”No snitching if you get caught, for starters,” she laughed, relatively confident her new playmate shared the sentiment on that already. “That, and check your feelings at the door. I like fun, not complication and expectation. Deal?”
“Only little bitches squeal,” he replied with a smirk, having no intentions of dragging anyone down with him if he he did get busted. “Not the feelings sort so no issues there.”
“That’s kinda the point,” Zayde answered without missing a beat, staring at the floor like he was looking into the abyss.
“Zayde. Not that it matters.”
Zayde couldn’t say that he was actively suicidal, but he could agree with the point that he didn’t care if his behaviour happened to inadvertently or directly result in his death, one way or another, seeing the alternative as something far worse the longer it went on.
“What kind of fucked up bullshit answer is that?”
Truthfully, it was a response that terrified him down to his core because he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what was going through his sister’s head as well. He had already lost both of his parents, she was all he had left, and the idea of losing her was enough to make him physically ache.
“Fine, whatever,” Zayde murmured with a defeated sigh and a roll of his eyes.
If it kept Devin off his back, he’d agree, but there was no way in hell he’d be the one accepting responsibility if Lissa got mad about it, nor would he accept fault if she went elsewhere.
“It’s not like I really like sharing them anyway.”
“Yeah, well, the route you’re heading is going to get you killed.”
He was using the same, almost parental tone he often took with his sister anymore, but he doubted the kid would listen anyway.
“I’m Devin, by the way.”
“‘Cause it usually means someone wants something in return?”
Most people treated him with the exact same disdain Devin had earlier, so when they started being nice to him, it made him immediately suspicious, especially when his own father would use that same tactic on him as a means of gaslighting, telling Zayde that the horrible things he did were for his own good, to save his soul and steer him away from the temptation of sin.
“The only think I want from you is for you to stop giving drugs to my damn sister.”
It was all he really cared about at the end of the day; Lissa and her well being. So to have any sort of chance to get at least one provider away from her was one he was going to take if he could work an angle for it.
Zayde was hesitant to accept the offered hand, a look of confusion crossing beneath the upset at the the others change in attitude toward him, Zayde’s brain still too soaked in chemicals to cope with the rapid cycling through moods he’d been subjected to since he woke up.
“Why are you being nice to me?” he asked warily, almost reluctant to trust his own impaired judgement in trusting the other after the earlier hostility.
“I don’t need pity.”
“No shit, you got plenty of self pity going to last a lifetime.”
It wasn’t about pity, not really. The other was clearly from an abusive situation and he had, after all, basically rescued him the previous night. It made him feel some level of responsible for him.
“Does it matter why though?”
The way the boys face crumpled at the mention of his father was all the confirmation needed for the time being that that assumption was correct, though there was no way Devin could possibly guess just how bad things were or would be if he went home.
“You have no idea,” he mumbled tearfully, sounding so hopeless and defeated. “Nobody does.”
It was enough to make him feel a little guilty for being a dick, but that didn’t really change anything at this point.
“Come on, get up. You need to rest,” he muttered, offering a hand as he stood. If nothing else, he could let the kid crash for a few hours in safety.
Zayde didn’t respond or move other than closing his eyes to hold back the urge to cry and avoid looking at the other. He was completely fried and it was more than obvious, but he didn’t exactly feel at all welcome enough to ask if he could crash there for a few more hours without Lissa being there.
“Look, I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess it’s your dad that’s you all fucked up, so you can crash here until you sober up at least.” If he was right, he had a feeling the other going home still sort of fucked up wouldn’t go over very well.
Zayde was barely holding it together. He was tired and sick and his emotions were all over the place even before having his buttons pushed.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he repeated, the sound more a pathetic whimper this time as he slid down the wall and sat down, knees pulled up to his chest, making him look even younger than he already did.
He finally moved forward again and knelt in front of the other. The kid was right, Devin don’t know anything about him, not even his name, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.
“You should sleep more.”
“Shut up!”
Zayde didn’t like that he was getting inside his head so easily. Maybe it was just a lucky guess, but it was enough to have Zayde feeling like he wanted to run or to get high again and block it all back out. He didn’t even realise he was still backing away until his back hit the wall, but by that point, he was unravelling fast, his distress peaking hard.
“You know nothing about me!” he all but screamed, bordering on tears, confirming the other’s assessment of him.
He hadn’t taken any further steps closer to Zayde, so he didn’t really understand why he had kept backing up. But he wasn’t going to press that issue, not when there were far too many other buttons to push.
“Jesus you’re a mess.”
Fear suddenly set in, the conversation turning suddenly sexual out of nowhere and Lissa’s brother’s earlier aggressiveness sending Zayde into a panic, partly from the drugs still in his system, but mostly because he had no idea how to respond other than to stand suddenly and back away.
Not that he was implying that he thought the other was about act on his words, but Zayde was in no mental state to take that chance, even though that small part of his brain that had let itself wander over into that area was somehow answering in the affirmative despite everything.
“All you’d have to do is say pretty please,” he purred, enjoying the way the tables had turned. The boy smelled so damn enticing and it confusing his instincts enough to make him struggle with his own control.
“But you’re afraid of something. Someone’s made you hate that all you want is for someone to fuck that ass of yours, haven’t they?”
ofviolentdeath 