Steam Punk Goggles and Ink Stained Hands

BARRONE’S POV

~

I could hear footsteps hitting the pavement behind me at a rapid pace. Desperate to stay ahead of the blonde haired pursuer, I pushed myself into a sprint even though I just wanted to drop to the ground in exhaustion.

“Barrone! Wait up!” I heard Drew call out after me – his words disjointed and his breathing uneven as he gasped for air.

I ignored his plea and continued on; my eyes looking around the street for a place I could hide in. Nothing immediately jumped out at me and since Drew was so close behind me he would just follow me. So instead, I focused on trying to lose him in the crowds and ducked into a large group of people gathered on the corner of a road chatting casually together. Usually, it annoyed me when people did that, they were just blocking up the walkway. Today I was thankful for it though as trying to navigate through crowds of Londoners on a Friday afternoon was no easy feat. After I finished darting through the crowds of people by the main roads and got down to the quieter ones, I looked over my shoulder and was pleased to see Drew nowhere in sight.

Satisfied that I had managed to lose him for at least a little while longer, I made my way into the Boots store about a hundred metres down the road to make some quick purchases before Drew caught up to me again. He seemed rather persistent so I didn’t think he’d give up yet; not without an explanation.
I needed to sort myself out quick though; if Drew caught up and looked too closely he’d start to notice things which I’d rather have remain a secret. It was my fault though, she caught me drawing him.

I’d wanted to do an ink sketch of Drew; he’s so beautiful I wanted to be able to see his face all the time. I got a bit too into it though and didn’t notice the sound of a car pulling up or the front door slamming. I didn’t notice her enter the room until the scent of whiskey breath assaulted my sense of smell and brought me abruptly back into the real world. She didn’t like what I was doing. She didn’t like my “faggot obsession” with him.

I watched as my sketchbook was chucked across the room and saw the pages bend and crease as the hit the wall opposite at speed.

I watched as her fist swung forward and connected painfully with my cheek, undoubtably leaving a bruise.

I watched as she stalked out the room grumbling quietly about how much of a disappointment I was.
Believe me, I know how much of a fuck up I am, I don’t need re-telling.

The memories of what had happened earlier that day re-entered my head, causing me to shudder gently to myself. Conscious of the black and blue marks along my jaw line I sought out the foundation and bought a tub in my usual shade. Yeah, I have a usual shade. You’d be surprised how much I have to buy this…

*****

DREW’S POV

~

Damn, Barrone may not look it but that boy is an agile little bugger when he wants to be. After I pushed dignifiedly made my way through what seemed like a small army of Suffolk’s residents, I emerged on the other side of the crowd in time to see Barrone emerging from a Boots store up ahead clutching a small, blue bag in his hand. I decided to be a bit more discreet in my following and trailed behind him rather than trying to approach him. That tactic didn’t work all that well last time.
He disappeared into a public bathroom just a short distance away from the store, taking something out of the bag as he did. I stepped inside the dingy restroom ready to confront him but stopped in surprise when I took in the scene in front of me.

Barrone was standing in front of the chipped mirror, staring at his reflection sadly while rubbing mouse foundation over a darkening bruise on his cheek, occasionally wincing as he applied too much pressure over the more sensitive areas. Before I could stop myself I ran over to him and opened my mouth to speak. Surprisingly though, I found no words. I just stared at him concerned, hoping that he would understand that I wanted him to explain.

Who could hurt someone so sweet and innocent?! Who could hurt Barrone?!

For the second time today I found myself standing in a bathroom with a sad friend at a slight loss of what to do. I looked up into coffee coloured eyes. It almost broke me when I saw them filled with unshed tears – like an ocean behind glass. An ocean that held secrets. An ocean he was drowning in.