The Dutch Boy [BxB]

E L E V E N

"Holy shit." I muttered as I pulled up outside the store. I couldn't even muster the courage to get out of the car at first. The sight made me physically sick.

FAGGOT

It was written in big red letters, spray painted across the front of the store. The word was so bold and aggressive that at first, I didn't even notice Theodore curled up on the floor, leant up against the glass door of the shop.

As soon as I saw him, I threw the car door open. He shakily stood up as he saw me approach, his head lolled forward, hiding his face from me. I didn't care if he was crying, if his eyes were puffy and red, if tear tracks stained his cheeks. I just flung my arms around him and yanked him towards me, pulling him into my chest.

He stiffened at the contact, but quickly loosened up, burrowing his face into my shoulder as my arms snaked around his slim waist. His small frame vibrated with sobs, his fingers balling into fists, grabbing handfuls of my jacket. I wasn't sure how long we stood there for, rocking gently back and forth, my nose buried into his silky hair. He smelt like lavender.

He was the first to pull back, wiping his eyes with his sleeve in embarrassment, "I-I'm sorry-"

"Who did this?" I demanded.

He looked down, suddenly fascinated by a murky puddle swirling with mud. "I-I don't know." He whispered.

"Yes, you do." I countered, immediately scolding myself for speaking so bluntly to such a fragile boy. "It was him, wasn't it?" I urged gently. "That kid. Eddie."

"N-No...it..." He struggled, but it was unconvincing. He stammered for a minute longer before finally admitting defeat and shutting his mouth.

"Was he the one who fucked with your bike?"

He glanced up at me, his blurry eyes supplying a clear answer. "S-Sorry you had to l-leave school, I-I didn't know who else to call, I j-just-"

"It's okay." I promised. "Seriously, Theodore. It's okay. Call me whenever."

He smiled softly, "Th-Thank you, Luca." He whispered. "S-Sorry everything about me is so m-messed up."

I sighed heavily, "Trust me, you're not messed up." I assured him. "I've done some pretty fucked up shit in my life."

"L-Like what?"

I gazed down into his sparkling eyes. They looked so gentle, and so kind. I felt like I could tell him anything and he wouldn't judge me. And so I found myself telling him the one thing I'd not mentioned since leaving the Netherlands. "I tried burning down my school."

His lips parted in shock, his eyes widening. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to pick the right words to string together. "You..." He cleared his throat. "W-What?"

I sighed, sitting down crosslegged on the hard, wet ground, my back pressed up against the wall of the shop. Theodore hesitantly sat down beside me, watching me, analysing me. "I was ten, almost eleven." I supplied. "The kids at school...they used to tease me, make fun of me, bully me." I explained. "I got so fed up that one day I just..." I stopped dead, tilting my head back to stare at the sky, the clouds rolling around and drifting away peacefully. "I didn't think. I never...I never thought about what would actually happen. I was so caught up in the moment, it's not like I'd planned any of it. I didn't intend to hurt anyone, I didn't intend...anything really." I said quietly. "It's kind of like an illness; pyromania."

I didn't look at him. I couldn't. I couldn't see the hurt on his face, the betrayal, the shock, the disgust, the disappointment. But then I felt his head drop to my shoulder as he shuffled closer. His gentle breathing tickled my neck and I was involuntarily reminded of my vivid dream. "That's why you moved?" He whispered encouragingly.