What happens when a fuckboy with some anger issues and a bad streak is forced to work alongside someone who's his opposite? And what happens if they can be ripped from him in seconds?
This story is not meant for anyone under the age of 18. It contai...
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Blue and purple bruises in the shapes of fingers. Tom's heart ached as much as his face and his hands balled into fists. Harrison is okay. He is but it's the fact that he has to have the marks of someone else on him on account of Tom that's going to eat at the pit of Tom's stomach. There might be a faint bruise decorating Harrison's pale skin but it's the fingerprints. The fingerprints are what hurt because Tom knows how hard the men had to try to hold Harrison back in order to leave those marks.
Harrison doesn't deserve any pain and he doesn't deserve the guilt of not being able to help his friend. He doesn't deserve what he witnessed. Had Tom listened the hundred times Harrison tried to be a voice of reason, it wouldn't have happened. None of it would have.
Harrison felt you and Tom staring as he reached to open the white and pink box of donuts. He glanced to his arms and rolled his shoulders, looking away from the two of you. The bruises were showing when he'd gone to shower before going to bed but by the time he woke up, he wasn't too concerned about what his arms would look like. His shoulders ached and his throat is a bit sore but he mostly just wanted to make sure Tom wasn't bullshitting and Tom was the one who was okay. A few fingerprint bruises weren't going to get the best of him
He grabbed a jelly-filled donut and leaned back in his seat. "What?" He asked before taking a bite.
"Be back. Need a minute." Tom mumbles before his chair squeaks across the tile while he gets up and heads down the hall, a door slamming a shut a few seconds later.
You watch the hallway for a few seconds before looking back to Harrison. You were going to ask if you should be worried and if Harrison was okay while also wanting to ask for the exact details, but, Harrison beat you to the quiet air.
"You're still here." Harrison says and a soft grin dances onto his face.
The statement catches you off guard because of course he knew you were there. Tom told him so it shouldn't need to be stated. And a statement like that is usually stated when someone has overstayed their welcome but the look on Harrison's face and the tone of his voice is telling you the exact opposite.
"Yeah," You say, your hands fiddling with the warm coffee sleeve.
"He ask you to stay?" Harrison asks.
"Kind of...yeah." Your cheeks turn a little red, not sure if you're supposed to tell Harrison anything and if you should be talking about you staying when Tom's down the hall, a little too quiet for your own comfort. "Should I go check on him?"
"Kind of?" Harrison's brows furrow with the question before he shakes his head and the curious grin falls. "Nah," He finishes his donut. "Tom's not violent, really." Harrison's face scrunches for a few seconds. "But he's got his moments where he can get mean. He needs to cool off and it's best to leave him be."
"Uh," You chew on your bottom lip, fingers still playing with the sleeve on your cup. "I don't know how much I'm supposed to tell you." You whisper through an awkward chuckle. "Are you sure though? I just," You take in a deep breath. "I don't know. I worry, I guess."