We're Burning (Frerard)

7. Kill a Bird and Hide Its Body - Now Explain, What the Fuck?

Wattpad is so fucking dead

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Confusion and alarms blared in his head, and Gerard's head snapped up to look at the Prince, causing himself a head rush. Black dots flickered in front of his eyes, changing to green, yellow and red.

By the time they disappeared, Gerard was falling down to the floor; the only part of him still up being his arm that Bryar was holding. The Prince and the guard shot him worried looks, but no one moved.

Bryar groaned in annoyance. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He let go of Gerard's arm and it fell limp to the floor beside him. "You never said a damn thing about the scum, what the hell are you talking about, Iero?" Bryar hissed.

The Prince's chest rose visibly with the breath he took, and he raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. Boredom was painted across his face, though his lips were set in thin line.

"Treason is sentenced by death, Bryar. So unless you have a death wish, I suggest you don't call me a liar again."

Even in his slightly drunken state, Bryar seemed to understand the meaning of the words and his face went a bit paler. His jaw clenched tightly, and his eyes burned with hate as he glared at the Prince.

"We'll solve this together with my father tomorrow." The Prince announced, and Bryar's hands clenched and unclenched with nerves.

"No – there's no need to involve the king, my Prince."

The Prince hummed. "So now you address me with respect," he sighed. "Honestly, what have become of the men of this country," he mumbled to himself, although Gerard suspected it was meant to be heard.

The Prince waved a dismissive hand. "The King will hear about this nonetheless. As well, I want to make sure you're the only one that forgot that the elf is mine."

Gerard felt his heart squeeze in his chest, he didn't want to be anyone's. He may have been broken, but he didn't want to be shattered into pieces like the plates he had dropped. He feared that he won't make it alive to the end of the year if he was to be a private servant.

Bryar nodded again, and left hurriedly; not without shooting Gerard a dirty look though. Which, if Gerard wasn't so dizzy and weak as he was, he would have liked to imagine that he answered with his middle finger.

It seemed very fitting, he just didn't want to die; or get beat into pulp.

Slowly and cautiously, as if approaching an injured wild animal, the guard with the crazy hair crouched in front of Gerard. He reached a hand out, gently trying to lay it on Gerard.

Gerard recoiled from the touch, his eyes widened in fear and he felt the panic fog his brain once more. He whimpered, he wanted to cry again, they were going to hurt him – they only chased Bryar away so they could have him all for themselves.

Gerard let out a broken sob. They were going to hurt him, they were going to make him do things he didn't want to. He didn't want any more pain. He didn't.

"Fuck, he's panicking, Ray, can you please get him into my room?" The Prince said and Gerard sobbed harder. He didn't want to, he didn't!

The guard, Ray, nodded, his hair bouncing as he did so, and scooted closer to Gerard, who in return backed away until his back hit the wall.

The guard put his right hand around Gerard's shoulders, holding them tightly. Gerard cried and shook at the touch, hyperventilating at that point. He sobbed as the guard put his other hand under his knees, all of the filthy things they could do to him kicking him inside his head. Mocking him.