Blood Donor | Dark Romance | MxM [COMPLETED]

7.4

The question causes me to flinch, and my hand's at my throat before I can think about what I'm doing. Shit. I glance at her quickly, just to see her staring at me in disbelief, eyes wide. Not that it matters, but I massage my neck as if that had been my intention all along. She doesn't buy it. Her fingers clench around my other hand.

„Ally, talk to me. That's not an argument," she presses intently.

„It was," I reply weakly, lowering my gaze to the floor. Suppressing a pathetic sob, I press my lips into a thin line. So not alright. And I said I wasn't angry or anything. Not angry, but definitely anything.

„Oh, honey."

She sounds every bit as much in pain as I am, then pulls me close into a tight embrace. My shoulders tremble. It's too much. I bury my face in the side of her neck, sobbing soundlessly. It's just too much. Who the hell has to deal with stuff like this? I know he can get violent, but he's never done anything besides biting me. Guess that's off limits right now. Still, kicking me out like that is ridiculous.

„Do you want to tell me what happened?" she coaxes softly, but I just shake my head, causing her to sigh in resignation. My phone buzzes and I flinch in surprise, then move away from her to get a look at the screen. Dael Leandro. Suddenly, she snatches the phone from my hand, taking the call while she holds her other hand up to stop me from interfering. Oh no.

„No, it's not Allorian. I'm his mother. Now, listen carefully, you jerk. I won't have my son associating with people like you, so stay away from him," she informs him matter-of-factly, though there's a dangerous edge to her voice that I've never heard before. She puts the phone back onto the table, call terminated. Sighing, she looks back at me, into my eyes.

„Sorry, Ally, but I'm not letting this go any further. He hurt you. That's not how a relationship is supposed to be like," she explains, dead serious. I know she's right, but, that's it? Just like that? My gaze darts to the phone as it buzzes again, but she puts her hand on top of it before I can reach it. Slowly, I lower my hand back into my lap. It hurts. I want to talk to him. I want to know what he wants to say.

„I'll give your phone back to you tomorrow. Think about this a little, will you?" she presses, storing the buzzing phone away in a pocket before she gets up to take the food out of the oven. All the while, my phone keeps buzzing. It's stupid, but when it stops after a few minutes, I feel disappointed.

We eat in silence, though I'm certain mom wants to ask me tons of question. None of which I want to answer. I'm not really hungry anymore as well, but she cooked for me even though it's not even noon, just to welcome me back home – and I need to eat.

Afterwards, I return to my room, accompanied by a meowing Freckles. I simply drop onto my bed, arms spread wide. Freckles starts headbutting my hand until I pet him, then he purrs contented. My mind's exhausted, but even though my body feels weak, sleep evades me. Probably an hour later, maybe even more, I get up with a sigh. Painting's always helped me, for better or worse, so I guess that's the best decision.

I try to paint the uneasiness inside my chest, but that turns out to be an unaccomplishable task. There's just too much I'm not sure about. My feelings, for example. I like him, a lot. Is it love? When I look up at him and he smiles at me, my heart flutters happily. When he pins me down with a malicious grin, it clenches, frightened. That's not love, not then.

The fear is another thing I can't wrap my mind around. I know he won't harm me, but then again, he does. Not seriously, but maybe my perceptions a bit off when it comes to that. Obviously, mom is appalled by what he did to me. Shit, he choked me hard enough to leave marks. Not that those are anything compared to what he did to that guy.