warning // after this chapter, stuff in this story will be getting heavier. read with caution
Josh's long eyelashes flutter against his cheek as he gains consciousness once again, a groan escaping his chapped lips when he registers the ache in his neck is worse than before. He can't remember much, though he tries his hardest nothing comes back.
Josh manages to lift his heavy head up, rolling it to the sides to take in his surroundings. He squints, the room is bright and smells of fresh paint. The bright white walls make his head spin, everything in the room seems freshly white. So, so bright. The few shades of pastel pink stands out; the bedsheets and decorations. He notices an outline of a bed in the corner of his eye, he can't turn his head much, it hurts so bad. The boy stares at the door a few feet in front of him, a mesh basket hangs from it, separate compartments filled with different kinds of stuffies, varying in shapes and sizes. It reminds Josh when he was a kid and used to have those in his room. They didn't really serve any purpose to him.
The boy's head drops forward out of exhaustion. Josh lets out a fearful squeak at the sight of a pastel pink blouse resting snuggly against his skin. It appears flawlessly ironed, not a single wrinkle in the fabric. A delicate pink bow lays flat against his chest, lace lining the sleeves. The fabric feels kinda tight around the boy, he assumes it's meant to be that way. Josh shuffles his legs, moving around in his sheer pastel pink skirt that the blouse is tucked into; both the same colour. Roses lined the skirt, giving it a bit of volume. The white knee-length socks rub against Josh's delicate skin creating a faint rustle as the boy struggles.
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Josh's head snaps up at the sound of a light tapping a few feet in front of him. It takes his eyes a minute to focus as he was still recovering from whatever made him go to sleep so suddenly. The boy's honey eyes stop on a small paintbrush in a man's large hand, lightly tapping it against an old cracked wooden pallet.
"I-Wh-" Josh roughly sputters out, his mind moving too fast for any words to form properly.
Josh's fearful eyes grow in size when he looks upward at the face of a man who had stolen him
"T-Tyler..?" The boy violently shakes his head in misunderstanding, "No, no, no,"
Josh's mouth is dry, he wants to smile but at the same time tears roll down his cheeks. Tyler, out of all people. Tyler, the man who he loved the most. Him. His kidnapper.
"Ty-" He cuts himself off of repeating, still dazed. "What-"
"Shush," Tyler gently smiles, resting his palm on the side of the boy's face "You're okay,"
"N-no," Josh tries to scoot back, figuring out his wrists had been bound to the side of the chair using a pretty white lace. "Get away from me!"
The man falters for a second, eyes showing something behind them as Josh yanks his head away from Tyler's hand. He silently watches the boy struggle to get free, waiting for him to calm down.
