NUT DA NUTTAH - Boreo (OLD)

Chapter 112~ Bones

((*WARNING, SOME WORDING IN THIS CHAPTER PROVIDES DESCRIPTIVE SENTENCES OF THE FOLLOWING: blood, violence and gore, breaking bones and strong homophobia. The scenes are long.))

I was eating those dang hummus chips without hummus. Watching Boris walk out of our bedroom bed-headed. He shrugged me off and sat down next to me with an attitude. "Bae?" I asked, looking over at him, "What's wrong?"
He just shrugged violently and sighed. "Your dad found me on socials." He angrily said. "Treated me like I kidnapped you or something." He added, rolling his eyes. "Ill handle it. No need to get an attitude." I said, rubbing his back soothingly. He sighed and calmed himself down. "I'm going to go take a shower or something." He said before walking off into the bathroom.
I sighed and opened the texting app. Of course my father was at the bottom of my contacts. I started to call him. He picked up on the last ring. "Theo!" He said happily. "Hi dad." I said angrily. Hearing The silence on the other side. "What's wrong son?" He asked, I didn't hesitate. "Yeah, I know what you said to my husband." I replied. I felt like I was about to snap. "Theo. He's a guy!" He replied. "I didn't raise a gay kid!" He immediately added, I gasped. "You were the one who chose to have kids with my mom!" I yelled at him. "You were born to like girls, and you marry a guy who probably sells drugs for a living!" He yelled on the other side of the phone. I just gagged, what a nine year old.
"I'm going to Florida with my husband. How about we sort it out there!" I replied, giving him the address. he just agreed and hung up. Leaving just me and my thoughts.
Boris walked out in thick pajamas to see what I was yelling about. I feel bad when I have to yell. I know loud noises like those startle him. "Sorry honey. I got it all sorted out, it's fine." I reassured his stressed out face, pulling my body off the couch and giving him a hug. "I'm sorry I yelled, I shouldn't have. It was an at-moment thought." I added. Feeling his moist skin with each touch. Soft... like laying down for the first time in all the hotels satin bedsheets. Or handcrafted quilts. Those always were the best in my opinion.
Boris's Hand was doing well. Nothing bad happened yet, I hope it'll stay that way.
I've never been interested in becoming a doctor, nor was I good with blood and guts. Though I had to make sure Boris didn't fracture or ruin his wrist while we cleaned or replaced the cast. Having to look at his thin vanes in his pale skin. I almost gagged just watching them give a vaccine through the wrist, piercing through the vanes with power. He'd flinch and tear up. The wrist was obviously sensitive and not as bad as doing it on the shoulder. Surgery wasn't great to. I chose to stay in the room. Bad idea. I tried to look away through watching them slit his wrists open to move a bone wasn't pleasant to see. Nor were the dark red blood covered tools. That turned into dried blood. It looked like a murder case. The scar is large and obvious.

God can't we just go back in time?

This is Theo Decker, signing off