arms. "I'll miss you," he whispered, brushing away his tears. "Don't say that. We'll still see each other," Scott told him gently, and Mitch smiled weakly, even though his tears continued to fall. He had to bite back an "I love you", and he pressed a quick kiss to Scott's jaw before he turned and silently walked back to his tent.

Mitch's sleeping bag was too cold. He curled in a small, pathetic ball and buried his face in his pillow, crying quietly.