wrong number

feelings (4)

3rd person POV

Darryl sighed, slumping his shoulders as he trudged towards the school gates. What's worse than normal Zak? A cranky, hungover Zak, of course. Darryl thought to himself, slightly shuddering at the thought of being hit again. It had been a whole three days since he's last seen Zak, and he was not keen on facing the man again.

As Darryl walked through the halls, he flipped his hood over his head, attempting to ignore the whispers as he tried to get to his locker.
"Look! You can still see the marks from Friday!"

"I heard that he's faking his sexuality for attention."

"Bullshit. He's such a slut. He just wants a chance to get a taste of both"

The whispers repeated like a mantra inside of his, whirring around his brain like a tornado. It hurt. Just when Darryl thought he was used to everything, he ends up getting hurt again. It was just an endless cycle that he couldn't seem to get rid of.

As Darryl walked into class, he noticed the whispers died down a bit, instead, being replaced with mixed glances. He sighed, walking over to his desk next to Vincent.
"Holy shit, dude. I heard what happened. Are you okay?" Vincent questioned, tracing his fingers over the purple print on Darryl's face.
"Does it look like I'm okay?" Darryl hissed, slightly flinching from the sudden contact. Vincent groaned, "I'm gonna have a word with him about this. I told him to stop hitting you, but he never listens."

Truth be told, Darryl hated that fact that Vincent is friends with Zak. However, he can't help but be happy that Vincent scolds him for the endless bullying. Not that Zak listens to him, be he can only try, can't he?

Lunch rolls around and Darryl finds himself sitting by himself. Vincent left for his student body meeting, leaving Darryl alone.
Zak's eyes softened slightly as he looked at the boy, who was now lightly picking at his food. His eyes trailed to the now lilac hand print on his face, feeling a small wave of guilt wash over him. However, not enough to cleanse the utter hatred he had for the boy. He was literally a walking sin, plus, he always gets him into trouble. What's not to hate?

Eyes not failing to leave the boy, he watched as he got up out of his seat and waddled to the bathroom.
Why do I feel as if the pit in my stomach is growing?