Breaking Free (BXB)

Chapter 17-Broken Pieces

The light from the balcony shined into my eyes, waking me up. Yawning, I stretched my arms out, remembering what Owen and I had done. I could still feel his lips on my skin and other places. We hadn't gone all the way, I was still so fragile from this whole ordeal, but it had been nice, for a little bit at least.

I had forgotten all about my time in the cells for one wonderful night. But those memories were still there, dark and haunting. Memories of darkness,  of loneliness and of pain. Carefully, cautiously, I felt the back of my head, tensing in fear of what I would find. But my fingers grazed soft hair and smooth skin. No scar, no scrape, no bruise, nothing at all. I was ok. But that was impossible.

"Milo, what's the matter." Guilt churned in my stomach and I glanced down to the floor, only to see Owen, curled up with a pillow and a blanket on the cold stone, gazing up at me. I frowned at him.

"Nothing," I answered, pushing any thought of the missing injuries to the back of my mind. I'd ask him later. "Why are you on the floor?" Owen stared at me, his brows curved in and his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Just because you gave consent for, uh, what we did, doesn't mean I had permission to sleep with you." He paused, then his eyes widened and his face turned a dark red. "Er, I just meant, with you, asleep, on that bed. Together." He coughed, his eyes wide, little bits of green glowing from the light shining on him. I laughed softly at his awkwardness.

"I wouldn't have minded." I felt something in me tug to tell him that it would always be ok for him to sleep with me, but maybe now wasn't the time to be saying things like that, considering what I had to do. The air was tense and heavy for a second, our eyes locked and swimming with heavy, sweet emotions that tugged at my heart. Owen looked like he wanted to say something, his mouth opening just a little before he sighed and his face changed to a lighter one. 

"Well," Owen clapped his hands together, his eyes darting to the side as he stood up. "Let's get you that haircut." I watched him slip out of the room, and I yawned, forcing myself to my feet. I was in comfortable fleece pajamas, despite falling asleep on Owen's chest.

Naked.

And then it hit me that I had actually done that. That I had let him do that to me. That was my first time ever doing something like that with someone. I had never gone past making out and had never actually lost clothes in the process. My face burned and I hid my face in my pillow.

"Oh my god!" I cried out, my voice muffled by the pillow. I felt like I was in a volcano. Of misery. And shame. Lots and lots and lots of shame. And maybe a little bit of pleasure, too. But mostly shame.  

"Hey, what's wrong?" Owen asked, holding a pair of clippers and an electric razor in his hands, concern etched on his face.

"Nothing." I squeaked out, looking up from the pillow, my face getting more red by the second. Owen gave me an odd look but didn't press it any further. Slowly, he pulled out the little settee bench at the end of my bed and placed his equipment there. Disappearing into the bathroom for a couple of seconds, he came out with a couple of towels in hand, placing them all around it, before gesturing to it.

Carefully, I moved over to the settee and sat, sighing as I gave my hair over to him. It was quiet as he took my hair gently, the snipping of the scissors the only thing either of us heard.

"Owen." I started, my mind wondering out loud. He hummed in response, focusing on cutting my hair. "If all of us here can shift into some kind of animal, what are you?" Owen choked, coughing a little bit.

"Uh, Milo. I know you aren't familiar with our customs, but those kinds of things are really personal." He said, his voice inflected with light humor.