Crying Out

Part Three: Beatings

Corbyn winced as peroxide bubbled on his wounds. Daniel sighed, dabbing as gently as he could. In these moments, the music was at its loudest, its saddest.

" I already know what you're gonna say," the smaller mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

" And yet, it keeps happening," his tone was curt, bitter. The citrus words stinging his taste buds. Corbyn's features scrunched, the lemon juice burning his throat.

" It was my fault," Daniel felt a brow twitch," I should've been more careful with the cup. He wouldn't have gotten upset if I had been," Corbyn justified his actions so easily. Was he really that far gone?

" Don't you ever fucking say that again," Daniel growled, blood-stained peroxide running down his clenched fist.

" Dani."

" No. How could you ever think this," he gestured to Corbyn. His bust lip, his swollen cheek, the open wound on his forehead," is a justified punishment for breaking a fucking cup? The damn thing wasn't diamond, Corbyn!"

" Calm down. You're getting worked up over nothing."

So that's what you are now? Nothing.

He swallowed the words, biting his tongue until it bled," give me the bandages," he muttered harshly.

The blonde did as told. Staying quiet as white sheets masked the horror of his love life. Hiding his sole imperfection behind pristine white.

" Don't be mad," Corbyn looked up to him. Frozen gems soft. Daniel sighed, leaning down to gently press their foreheads together.

" I don't like it when you're mad."

" I know," he whispered, Corbyn's arms were his bubble. Hiding them from everything, letting them forget. Even if only for a few seconds. Daniel shut his eyes, losing himself in the quiet melody the other's heart.

Their silence broken by another, much harsher song. Corbyn's was drowned out, returning to the melancholic symphony he had grown to hate.

" Hey Jeremiah."

♤
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