― 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒚.
❝ and he knows
that a boy who
likes boys is
a dead boy.
unless he keeps
his mouth shut. ❞
or, in which daxton shields's heart is an abandoned house that new friends want to rebuild & mov...
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DEAD BOY (book one). °• CHAPTER SEVEN •°
" FUCK YOU, BOWERS! "
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DAXTON SHIELDS LIVED IN A SMALL, STRANGE WORLD. He was always on his own. What kid his age felt safer being on their own than with a group of people? Well, that's how his world worked. No matter how many foster families he was placed into, he was very aware of the fact that it was him against the world. Having friends wasn't an option. Being a family wasn't an option. If Daxton lets that happen, no matter where he is, it leads him to an ache he can't avoid. One so powerful that it brings him to isolate himself. That was Daxton Shields's world. He learned how to fight his problems on his own. He learned isolation is the only way to survive in the real world. And he learned to leave before he gets left.
Throw in a clown that can shapeshift into that fucked up mix, and hey, you discovered the weird world of Daxton Shields.
Richie is back to the blubbering idiot he is when Beverly joins the boys on a small walk after claiming she can't be in her house for the rest of the day. Daxton doesn't blame her, not after witnessing the blood they cleaned in her bathroom, but he really fucking wished Richie would shut his trap. A walk almost sounded nice, guiding his bike next to him, but that's ruined when the boy with wide glasses rides his in circles around the group. It's what reminds Daxton of the notion that he's better on his own because here, with them, he feels crowded. It's too much. And the sound of Richie's voice is making his blood start to boil.
"No, I love being your personal doorman," Richie announced in a sarcastic drawl. The wind blows his locks back and off his forehead. "Really, could you idiots have taken any longer? Or come up with some better fucking lie than what Daxton said?"
Daxton's mouth opens to defend himself but Charlie beats him to it. "Hey, shut up, Richie," he snapped. Daxton considers it was done maybe to protect him or his feelings, but tries not to overthink it. Charlie's always been like that for him.
"Yeah, shut up, Richie," Stan agreed.
It leads to Daxton finally being able to get his say. "I hope you skip and fall on your face," he deadpanned.
A dramatic sigh left Richie's mouth. "Oh okay, trash the Trashmouth, I get it!" He called. "Hey, I wasn't the one scrubbing the bathroom floor imagining that her sink went all Eddie's mom's vagina on Halloween." The repulsive image that comes to Daxton's mind he wishes he could wipe away along with what he cleaned. He swears his hands are still tinted red from where they curl over the rubber steering of his bike.
