Rubble and Zuma were undeniably close. The two best friends within the whole group. Practically joined at the hip. Zuma had helped Rubble out of an abusive relationship and had restored most of his usual happy self.
The blonde never saw the warning signs until it was too late.
For both him and his friend.
So that leads us to now.
"Zuma, I need you to breathe for me." The blonde said firmly to his friend who was sat on his bed, gripping the sheets and hyperventilating through his tears.
"I can't— I need— I don't kn—" he gasped out hoarsely.
"Zuma. Please, breathe." The blonde made sure the door was shut and sat opposite his slightly taller friend.
"I— I can't— I don't—"
"Zuma, here," Rubble took the shaking hand in his own and placed it to his chest, so Zuma could feel his own deep, controlled breathes. "Copy me. Okay?"
After some struggling, the brunette relaxed. His eyes were still wild with fear but he didn't look so pale anymore and could speak clearly even with the crying induced stutter.
"Okay. Now tell me, what's going on?" The shorter boy asked gently, his hands cupping his friend's cheeks and thumbs wiping his tears away.
"I-I-it's—" Zuma was cut off by his phone ringing. When he saw the contact name, he whimpered and backed up into the middle of his friend's bed, trying to get away from it.
It was his boyfriend.
Rubble looked between the two and stood to get the phone.
"Don't." Zuma choked out, his knuckles turning white as he clung to the sheets again. "Please. Please don't answer it." He begged. Rubble had never seen the brunette look so... small, helpless and vulnerable.
"I won't." He assured, turning back and sitting again. "But please tell me what's going on with you two?"
"You have to promise this stays between us?" Zuma whispered. Rubble nodded and watched as the brunette picked up his now silent phone, scrolling through messages between him and Daniel over the past few months.
Each time Daniel got more and more aggressive and manipulative. Zuma kept his head down in shame as the blonde read through the words.
Suddenly the mysterious bruises, scars and black eyes made sense.
When he got to one of their more recent affairs, he felt his blood boil.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"He used your dead name." The blonde muttered in a mix of anger and disgust.
"That was the night before he ripped my lip piercing out." Zuma mumbled onto his knees. Rubble looked up at him. "I lied when I said it got caught on my sheets."
