The Boy With Silence for Words |Bam x Khun|

Chapter 7

Khun's Pov

   See I had given up and went to a convenience store grabbed a sandwich. I was going to make father dinner, but the thing is, he would either be fucking another random chick by then or criticise the first in every possible way. I had giving up on trying to earn brownie points. My beating was going to suck either way..

   I hauled myself upstairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. He didn't really didn't need to know I was home. I turned the handle of my bedroom door, silently entering my room. A breath had escaped my mouth that I hadn't known I was holding as my shoulders loosening. Jesus.. Is it to much to ask to feel safe in my own home?

Guess so.

   I threw my bags onto my bed, stripping of my shirt. Bruises and cuts still litter my arm and torso.. probably weren't going to disappear anytime soon.

   A sigh of relief escaped my mouth once again as I slipped out of my shoes. My feet felt better than being cramped into my shoes.. I peered down to see my socks were sorta white, crimson blood slowly seeping into the once white fabric. So fucking stupid.. I already have to change my gauzes.

   I threw my socks and shirt into my dirty hamper, sauntering over towards my closet. I grabbed a black tank top, nothing special, throwing it over my head. I then slipped out of my jeans, throwing on a pair of gray joggers.

   I felt better, sore but comfy. I didn't have to hide anything, I was in my own safe space. No judgement here. Just me, myself and I. I flopped down onto my mattress, snatching my bags.

   I slipped out my laptop and sandwich eventually clicking on mine and Bam's Google doc for World History. It's about the only piece of homework I got, plus it's a great way to pass time. I nibbled on my sandwich as I pulled up the doc. I was about to open another tab when I noticed Bam was already online. Huh..

   I could call him.. I have his number. It would probably be easier to communicate if I call him.. ..But he may not want to. He could easily be better off without me. Eh.. I'm just going to do some research. If he wants something he can just ask in the comments..

   I pulled up tab after tab, collecting piece of information after the other, trying to drown myself in information about the Hundreds Year War.

   It was certainly interesting; A long conflict that pitted the kings and kingdoms of France and England against each other from 1337 to 1453. Two factors lay at the origin of the conflict: first, the status of the duchy of Guyenne (in short it's historical region of southwestern France.)

   Though it belonged to the kings of England, it remained a fief of the French crown, and the kings of England wanted independent possession.

   And the second reason being as the closest relatives of the last direct Capetian king (Charles IV, who had died in 1328), the kings of England from 1337 claimed the crown of France. The French and English had always had rough history, this being one of the major events between the two countries. Their ongoing war.

   I hope the project goes well, and we have enough information in the end.. It's a interesting topic and would suck if the project ends up in shambles. I ran a hand through my now disheveled hair. It was kind of in the way, making it slightly hard to see the full screen.. I should probably throw my hair up. My eyes wandered around my room in search for a hair tie, a bandana. Something.

   I slipped my laptop of my lap, meandering around my room. Where would I have put it? I rummaged through my dresser, nothing. I then went over to my night stand and in the drawer sat a black hair tie sitting on top. I snatched the hair tie, throwing it up in a mini ponytail. Better.

   I flopped back down onto my mattress picking my research back up. And just as I was about to get back to my resources, I noticed a comment sitting on the side. Posted a minute ago.

The Twenty-Fifth Bam: Mr. Khun?

   What's up with the formalities? I couldn't help but chuckle at his politeness. I think he's a little to nice for this world. It was just a tad bit concerning. It was creepy how nice he was. First the bathroom thing and now this? How long am I going to last with this boy?

Khun Aguero Agnes: Khun is fine. What do you need?

   In just seconds he typed back.

The Twenty-Fifth Bam: I was wondering if you still had my number?

   Aww, please don't tell me were this is going..

Khun Aguero Agnes: Yes I do.

The Twenty-Fifth Bam: Ok! I just wanted to make sure you remembered in case you ever wanted to use it for the project.

   .. I feel like he wants me to call him. Maybe he thought I was having trouble? I don't know.. It would probably go smoother if we actually talked. Should I ask? Eh..

Khun Aguero Agnes: Did you want to call?

The Twenty-Fifth Bam: Eh? I just wanted to make sure you still had it. We can call if you want. I don't want to make you. Some people aren't comfortable over the phone..

   I could help but glare at the screen before picking up my phone and tearing through my bag. I snatched up the note, swiftly typing in his number before calling him.

   The phone rung once before being picked up. "Hello?"

"Why are you being suspiciously nice?"

|Sorry for taking a bit to update, I had trouble finding motivation for writing. I've been cleaning a lot around my house so I kind of got easily distracted. I hope you enjoyed!|