Breach

For once in my life school seemed like the best place to be right now. After waking up to find the kitchen a complete mess I realize that father must have once again stayed home from work. This made me wonder if he had perhaps asked for some of his sick days that he has been accumulating. The idea of him being home all day long makes my insides curl, especially knowing what he’ll be doing that entire time.

I bite my lip. I don’t want to be here while he’s drinking. Who knows what he’ll do but…I had just stayed with Antony for two days in a row. I doubt he’d want me back over so soon. Mick may let me but if I told him what was going on he’d probably want to talk about it…

And it’s a bit of a bad thing to say but I don’t feel like telling Mick anything. He won’t understand. Antony is the only one who seems to understand. He knows what to say. He knows what to do because he’s going through a tough time as well.

Sighing, I head off for school. For the first four periods of the day I ponder over what I should do. I flip over both ideas of crashing at Mick’s or Antony’s house, but every time I feel that I’ve decided on one I somehow manage to change my mind.

Screw it. I’ll stay home. If I just keep myself locked up in my room I’m sure I’ll be fine. As long as I don’t bother father and his liquor, everything should be ok. Should being the key word.

Of course, since I had no desire to go home, the day had to go by quick, so quick that it only felt like an hour before I was once again in the apartment. As expected, father is sitting on the couch, the remote in one hand and a drink in the other.

I desperately try to close the door quickly. Somehow I manage, with the TV blaring he was unable to hear the clicking of the door. Taking off my shoes, I tip toe through the living room and am about to enter the hall when I feel a hand grasping my shoulder.

I yelp when my back meets the wall. I know who the culprit of my impact was. Opening my once squinted eyes, I see my dad looking down at me with a scowl. His hair’s a mess, eyes bloodshot and a bit of liquor running down the side of his mouth. He looks rabid, to put it simply.

“H-Hey,” I stutter and try to scurry from his grasp. He doesn’t release his hold on me, which only makes me worry for my life. “C-Can you let go? That hurts.”

“You were being a dumb little shit last night,” he slurs. By the sounds of it he’s been drinking for a while. Not just the sound but the smell. The stench of alcohol hits my nostrils, making my stomach jump into my throat. I place a hand over my mouth to keep anything from coming out.

“I‘m sorry, just let go,” I mumble through my palm. Sadly he doesn’t listen and decides that pulling me from the wall then slamming me back into it would be a better option. Once again I wince at the pain that shoots up my spine.

“Let go!” I scream, not wanting him to end up doing something else. I grasp his arm and yank it from my shoulder. The sudden action makes him stumble over, knocking a few of his empty beer cans across the floor.

I jump over the mess, barely managing to escape out the front door before he catches me. Behind me I hear him screaming for me but I make it to the elevator. Luckily for me he stumbles and the metal doors shut before he can get in.

I pull out my phone and send Antony a text. I don’t want to bother him but I am definitely not staying at the apartment tonight. Thankfully, Antony gives me permission to stay over. He obviously isn’t there when I arrive but I only have about an hour before he gets here so I decide to make some dinner.

Not just to be helpful but to get my mind off what happened. It wasn’t much but it was enough to startle me. Dad has never been the nicest of people when drunk but he usually preferred mental abuse over physical. I didn’t think he’d actually shove me against a wall.

I wonder if Antony would mind me crashing here until that idiot gets any better. I want to ask but I feel like I’m being a nuisance. He can’t like having me at his house all the time. It’s like he’s baby-sitting me or something.

Cooking manages to keep my mind from worrying. I get so lost in trying to make a nice meal that when Antony returns I don’t even notice until I feel his hand brushing against my arm. The touch sends a jolt through me and I jump back without meaning to.

Antony makes a surprised grunt sound before the both of us stumble to the floor, me landing in his lap. Behind me, I hear him groan and beneath me I feel him squirm. Suddenly, my cheeks feel really hot.

“S-Sorry!” I shout, looking behind me. Antony has a single eye shut, the other is peering at me curiously. He had hit his head against the island and is now rubbing it while trying to move his legs out from under me. “I didn’t hear you c-come in and-sorry!”

Antony nods, “Yeah, you were pretty focused on cooking. It was kind of weird but…could you get off me?”

I once again feel Antony squirm, which only makes the blush on my face darken. I’m in his lap, holy shit I’m in his lap! What the hell gravity? You couldn’t have had me land on the floor like a normal person. No, you have to make me, a boy, fall into another man’s lap! Of course, you are just torturing me today world, aren’t you?

Don’t worry I’ll get my revenge.

I quickly jump away from Antony, though it suddenly feels really cold without him. Antony rises while still rubbing his head. He peaks over my shoulder to the food I’m preparing, a special spaghetti recipe that I made myself, and smiles at the aroma that hits his nose. Breathing in, he says, “Smells good.”

I smile. “It tastes good too.”

Antony nods. He looks to me and the smirk he once had disappears. His expression turns concerned. I tilt my head curiously and ask, “What is it?”

“Something’s wrong,” he says and places a hand on my shoulder. The warm touch makes my knees shake. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” My voice is shaking. I don’t mean it to.

Antony scowls. His eyes scan me over. They must have found what they were looking for because he reaches for my shirt and pulls it over my shoulder. I’m about to ask him what he’s doing but that’s when I see it. A black and blue hand print resting on my shoulder. Even with my shirt it can be seen slightly.

Antony glares at the mark. Looking at his eyes I see the wheels turning inside his head, willing it to leave. When it doesn’t, he huffs and faces me. “Who did that?”

To say he looked pissed would be a bit of an understatement. He looks down right furious. As bad as it sounds, I kind of like him showing this concern.

“I…can I stay here…for a few days?”