Nite's Home For Troubled Boys

Chapter 17

AVERY'S POV
This chapter will mainly be in his POV.

How could I have been so stupid to believe that he'd actually want me? He didn't even want me outside of this home and now here he is surrounded by a group of gorgeous males, who all seem to fawn over him and my dumb self really thought I had a chance. I laugh humorlessly at myself.

I close my door softly behind me as I just finished watching Dillion pleasure Malcolm, wishing so desperately it was me instead. I wish it was me sitting between his legs, cuddled up against his chest. I wish it was me he took orgasm after orgasm from. My heart aches fiercely at what happened. My inner submissive sobbing at not being able to please the Dom we've claimed. I know he's not mine, but I've always been his, even if he doesn't want me.

My shoulders shake from the force of my sobs, my brain begining to ache. My throat itching me as I try to reign in my emotions. I haven't cried this hard since the first day I met Dillion and I thought he wanted nothing to do with me since he left me so quickly that day. I curl up into a tight ball, trying to soothe myself, to stop these tears from falling. I have no reason to cry, he isn't mine. The events tonight further proves it.

I slip into unconsciousness, clutching my heart tightly as tears continue to leak down my face.

...

I lay awake for awhile. The sun slightly peeking out through the horizon. Deciding I'll go for a walk, I slip on some comfy clothes and shoes, grabbing my headphones and cellphone, immediately blasting music through the tiny buds on the highest volume. I try to be as quiet as possible as I make my way down the stairs, even though I didn't have to seeing as I'm the only one awake.

I exit out the front door, tears already brimming my eyes when I see that dumb recliner. I push those thoughts away, trying and failing, several times to get lost in the music or in the nature surrounding me. By the time I make it to the end of the driveway, my eyes are blurry with tears. Not even during my parents most brutal beatings did I cry, but seeing Dillion touch another without me has cause me more grief than id ever imagine, but the thing is, the thing that terrifies me the most, is that I still want him. How pathetic is that?

I walk further into the forest, stopping at a nice tree and sitting against it and resting as the sun continues to slowly grace us with it's presence. I shut off my music, shoving the headphones in my pocket as I listen to the sound of the forest waking up. The birds chirping excitedly to each other. Small critters scurrying against the forest floor. Trees rustling every now and then. The sight is beautiful and it completely takes my breath away.

After being out for another two hours, I begin the walk back to the home. Pleading with myself to not cry, if and when I see Dillion, Malcolm, or that damn recliner. I plan to spend the rest of my days locked up in my room, crying myself to sleep. What else is there to do? When I reach the front, I hear shouting and I brace myself before trudging into the house. Slipping off my shoes and carrying them with me further into the house. I avoid all the boys and make my way solemnly up to my room, unnoticed.

I take a long hot shower, scrubbing away the invisible filth harshly. My skin turning red and paining me by the time I feel myself clean. I get out, drying off quickly, and throwing on my clothes. I exit the steaming bathroom, and I climb into my bed, burying myself as much as I can under the covers. The tears falling silently as I stare up at the blank ceiling. A knock rings out on my door, but I ignore it, the promise of Unconsciousness dragging me under.