Crossroads

Fallacy

"Don't. Say. A word."

I was too shocked to move. To speak. To react in any way.

My heart was racing. I felt paralyzed. The fear was overwhelming.

Here I am, on the floor with a knife to my throat, with the boy I felt sorry for, who was now my potential killer staring me dead in the eye. Neither of us spoke after his command. Neither of us did anything at all.

It would have been completely silent, if if weren't for my short, shaky breaths, and his heavy breathing.

After what seemed like forever, he released the grip he had on my arms that were pinned over my head, and he took the knife away, probably leaving a jagged imprint where it once was. He narrowed his eyes at me as he shifted, then stood up. I watched him as he felt around for his jacket pocket, and slid the knife back into it. I couldn't do anything more than stay in my sprawled out position on the floor, with my mouth partially open.

He glanced down at me.

"Get up."

I got up, trembling.

"W-what are you doing here?" I stuttered. He glared at me again.

"Nothing." He said harshly.

"Well..." I stopped myself for a moment, wincing. "You were on my porch, I just thought-"

He cut me off. "If you're thinking that I came here for shelter or help, you're dead wrong." He barked back.

"But..."

"I didn't. Come here. For help, or shelter."

"Okay," I said quietly, and noticed blood dripping down from his torso and onto the floor.

"Can I at least help you with that?" I asked him.

"With what?"

I pointed to his torso and then down to the floor, his eyes following my finger.

"Oh, it's not a problem, why would you think that?"

"Usually when someone is bleeding, it's a problem."

How the hell was he raised?

"Not to me," he replied. "And I don't care if it's a problem to you."

Damn. Okay.

"Well, at least let me help you..." I trailed off. "Please?"

He rolled his eyes, his chest rising and falling with a deep sigh. I didn't want to make him mad, but I suppose it's the least I can do, even though he threatened me.

"Follow me," I said quietly, making my way towards the bathroom while he followed.

Once we were in there, I closed the door and started to look through the medicine cabinet for the first aid kit. He sat down on the long bathroom counter and I could feel him staring at me, waiting.

Once I got the first aid kit, I turned around to face him. Only then did I realize what kind of request I had to ask of him.

"Um, I- can you take off your shirt? Or...at least hold it up...?" My voice was shaky. He gave me a weird look and then sighed.

"Okay," he said, removing his shirt quickly. I stared at his now bare torso. It was covered in scars and fresh cuts, and one stab wound.

Aside from that, I, in all honesty, kind of liked it. He was a mess but attractive nonetheless.

"Are you just going to stare?" He interrupted my thoughts, and I silently scolded myself for staring and letting myself think that. I started working on cleaning the wound, and attempted small talk.

"So, what's your name?" I mumbled.

"Ryland."

I nodded. "I'm Lawrence,"

"One of the three Abendroth brats, yeah, I know."

I was taken aback.

"B-brats?"

"Yes, brats. You're fucking spoiled, you have been all of your lives. Your father has a big company. Y-"

I cut him off. "How do you know about the company?"

"Does it really matter? Like I just said, it's a big company. Very popular, I see, and I hear about it a lot. But face it, Lawrence, you're a brat that always get what he wants."

"I'm not a brat, Ryland, I'm just fortunate, I guess..." I trailed off. It hurt to know that he doesn't even know me very well but he already thinks of me as a brat.

"Whatever." He scoffed. After that, we stopped talking and he just watched what I was doing.

Once I finished, I told him that he could put his shirt back on. We quietly snuck out of the bathroom, trying to make as little noise as possible, and made our way up to my room. He stood in the middle of the room and looked around.

"Sorry, I guess it seems like a bit too much," I don't know why I was apologizing, I just was. He ignored me, though, and walked over to the dresser, picking up random items that were scattered across the top of it, and examined them. I watched him.

He grumbled something, but I didn't hear.

"What?"

"Nothing." He quickly said.

"Okay..."

He put the item down and turned to me.

"Why are you still allowing me to be here?" He asked.

I was confused.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Wouldn't you rather want me to leave? I don't think rich people would like to be seen socializing with someone like me."

"Ryland, I don't know what you're talking about, I-"

"Or are you just letting me stay here for a certain period of time until you think you have my trust and then you just kick me out? Is that what you want to do?" He was glaring at me again.

"N-no! Not at all, I just, I am just trying to be nice," I replied, stammering.

"That's what the last bastard said."

"Ryland, please stop making such assumptions. I'm not going to kick you out or anything. I'm just trying to be courteous."

He scoffed. "That's new. But no, brat, I can't stay." He headed straight for the window.

"Why?"

Honestly, I didn't want him to leave. He's been rude this whole time but I can't help but have a bit of sympathy for him.

"That's none of your business," he pushed open the window, preparing to jump out. Quickly, I rushed over and grabbed him by the wrist.

"No! Ryland, don't go." I said weakly.

"You don't want me to stay."

"I do!"

"No, you don't." He replied, trying to get out of my grip.

"Well why not?"

"Once again, that's none of your damn business, Lawrence!" He was raising his voice now. "You don't need to know, I just need to leave." He turned back around.

"Come on, Ryland."

I didn't think that I cared very much, but now I'm finding myself begging this guy to stay here.

He scowled at me for a moment. A long moment.

"Fine. But you'll regret this, brat."

________

I apologize for the late update and the quality of the chapter. I have everything planned out, but I'm just having a bit of trouble actually turning the ideas into chapters. It will get better as it goes on.

Ryland is a bit rude, hmm? I still love him though.

Anyways, the next chapter might take a while for me to get up.

Till then~