The Alpha's Addiction [BxB]

Chapter 04

Cyrus sighed in defeat.

Deciding sleep wasn't coming back to him after his awful dream, the upset boy got up from his wooden bed with old mattress and stale brown pillows. Cyrus moved in the night, feet hitting the cold cement floor as he let his dull sheets fall to the ground, they never really provided much warmth but it was better than having nothing at all.

Lazily making his way across the dim room Cyrus pulled on his long scarf, lopping it around his neck and slips on his tattered jacket from the edge of the chair by his crooked table. Cyrus didn't have difficulty finding his keys in the darkness as his eyesight is used to it, he walked to the only window in there square shaped and just small enough.

It was still dark outside, as his beady irises peeked past the tiniest cracks of his blocked up windowsill. Cyrus saw the back porch lights of the decaying orphanage house were still out. This meant it was still maybe around 3 to 4 in the morning, and he assumed that his shocking scream hadn't woken up anybody, given how far away he was to them. At least that's what the boy wanted, because it would definitely send Denise frantically rushing out to the stoned shed at this ungodly hour.

Everyone's still asleep, that's good.

Cyrus exhaled out, the air making his hot breath visible when he puffed it for himself to see. After minutes of carefully making sure there weren't any wondering kids who disobeyed the curfew rule, Cyrus swiftly grabbed his shoes underneath the bed, putting them on and went to the heavily locked door.

I just need fresh air, then I'll go back.
He told himself glaring at the handle.

With shaky hands, he fumbled the keys Cyrus wore onto himself that Denise had assigned to the boy. He couldn't bring himself to share a room with the other kids in the orphanage and Cyrus insisted this was the best for everybody. It saves the people surrounding Cyrus that he is designed to stay a reasonable distance from the world, because he isn't like the rest of the children here.

Cyrus wasn't normal. This, he knew as much and preferred to be an outcast.

The final click of the last padlock had the boy frown, he didn't like stepping outside but even Cyrus got feed up of being there. Remaining in the same place as the supplies for janitors and the few donated sports materials the orphanage received. The weather isn't too different when he left his homely territory, Cyrus liked to call the worn out shed that, he's positive it survived the great world wars. It might have been a bunker at some point in time.

His shoes made slushy noises going through the backyard of the building, it must've rained badly hence the lot covered in puddles and soil turned to mud as Cyrus came into the makeshift half basketball court. He spotted the dirty ball on the ground and picked it up, starting at the object with empty expressionless eyes; he was thinking.

Did i deserve any of this?

Cyrus bounced the ball and began to run and shoot it to the hoop knowing he won't get to do this during the day, it was always nice to exercise his body to make his gloomy thoughts focus on something else than those memories.

If he over thinks his situation, Cyrus may collapse from his emotional hurt.

And so he exerted himself to the limit, until Cyrus's legs slightly wobbled and his breathing broke up to grunts. Not because he had poor stamina, oh no, it had nothing to do with that. Cyrus ain't the tallest teenager there is yet he stood on average height, closest to being tall. Though to smaller kids he was huge, and his slender shape looked healthy for somebody who doesn't go outside.

Well, that's what the little ones think.

Nobody should have lasted at his age in the system, the ones who do don't have much of a choice than to manage their lives out. Because who the hell in this lifetime wanted a troublemaker for a son? Who would want someone like Cyrus into their homes with open arms?