Oreo

Chapter 39: Tired

Orion's POV~

The two of us stood inside the house by the front door.  Thin layers of dust coated everything from the month's time in which it had last been occupied.  It wasn't a particularly tidy place yet it also wasn't particularly messy.

There was a television propped up on a cheap stand likely from Goodwill, a old loveseat before it and a small, round table off to the side with three mix-matching chairs.  Random papers and pens were scattered across it's surface, some appearing to be documents, old envelopes, reciepts and other random shit.  There were a few empty cups on the coffee table as well as a half empty bottle of vodka on the end.  The counters in the kitchen still had a few dirty plates and bowls as well as some grime that hadn't bean cleaned for a while around the sink and stove top. 

An uneasy chill washed over me as I glance nervously at Romeo.  His expression was blank, but his green eyes held agony and despair.  He only skimmed across the whole of the living room and kitchen area before briskly pacing towards the hall and into the back bedroom.  Not wanting him to be alone, I followed him.  He might want a bit of space being in what used to be his "home", but there was no way I was gonna risk anything.  If he suddenly broke down, I wanted to be there for him.

"Is there anything particularly you want help carrying out of here?" I asked in a cautiously tone, trying not to sound too gentle or like I was rushing him.

His lips pressed together as he analyzed the room.  A full sized bed was laid on the floor, a red blanket and a duvet haphazardly strewn across it and four pillows messily lined and stacked at the head.  Beside it was a desk with a decent looking monitor, a gaming keybord and mouse, a laptop, a few notebooks and other random gadgets.  The computer was precariously placed under the desk just out of the way of feet.  The office chair seemed cheap and worn.  There was a dresser against the wall and another shoved in the open closet, where on top sat a jar of Mary Jane, a bong, a mirror and a lighter.  Aside the first dresser was a larger televion than the one out in the living room, and much nicer.

"I guess... The televisions.  They're not that bad and it would be a shame if we let them go to waste..." He finally answered in a very monotone voice.  It didn't sound bothered in the least.  Just bored, if anything.  "Also, the computer and laptop... Ah, but the TV out there is crap."

"Okay..." I went over to the desk and started unhooking the PC and it's essentials.  Meanwhile, Romeo ventured into the closet.

The both of us had got a ride to Romeo's old house from T, who had chosen to wait outside and keep watch in case of any potential danger or whatever her reasoning was.  We were going to use her car to move everything of Romeo's back to our apartment.   I had gotten a notice from the police station stating that we only had until the end of the month to get whatever he wanted to keep and then they would trash the rest.

I wonder if mom and dad trashed my shit...

Romeo's POV~

I managed to pack up the rest of my clothes that I had abandoned in my rush to break away from this nightmare of a house.  Just looking at the large jar of weed he had kept on my dresser reminded me of how many times I had snuck hits while he was at work.  How many times I got high just to numb myself from all the anxiety and stress that he caused me day after day.  To convince myself that I was fine.  That I was strong enough to make it through until I had enough money or knew how to drive so I could finally escape. 

Except I knew that I'd never make enough to get away.  I knew I'd never have the guts to get past just turning on the ignition.

If I hadn't met Orion, I probably would've continued living in that woven lie.  I would have kept on decieving myself.  You're safe so long as you keep playing along with his game.  Just keep pretending.  You're strong.  Don't break to him.  Don't cry or show him any weakness.  Smile.  Laugh.  Comply.  Ignore the other part of your mind that's screaming at you to bite off his tongue or his dick or whatever's closest to you.  Don't fight him.  You have his trust.  He's already been decieved by you; now just tough it out until you have the resources to make a run for it.