keep me cold

I'm not

there is paint... everywhere. tins upon tins lie across the beige carpet, their colours contrasting or blending. paint brushed lie around next to the tins, some clean and new, some streaked with liquid colour. among this mess, Sam sits cross legged facing the large blank wall. a large white t-shirt hangs from his sturdy shoulders, his dark green t-shirt discarded a few meters away. i lie sprawled across my bed that's now positioned in the center of the room, exhausted from the days work. all we did was go to B&Q, but i know that's not why I'm exhausted. his eyes still burn in my minds eye. i watch, in awe, as Sam confidently drags a red pencil across the wall, flowing lines forming shapes.

"you sure you're allowed to do this?" Sam's deep voice breaks the comfortable silence, bringing me out from my hypnotic state. he glances at me over his shoulder. 

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?" he puts down his pencil and turns completely round to face me, his legs sill crossed in front of him like a child. 

"your landlord doesn't mind?" his voice is laced with doubt and a look of confusion is clear on his face. i mentally sigh. time to explain.

" i don't have a landlord." i say, running my hand through my thin hair, pulling it slightly at the ends, examining the split ends. from out of the corner of my eye i see his eyebrows furrow, shrouding his deep eyes in shadows. "i bought this flat." i shuffle uncomfortably, avoiding his inevitable eye contact.

"wha- how?!" he stutters, jumping from his cross-legged position to resting his weight on his knees, leaning forward. i sigh, sitting up and dangling my legs off the edge of the bed. finally faring to look at him, his expression makes me smile. his eyes are wide and his mouth forms a perfect 'o'. "how in the hell are you able to buy a flat? let alone one this fucking nice! i can barely buy pot noodles!" a laugh. it is absurd that i own a flat in the city center of Edinburgh at the age of 19. then again, Kylie Jenner was a millionaire at 19 so... its not that crazy. 

"i borrowed some money from my dad." it's not a lie. i stand up, weaving my way through the chaos towards the door. "you want something to eat? drink?" i say, pausing within the door frame. 

"yeah i'll have tea." he says quietly, still dumbfounded. i nod and leave the room. as i walk down the bare hall i hear him let out a large sigh and mutter "what the fuck." a second later the quiet scrapings of pencil on wall continue. i walk into the kitchen and head straight for the kettle. as i fill it up at the sink my eyes get lost in the stream of water. the light glances off of it and shines onto the silver basin in small light fragments, they look almost like broken glass.

the glass lay across the carpet, leading to the window. a strong breeze draws in and out of it, pulling the light curtains with it. the fabric catches on one of the shards still protruding from the frame and a low ripping noise emits through the frozen air. my hands are gripped over my head where its tucked between my knees. my nails dig into my scalp but i can hardly feel it. my whole body shakes as cold air rattles through my lungs, the bare skin of my back is pressed against the stained walls, my prominent spine uncomfortably pressed against the cold hard surface. i don't dare look up. i don't want to see. the sounds were enough to tell me what had just happened. i slowly process it. my clouded mind churning mechanically. a grunt. the smack of skin to skin connection. the crunch of a bone under a heavy boot. more grunting and a yell. "if you don't get the fuck out of my house in three seconds you're leaving through the fucking window!". one. nothing. two. silence. three. a great heaving noise and the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor. a great shattering. a scream. my scream. the hot acid tears burn my lips as they follow a trail down to my chin and onto my bare chest. a distant voice, getting closer. 

"Daniel." i blink rapidly. my wrist aches from something heavy I'm holding and i drop it instantly. it makes a horrendous bangs it hits the bottom of the sink. i take a step back and stumble over something that isn't there. just before i can hit the hard tiles, his arms are around my waist and he's holding me to him. my breathing hitches and before i can stop it, tears are cascading down my cheeks. my knees buckle beneath me and we both fall to the floor, me leaning into Sam as his strong arms hold me tight. 

"what have you done?" me?  i force my eyelids to peal back, the tears like glue, and slowly the room comes into view. the window is the first thing my eyes go to. the whole in it opens out to the dark night. raindrops fall slowly outside and start to build. "what have you done?" the question comes again, quieter. my eyes slowly pan round to where he stands. his entire 6 foot 4 frame is pressed up into the corner. his eyes burning into me. i slowly start to shake my head. 

"you- you- y-" i can hardly get one word out.

"you did this!" he suddenly jumps forward, making me flinch and duck my head again. "you did! it was you!" his screams are mad and run around my mind. i did this? no. it was him. he... 

"i didn-" he cuts me off, throwing himself at me again screaming into my face. 

"you did!" his breath hits my face like a wave of foulness. it's the kind of smell that could only come from a diet of take away and not having cleaned in seven months. "you were here..." he suddenly jumps back, his motions frantic and jarred. he points to the rickety kitchen table. "you were sitting here..." his eyes dart over the books that lie open. "studying! yes studying, and... and..." he looks to me again, scanning over my half naked body. "he tried to rape you!" 

"no." i whisper, but i know it's no use. 

"yes! yes! yes! he did!" he screams, picking up objects that lie in the table, only to replace them instantly "you didn't know what to do. you couldn't get him off you." he starts to jump from one foot to another. "you finally got him off you and you pushed him, real hard and... and..." he spins round to the window, pointing at it. 

"no." i say, slightly louder, my voice thick from tears. 

"yes!" he spins round to me again. "he tried to rape you. you pushed him. you did it." he mumbles his little story to himself as he stats to pace the floor, the glass crunching beneath his thick leather boots. 

"no!" i say, louder again. he ignores me. 

"he tried to rape you. you pushed him. you did it." 

"no i didn't!" i yell. he doesn't hear me.

"he tried to rape you." 

"no!"

"you pushed him."

"stop!"

"you did it."

"no i didn't!" i scream, finally getting his attention. he stops, dead in his tracks. his hand raises slowly as he turns to face me, a blank expression in his icey eyes.

"you're a murderer." 

"no! stop! i didn't!" my hands go to cover my ears as his words smash against my scull. 

"murderer! murderer! murderer!" 

"no! stop! i didn't!" strong arms hold me down, trapping me. i thrash out against them but my small lanky frame is no match.

"Daniel!" the voice is low and soothing. 

murderer. murderer. murderer. 

"i'm not! i didn't" i choke out through sobs, my limbs slowly starting to tire. 

"stop!"

murderer.

"I'm not!"i finally collapse. leaning into Sam's chest and letting the tears soak right through the shirt. 

"shh." a gentle hand strokes my hair. "you're not what?" i sob, unable to answer. "Daniel?" i look up through tear soaked eyelashes. "you're not what?" 

"I'm not a murderer."

{author's note}

hope that wasn't too confusing. i didn't have this little bit planned out but i thought the story needed to be a bit darker so... here you go. 

please tell me anything you would like to happen in the story.

if you liked this then vote and comment, it really helps fuel my narcissism.