A Hater's Gamble (BxB)

THIRTY

                  "Am I the king of nothing at all?"

L I A M

I led him as far away from the sounds of scuffle. There was not one safe place on this campus as long as the Eagles were still here, but the small gym-classroom would have to suffice. The lights were dim and full of dust, hardly anyone used this room anymore.

I released Medley's wrist and met his charcoal eyes, they were a stark contrast to his dull-pale skin. There seemed to be no evident forms of injury on him, but I knew that if I hadn't arrived in time, George might've hurt him beyond repair. Medley never had been a great fighter, at least not with his hands. But with his words, his mouth—

"Why the fuck were you outside with them? What the hell is wrong with you?," I growled.

Miles rubbed his arms and ducked his head slightly.

"Answer me," I spoke, more forcefully than I should've.

The boy in front of me flinched—and I wanted to rip apart the Earth. Turn back time and start all over again.

I fought all the particles in my body to hold him close, make him warm. If I did, I'd be falling over the edge. To the point of no return.

Instead, I said much softer, "Look at me."

And this time, he did. There was slight fear in his eyes, along with anger. At me.

"Why'd you start that fight with him?," he asked, quietly, like he was much too tired to raise his voice.

I inched closer to Miles, testing his barrier, and he made no move to create further distance between us.

I arched a brow and said, "Because he pissed me off."

My chest felt the slightest bit lighter when Miles tried to fight the smile on his face. Then he rolled his eyes, "I'm being serious."

"You haven't answered any of my questions, so why should I answer yours?," I shot back.

It was silent after that, much too silent as I fought hard not to pin him to the wall and drown him in kisses. After a few seconds, Miles bit his bottom lip and drew his brows together, shaking his head.

"You're an asshole, Liam," he said, without any hesitation.

I wouldn't fight him on it, so I let him continue.

"You...," he started, breaking off. "You make me feel horrible, and then you defend me. It's almost like no one else is allowed to hurt me but you. I hate it."

He was now leaning on one of the creaky desks, arms crossed. His black hair unruly while his eyes were tired. The picture of frustration.

"I make you feel horrible?," was all I could ask as I moved to be near him.

He scoffed and put his head in his hands. "Yes," he said. I gently pried his hands away, forcing him to look at me.

"You need sleep, Medley," I said, sternly. "We can have this conversation when you're not cranky."

"I'm always cranky," he mumbled.

Not a lie.

"I have to ask you something," he announced when I didn't reply. He met my gaze full on.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Don't."

"Please?," he pleaded, rubbing his eyes.

It was something about that word on his lips, how vulnerable it was. I couldn't deny him anything.