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guzma laid there in his bed, gingerly touching the the small bandage you had attached to his face to protect the tiny gash on his face. staring up at the roof, lips parted in a small pout. he snuggled into his pillow, strobe lights from the party going on next door. the soft plush of his pillow scratched gently against the small stubble on his chin, making him smile slightly.
loud music blasted from next door, making guzma squirming slightly in his bed. the sheets rustled as he threw them off him form, getting up from cheap mattress. his half-lidded, grey eyes scanned the room, finding the remote for his television. turning on the small device, he lazily chise a channel that seemed mildly interesting.
"god, i need a cigarette." he grumbled lazily, pulling a cigarette from its pack and lighting it casually. holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment, he thought of you. the white-grey smoke drifted from his mouth in soft tufts, making the air smell like something was burning. nobody had ever clean him up, not like that.
not even his own parents. to be fair, guzma didn't give a fuck about them anyways, but he probably wouldn't have turned or as a gang leader if they had actually cared. walking nonchalantly to the porch of his run-down, one-room apartment, he watched light burst out if the neighbour's window.
guzma looked tiredly out to the horizon, where he could barely make out the outline of his childhood hell. his mother and father still lived there, so he didn't dare go back. as he took another drag, guzma furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about his father. his entire childhood, guzma had been ridiculed and beaten by his father.
at 16, guzma finally made the decision to run away. in a very kind course of action, guzma's uncle had allowed him to stay at his house and let him finish his apprenticeship. everyone knew the story after that. hau's grandfather hadn't approved of guzma's (winning) tactics, and guzma ran away from there, too.
he had nowhere to turn. his uncle had moved away to kalos, refusing to bring guzma with him. his father would beat him if he went back to his own home, and his old master would reject his attempt to return to the apprenticeship. guzma was alone in the world. until he started the gang. the gang was the family guzma never had. they helped each other out, unlike his parents. it was almost 2 am at that point, and guzma knew he shouldn't have been up. so, he laid down and attempted to sleep.
☆~____♡____~☆
when you woke up, you were almost too tired to function. you had stayed up almost all night, thinking about why guzma would punch someone and risk possibly going to jail for you. and, sure, maybe you had spent an hour or two binging law and order (the special victims unit, we're not animals.)
