The Treehouse [BxB]

fifteen

River stayed another night, and the next morning, as he slept curled up in the fluffy duvet, Mickey crept out of the house and headed straight to the petrol station.

And there he was, with those distant grey eyes, and combed back caramel hair, a look of boredom ghosting his features. There was nothing about Casey's appearance that would suggest a monster lurked beneath, waiting to hunt its prey and leave it for dead. No, he looked completely normal, completely unbothered, as if he hadn't just taken something from River which he would never get back.

He glanced up from his phone when Mickey entered, his face softening into a smile, "Oh, hey, Mickey, how's it going?" His casual tone made Mickey's blood boil.

He walked up to the counter, raised his fist, and punched Casey square in the jaw, "You're fucking disgusting." He seethed.

Casey staggered back, his expression twisting in agony as he clutched his face, "What the fuck?" He exclaimed.

Mickey stretched his fingers out and examined his hand; his knuckles were already beginning to bruise. He looked up again, "You're a monster."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Casey shot back defensively, backed up against the rows of cigarette packets, still cradling his injured jaw.

"You raped him."

Casey stared back at him incredulously, and then, he started to laugh, "What?"

Mickey was certain that he had never been this angry before. He was blinded by red hot fury, pressing against his skull, blurring his vision, and coursing through his veins. There was a wild animal inside him, itching to escape, and rip the boy in front of him to shreds. And that's what he did. He hoisted himself up and jumped over the counter, then grabbed Casey's face and slammed it into the shelf, sending loose lighters and packets of cigarettes flying, "You're a sick fuck, you know that?" He hissed in his ear, his fingernails digging into the back of Casey's neck as the other boy squirmed beneath his grip, "You're gonna pay for what you did to River."

Casey managed to twist around and shove Mickey into the counter, panting heavily as he tried to regain his composure, "River told you I raped him?" He laughed again; it was cold and deadly, "He's a fucking drama queen, he was practically begging-"

Mickey shoved Casey to the ground and crawled on top of him, punching him again, and again, and again, until the boy beneath him looked like a bloody mangled mess. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Mickey swung at him blindly, over and over, until his eyes were wet, and his cheeks were red, and his knuckles were split and bleeding. He couldn't even see his punching bag because his eyes were fogged up with tears, and for a moment, he felt like the universe had put him here for this very reason; to make Casey Dawson regret ever coming back to Axminster.

When he finally came to his senses, he jumped off of Casey and collapsed back against the wall, rubbing his face with his hands, refusing to look at the mess he had left behind. He had never behaved like that before; it was terrifying, realising what he was truly capable of.

"So, it's true?" Casey groaned from the floor, tilting his face to the side, swollen and purple, blood tangled into his hair, "You're in love with him."

Mickey furrowed his brows, then looked down at his trembling hands, "Fuck you." He spat, stumbling to his feet, and marching towards the door, grabbing a packet of bandaids on his way out, and tucking them into his pocket, "Delete the security footage unless you want everyone to find out that you're a rapist." He ordered, gesturing to the camera nailed to the wall, "Oh, and I expect you to return River's glasses. You can send them in the post; I know you have my address - you came to my party in year ten." And then he left, stuffing his bloody hands into his pockets and stepping out into the warm August air.