TW: This chapter has a homophobic slur in it!!! It's only used once, but I would recommend being careful if that type of stuff bothers you in any way.
"What?! No way am I doing that shit." Bray yelled, his face turning a bright shade of cherry red. Curse the gods for making his skin as white as the paper he used to write on back in Kindergarten.
"Alright then, the local shelter is a good 20 minutes away from here. Have fun!" The man sarcastically said before closing the door halfway, stopping only because of the large foot that lodge itself between the door and its hinges.
"Wait, can't we talk about this a little further." Bray attempted to speak with fortitude, but all that came out was meekness and small little voice crack. He heard a light chuckle from the other side of the door—making him even more irritated than he already was. Stepping back slightly, Bray squared his shoulders and rammed into the door; effectively pushing his way into the condo and onto the hardwood floors.
Bray was immediately met with the scent of warm vanilla sugar from Bath & Body Works.
His mom used to love this scent.
He had always hated it.
Despite hating the smell that wafted throughout the large condo, he had bigger fish to fry in this moment—he was almost afraid to look up at the man in front of him after the little stunt he decided to pull. He slowly lifted his head, fully expecting to see a scowl etched on the man's smooth features—but he was met with the exact opposite—a smirk.
"You a lil' crazy one, aint ya." the man asked uselessly as he was met with nothing but stubborn silence.
"May I ask why you can't just find anotha place?" he inquired.
Crickets.
The man hummed in thought, "Lemme guess, you did steal the car and now you scared to walk them streets out there because of it." He said matter-of-factly.
"Damn boy you ask alotta questions." Bray exclaimed, his annoyed words beginning to boil over out of the incredibly small pot that was his mouth. The man tilted his head slightly before reaching his sizeable hand out—Bray took a second to examine the hand in front of him before slapping it away and getting up himself, "I don't need your fuckin help."
"Well if you don't need my help, you can carry yo lil' ass out my goddamn space."
"No! That's— that's not what I meant, and I'm sure you know that's not what I meant." Bray whispered, glaring at the man through his eyelashes.
There was another pregnant pause before the man decided to open his mouth once more, "Anyone ever tell you, you got fire in ya eyes? The type that not many people would wanna mess with. Fierceness."
Bray closed his eyes and turned his back to the man, not wanting to dive too deep into uncharted territory. This man made a dangerous fire ignite in Bray's tummy—a fire that he did not care to explore any time soon.
"The only way you gettin inta that back room is if you accept my offer." The man's voice rumbled into the air of the condo, causing Bray to shiver ever so slightly.
"What are you, some type of faggot?" Bray asked harshly as he flung his body around to face the man once more.
"Ay, you might wanna chill on that word." The man stepped closer to Bray, causing the shorter male to stumble backwards on instinct. He noticed how the man seemed to get even bigger once angered—which is something that caused Bray to do something he had never done with any man before—cower.
"I'm sorry, alright?" Bray's words stumbled out; landing on deaf ears. As the man got closer, Bray remembered the knife that he always kept near his waistband no matter the occasion. He pulled the blunt weapon out and pointed at the man that sauntered closer and closer.
"Stay away from me!" he yelled out in cowardly fear, unacquainted trembles rushing through his body like volts.
"You come up into my house and call me out my name, only to pull a knife out on me like a little bitch once I threaten to knock ya teeth out. Fuck is wrong wi' you?" the man barked, an accent thats not accustomed in the upper-east side forcing its way through his blunt words.
Bray opened his eyes slightly as one salty tear began to cascade down his face; realization hitting him hard and heavy. Was Bray ready to harm this man over a bad reaction that he caused? He opened his eyes fully and fixated them onto the ground—slowly lowering the deadly weapon that he had such a tight grip on—before dropping it to the floor completely.
"I should really throw you out." The man's voice rang out once more before tightly gripping Bray's already bruised arm.
"No please," Bray screamed as he pushed his heels into the floorboards, "I'll do the nude things just— just please don't kick me out." He looked up at the taller man as fresh, unshed tears sat comfortably in his lower eyelids. "I can't go back to that place, the things they did to me in there..." Bray stopped himself from unlocking the dark memories that he swore to keep pushed down in the depths of conscious.
The man's eyes softened as he watched Bray fall apart one by one. He loosened his grip on Bray's arm and stepped back, tempted to ask him to keep going but quickly deciding against it.
"Follow me." he said as he made his way into the spacious living room behind the wall that separated it from the mud room. Bray followed behind without resistance as guilt ate away at him because of his past actions against the man.
"Strip." Bray looked down at the floor behind the couch as his breathing slowly kicked up—he already felt like the man's eyes were stripping him well enough. Despite this thought that skittered across his head, he complied and brought his shirt up and above his head. Next step was pulling the drawstring of his sweatpants and letting them pool around his feet. Bray had always thought wearing undergarments was a stupid concept, but now he silently scolded himself for having such a silly thought process as he stood there; barer than the day he came out his mama.
He watched the man retreat behind another wall before coming back with a silk women's robe.
"I assume you would rather not pose completely nude just yet. I also assumed that red would look nice against your pale skin tone," he said, "Here, try it on." he finished as he thrusted the robe in Bray's direction. Bray didn't like the thought of wearing such feminine clothing, but something was always better than nothing. He gently took the robe out of the man's hand before slinging it across his shoulders, tying the strings loosely around his waistline.
"Seems that both of my assumptions was right." the man chuckled as Bray continued to have a stare down with the floor. It was a nice floor, a dark walnut color. The floors reminded Bray of Tre's old room that him and his sister used to sneak into back when he thought fondly of the boy. He shook his head and allowed such haunting thoughts to fall out the back of his head.
"Go on and stand in front of those big windows over there while I go get my stuff ready." Bray nodded his head and obediently stepped in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that sat behind the couches in his living room. A breath that he had been consciously holding finally tumbled out of his lips once the man made his exit into another room.
A/N: Heyyy guys. So this chapter is a tad bit shorter, but its also the start of the story actually picking up somewhat, so I hope you like it anyway!
Thoughts on Bray?
Thoughts on Atticus?
What do you think happened to Bray while he was in prison?
Why do you think Bray has disdain towards his parents?
Thanks for reading! Make sure you vote and comment so that I can interact with you lovely people.
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Ace of Spades
Adventure"I'm not deranged, I just don't tolerate bullshit." In which, Bray is an ex-convict that may have gotten himself into trouble once more. Atticus is an artist that has ran into a little bit of turmoil with his work. What happens when the two cross p...
