Summer Camp (Ryllon)

Three: Golden

-Dallon-

"Hey, Dallon. Whatcha need?" Dorothy asks, noticing the clothes. 

"My friend got hurt and I wanted to get some more bandages and possibly some pain meds?" I ask sweetly.

"You know I'm not allowed to give campers medicine for others," Dorothy says quietly. I raise an eyebrow. "Fine." She walks into another room, and comes out with more bandages and a small bag with two pain pills. 

"The best nurse of this camp," I say, smiling very faintly.

"And the only," Dorothy immediately adds.

"Still the best." I smirk. She giggles quietly.

"Have him take one now, then another in the morning. Come to me four hours after he takes it tomorrow and I'll give him another." I kiss Dorothy's cheek. 

"Thanks, darling," I say, grabbing the items and leaving.

"Don't get in trouble!" Dorothy calls after me. I walk out of the nurse's cabin, stepping into the warm afternoon. Dorothy is in her mid-twenties, is an official nurse, and has a girlfriend who works at the camp. They're sweet, basically been like an aunt to me.

Walking to my cabin was longer than expected. I keep getting stopped, others trying to catch up and hang out. They keep me for a good twenty minutes before getting distracted, allowing me to leave. I stop by the dumpster on the edge of camp, double checking the pockets. I feel something in the last pocket and pull it out.

It's his wallet. 

I throw the clothes away and open the wallet. In the picture pocket there is a polaroid of him and a girl with blonde hair. They're hugging and he is kissing her cheek. Must be his girlfriend. I pull it out, and a card falls to the ground. I grab it and dust it off. It's his driver's license.

'Ross III, George Ryan

DOB: August 30th, 1999'

I frown slightly. George Ryan Ross III. Huh.

I put the stuff back and continue walking.

Finally, I'm back. They made sure to have me stay in a cabin alone, as all camp crew know how much I dislike staying with someone else that I don't know. 

I unlock the door and step in, but stop, slowly closing the door and making sure I'm quiet.

This George Ryan Ross III is sat down on my bed, hugging his knees to his chest, peacefully asleep. He always looked scared when I was talking to him, but now that he's asleep, he looks so peaceful and soft. The golden glow is shining on him, making him look extremely beautiful. I scoff quietly. He's damn lucky to be pretty all the time, especially for a boy. 

I gently grab him, laying him down. I've fallen asleep in that position, and it hurts like hell when you wake up. My back and neck hurt for hours, I'm not gonna let him suffer that. I'm not a complete asshole. He hasn't done anything to me yet.

He moves, making a very quiet noise, which anyone would find adorable. He looks like a goddamn helpless puppy. 

I sit next to him, grabbing my book from the nightstand and reading it. He will be fine, but I still make sure to check on him every once in a while, before eventually realizing.

Why am I being so nice to him?