Broken [boyxboy]

Chapter Four

Lawrence picked me up on Sunday. He had a shiny black car, big and posh. I was tempted to ask what kind it was, but didn't for fear that he didn't want me to speak until spoken too or something. As a result of that, we carried on the journey to his house in absolute silence. He drove up the gravel pathway and climbed out of the car. He moved round to my door, opened it and scooped me up into his arms. Carrying me newlywed-style into the house.

He set me down on my feet in the hallway and smiled at me. "What's in the bag, sweetie?" he asked, pleasantly enough.

"I've brought some clothes," I said.

"You needn't have, bless you," he chuckled. "I had some made up for you."

"H-how did you know what sizes?" I said, curious at the same time that I didn't want to know the answer. He smiled again.

"I measured while you were unconcious," he said. "I have my own tailor - I guessed by what you wearing the kind of thing you'd want, but I was also a little selfish. I bought some clothes I thought I'd like you in."

"O-oh," I said. "U-um. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my dear," he smirked. "They're in the wardrobe in our room, if you want to go and have a look."

"O-our room," I repeated, quietly. It sounded a little bit weird. He smiled.

"That's right," he said in that slow, loud, bright voice people use for toddlers. "Our room."

"I'm sorry. I just... it's weird," I said. "Calling it our room. I-I've never shared a room with anyone before."

He peered at me thoughtfully before speaking again. "I think we should spend a little while becoming properly accquainted before we do anything else," he said. "Come on."

He strode towards the kitchen-cum-dining room and I scurried after him. "Have a seat," he waved a hand towards the chairs at the table. I sat obediently and he busied himself with the kettle.

"Tea or coffee?" he asked.

"Coffee. Please," I said.

"Milk and sugar?" he wanted to know. I cleared my throat.

"Yes, please. Two, please," I said. He made it for me, and a cup of tea for himself, then sat down opposite me.

"So. Tell me about yourself," he said. I swallowed.

"U-Um... what do you want to know?" I said. I could see him getting annoyed, but he smiled.

"Everything," he said. His eyes flashed to my bag. "Have you only brought clothes?"

"N-No," I said. "Some bits and pieces too... I dunno if I'll be allowed to keep them..."

"Let me see," he extended a large, pale hand and I put my bag into it. He unfastened it and emptied to contents onto the table. He pushed the clothes to one side, and rifled through the items that were left. My iPod, a sketchpad and some colouring pencils, as well as several ordinary graphite pencils. "This should all be okay..." he said. He picked up the last item and smiled. It was a frame, containing my favourite photo of me, Rae and Mum. He stroked the glass over Rae's face. "Is this your dad?" he asked.

"No. My brother," I swallowed. "R-Raven. My dad died before I was born."

"I'm sorry," he said. "He's quite handsome." he commented. Then he looked up at me and grinned. "Not a patch on you, though." That shocked me. Raven was incredibly good looking - certainly much more so than me. Everyone thought that. He always had everyone trailing after him - all the girls and most of the boys at school, even a couple of teachers. I must have audiably scoffed, because Lawrence looked confused. "What?"

"You," I shrugged. "Saying that I'm better looking than Raven. Everyone thinks he's better looking than me."

"So you live in his shadow?" Lawrence said.

"No... I just... he's really handsome," I said. "I'm not."

"You're terribly judgemental of yourself," he said. "I think you're lovely, Myth."

"Thank you," I blushed deeply.

"It's adorable when you blush," he smirked. He noticed my empty cup and smiled, getting to his feet.

"Here. I'll make you another," he said, going over to the counter. I swallowed deeply.

Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought.