Look away (BxB) [COMPLETE]

Thirty-three: Stockholm Syndrome

It was dark outside. The rain poured down and the storm was raging. Louis forced his eyes open. His throat was burning, his body ached, throbbed and stung with pain. Swallowing sent blasts of agony through his throat. Even breathing hurt. His air pipe felt torn and roughed up.

The pressure clinging to his throat, the numbing, stinging of invisible needles in his fingertips, the bile in the back of his mouth, the excruciating pain in his head and chest. Fire, stars and cold. Pain and panic. He relived it all in his head as he slowly tried to understand where he was and what had happened. An inevitable, freezing fear lingered in his chest, his limbs felt cold. Restrained. He was restrained.

"B..." his breath hitched and was sucked back in through his sore throat. He sounded like a zombie trying to breathe.

"LOUIS!" Bran exclaimed and threw himself over the small boy.

Louis felt his heart stopping for a second as he looked up at Bran. The position felt threatening and his heartbeat was accelerating faster than a bullet train. He couldn't move, all of his body felt frozen. Breathing hurt his aching throat.

"How are you feeling?"

Two pairs of eyes stared into each other. Two light green ones, one deep brown and one pale blue with a popped blood vessel. The white part of Louis' left eye was stained red and he kept frantically blinking.

"I'm fine..." He choked out in a raspy, weak voice.

"You sounds like a crow..." Bran chuckled. His hand gently brushed up against Louis' neck, stroking the fingerprints he left over the skin. Louis flinched and drew a panicked breath, causing Brannon to pull his hand back. "What? You said you were fine...."

"I want to go home..." Louis whimpered.

"Well, I want you to stay..." Bran said lowly. "You're coming to the game on Friday, right? I want you to wear my jersey."

"I think I work on Friday..."

"Well, would you rather work than see me play?"

Yes. Yes, he would. But saying that out loud was dangerous considering that Bran was on top of Louis, staring down.

"Of... course, I'll come..." He stuttered.

"Great! My parents want to have you over for dinner too! So how about we squeeze that in on Thursday?"

"Okay..."

...
Louis sat hunched over the toilet heaving. He'd been in the bathroom for twenty minutes, draped over the toilet. His abdomen hurt and so did his rectum. Walking as well as moving was painful and talking, breathing and swallowing triggered nausea and a burning sensation in his throat. He felt dizzy, tired.

"You done?" Bran asked and pulled Louis' body off the floor. Right as he got him up another wave of nausea hit him and Louis threw himself over the toilet as the vomit spewed out. He coughed violently and heaved. "Gosh, it's like you're pregnant..." Bran groaned. "That's so annoying... please stop..." 

"I'm... I'm sorry!" Louis cried into the toilet bowl, coughing and spitting.

"You're overreacting..." Bran grabbed Louis' hair and yanked his head back. "You look fucking gross..."

"I'm sorry..."

"You messed up my sheets, you know? They were ruined so I had to throw them away..." Louis whimpered as Bran tugged roughly at his hair. "Useless... I can't believe I almost got worried about you..."

Bran calmly walked out of the bathroom with his hands thrown into his pockets, leaving Louis in a crying mess on the floor.

...
Oscar leaned impatiently by the school entrance while his cousin ripped straws of dead grass out of the dirt. Louis nor Bran hadn't come to school for the past three days and it was now Thursday. Bran had only showed up to football practise but Oscar hadn't had the opportunity to approach him at all.