Shiver [Jack/Dan]

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Black and blue are colors that are as familiar to me as the Earth is to God. They showed up so many times on the crevasses of my skin I know their patterns. Sometimes black and blue merge, other times black is a lone wolf and blue is the same. You can tell which is new by the darkness. The blacker it is the fresher. It may have been planted on my skin an hour prior. Even less. The lighter it is the older. If blue is painted on my skin gently, I may have been harmed in that spot months before. All in all, I was still beaten. The colors black and blue no matter the shade dressed me like clothes. They still do. Even though the marks are gone I can feel them under my skin. It's like they're ink. They bled through the pale complexion I possess.

I've tried to move on, honestly. But when I try to sleep the nightmares come alive. I'm weak and I'm vulnerable and I can still feel him. I can feel his hands I can taste the blood and I just want to die. No matter how many showers I take he will never come off my skin. No matter how many drinks I have his memory will never be erased.

I was in downtown London. The weather was bitter, snow was piling up and I could barely see in front of me. People were all around, living their lives as they should. I entered a bar. It was smoggy, cigarette smell clogged up my lungs. I was practically a regular here. The bartender noticed me and gave me a nod. I took a drink, letting the liquid numb the irreversible despondency inside of me. Save me save me save me, my mind screamed. Take away the pain for God's sake. This man couldn't do that. He only has the ability to supply me with the alcohol that stops the pain momentarily. Not permanently. The door swung open and a person came in. It was a fresh face. He took the stool beside me, looked at me once then drank his drink.

"Nasty out there isn't it?" He asked casually. I nodded. He stuck his hand out to introduce himself. Due to my cynicism with people, I denied his hand.

"What's your name? Mine's Dan."

"Jack." I mumbled. He gave a warm smile and our eyes connected. I looked away quickly. My heart raced. I was so scared.

"Like the Titanic? 'Jack, I'll never let go!' I like it." I blushed. Maybe he wasn't dangerous. But I was still cautious. I thought Marcus was sweet and look what happened. I'm broken because of my naïvety.

"You don't talk much do you?" I shook my head.

"Well, I'm determined to change that."

I looked at him and he was still smiling, my eyes bulged out of the sockets. I prayed to God he wouldn't hurt me.

"And how are you going to do that?" My voice quivered. He smirked and took my hand, dragging me out the bar.

I couldn't breathe. Trepidation ran through me. I didn't know where we were going. It was dark out but lights lit up the city.

"C'mon slow poke!" The setting was familiar now and I knew we were in a park. Marcus always loved taking me to this park. Mostly because it was open space and he could hit me if I was out of line and wouldn't get caught. We rarely ever went out but when we did, we came here. It was a lovely place that held nasty memories. Dan sat down on the grass and I followed.

"Why are we here?" I asked him. He smiled.

"I'm gonna get you to talk, silly. Now, I'm gonna start simple. Why are your eyes so pretty?" That was his definition of simple? Flirtation?

"No they're not stop lying to me." He shook his head.

"I'm not lying. Your eyes are beautiful. Green like emeralds." His hand caressed my face and I shivered. My body tensed and I'm pretty sure he noticed because he took his hand away quickly.