AGALMATOPHILIA

_-:22:-_

The bed in the middle of the shared bedroom of Josh and Brendon, a few centimetres too tall for Tyler to rest his feet comfortably on the floor, was where the frightened Joseph boy perched himself.

Upon first glance to the window he had previously tried to make a speedy exit from, Tyler's attention is drawn to the dry blood smeared along the floor and wall.

By it sits a bucket filled with soapy water, and a scrubbing brush.

It looks cold, obviously sitting out for too long as the bubbles floating on the surface had deflated significantly, a strange milky like colour filled the water, and Tyler visibly cringed at it.

Tyler discards this information, fiddling with his hands, he glances down at the angry wound across his entire palm.

It's swollen, crusted. The tan boy can barely move his fingers without tearing the scab open, so he clenches his fingers around it, hissing under his breath.

Josh enters, some articles of clothing in hand, pausing for a moment when he enters the room, half watching the shy boy with the sheet once again around his shoulders as he sits with shoulders slumped, cupping his right hand and cradling it like a small kitten.

Placing the variety of clothing neatly atop the bedspread, he rounds to Tyler's side, towering the kid with a stern once over.

Tyler remains with his gaze to his own hand, shying away from the presence beside him, too weak and ashamed by his actions in the kitchen to look at his kidnapper.

"You've got a few choices here," the dollmaker sighs, fixated on Tyler's clenched hand.

"Thank you," the smaller whispers.

"What's this?" Abruptly, the older wraps Tyler's frail wrist with his careless grip and pulls his hand upwards to get a closer look.

The younger panics, tearing his arm away, cradling it to his chest,

"Nothing," the thumping that reigned throughout his chest erupts once again, the familiar tang of terror runs down the back of his throat with a thick swallow, the aura of the dollmaker beside Tyler grows darker.

Tyler can feel the negative energy spread through the air like a spore, planting itself within his lungs and sucking out any source of oxygen, slow panic settles in once he realises he can barely breathe.

"Clearly not, let me see," Josh gestures for the younger's hand once again, refusing the smaller shakes his head.

"Tyler, all you see from me is hurt, let me show you that I can heal too," crouching to become almost eye level with the hostage, Josh holds a hand out for Tyler, who only stares at the gesture and sighs.

"Why would you want to?" Before Josh can answer Tyler's eyes lock to Josh's and overflow with tears.

Josh rolls his own eyes subtly, biting back on a scolding Tyler should receive for the waterworks.

Josh hates crying.

"I'm so confused by you, all you do is scare me and touch me and want me but then you push me back and blame me for everything, why am I even here?"

The fire haired man doesn't reply, nothing to say.

Tyler keeps his watery jewels on Josh's clear ones, seeing no change with his expression yet his eyes soften, somewhat empathetic, but only slight.

"I don't know Tyler, I just like you," finally Josh spits, but no more dialogue is shared between the two.

The tan boy sniffles softly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.