Pretty Boy [bxb] | ✔️

Chapter twenty-nine: The absence of parental love

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

Dinner is interrupted when the doorbell does off.

As I'm nearest to the door, I'm the one who has to get up and go to open it. When I do, I'm surprised to see a dishevelled Alex, still in school uniform with blood splatter decorating his white shirt, standing on my doorstep. I instantly notice the fact that he has a busted lip and the first thing that pops into my mind is that he's been in some sort of fight and got injured as a result of that.

"Oh my God, what happened?" I ask, ushering him into the house and closing the door.

"I got kicked out," he responds. I can't help but perceive the fact that he's oddly calm.

If my parents were to kick me out, I would be freaking out, most likely even hyperventilating. But that's just me. Alex is more composed in general, I guess. I don't need to ask why, though, because he continues anyway.

"My, um, my dad found out that I'm bi and wasn't too happy about it." He says.

I'm too stunned for words. I knew his dad was homophobic but to kick him out, on the whole, that was a different story. And it hurts me, knowing that someone could be so horrible as to kick their own blood out of the house they lived in and onto the streets. I don't understand it, and it breaks my heart that Alex is going through that.

"Did your dad hit you, Tesoro?" I can hear my mum say behind us.

I jump with a start, and we both spin to see that her eyes are wide with alarm. Alex clears his throat nervously and nods, to which my mum lets out a very audible gasp as her expression changes to pure hostility. My eyes widen like hers in shock.

"What a sick man!" She exclaims.

"Do you want to stay here for a few days while your dad calms down?" I ask without a beat, looking at my mother as if to ask for her permission. She gives me a quick nod, and I relax slightly from the tension I didn't know I was holding.

"I—" he starts, "I really wouldn't want to intrude."

"Don't be silly. You are staying here for as long as you need!" My mother declares, "Come here," she says, pulling him into a hug. He freezes for a second, which you would do if someone you hardly know hugged you, but then gradually relaxes. She pulls away from him, keeping her hands on his arms, "Have you got anything with you?"

"I've only got my phone and wallet on me. I wasn't thinking, it was a heated argument and my dad said he never wanted to see me again, so I stormed out without thinking to take anything with me." He turns to look at me, his expression now gradually turning into fear, so I take his hand in mine and hold it tight, "I can't go back to living there. Not with him."