Nine

Previouslyyyyy
"And t-then he spent a long damned t-time on me with that belt.." He choked out bitterly. I could tell from the way he said `belt` it must have been used on a regular basis, making the contents of my stomach swish and make me feel nautious.
The image of innocent Stanley, and his Father, whoever the hell that man thought he was, with a belt... no, I couldn`t even bring the scene to mind. I didn`t want to.
"And he... he was sober?" I gasped for confirmation, and my eyes were wide with shock.
"Y-Yeah."
I turned my head ever so slightly to look at the gash on his head. He had cleaned it up well enough. What blood remained on it was thankfully beginning to clot, preventing any furthur bleeding.
But it made me think - if his father had `spent a long damned time` on him with a belt... it wouldn`t have just been on his face, surely?
"...where else did he hit you?2 I asked shyly.
"Um... j-just my back.. and l-legs." He sniffled, "I - I know you`re trying to be real nice... and you are!" He said a little desperately.
"But I just wanna t-try not to think about it." He added with a shakey sigh.
Again, there was another one of those God-forsaken silences.
Well, with the exception of his painful, choked, quiet sniffles and cries. They made my heart feel as though it would turn to liwuid and seep away to nothing.
I simply pulled his and inch closer to me, and leaned my head on his, which was still on my shoulder.
About 5 minutes passed and his sobs were practically ended.
I decided that, again, I`d break the awful quietness.
"...Thank you." I murmured.
He blinked in surprise before answering.
"...for-"
"Coming over here," I cut him off, "And not being silly and staying there."
"Oh." He smiled ever-so-slightly, "Well... thank you."
"Thank you." I corrected.
"Now that you mention it, I am glad I came..."
I realised that we were still held in each other grasp, still in that strange form of a cosy hug.
"That`s good, Stanley.." I though out loud. "You should come over more often."
"Mmhmm." He mumbled uncertainly.
I ignored his unsureness.
"Actually, I think you should stay over." I persisted.
"Ha... that`s pushing it." He output a pitiful chuckle.
I didn`t laugh.
"I`m serious... just one night. To get away." I insisted.
"But -" It was as if a lightbulb had just switched on above his head, "Wait.. Um, actually... I think I heard him talking to one of his stupid drinking friends one night. I think they`re going out of town for a day or two... or something." He explained, a glint of hope present in his eyes.
"When...? Tonight?" I asked eagarly.
"I think so." He said thoughtfully, "At least, that`s what he said."
"What for?"
"He mentioned something about a casino.. and since there are none around here, I`m pretty sure he`s going out of Glinds."
"Well, there you have it!" I grinned widely, "You can stay here for tonight, at least."
I felt him nod against my shoulder.
"There`s a slight problem, though. I don`t have anything with me." He admitted, seemingly annoyed at himself.
"What do you mean?"
"Pyjama`s, toothbrush.. excetera?" He reminded.
"Oh.. well, you can use our spare toothbrush, eh?" I offered, "And Brent`s bound to have another pair of PJ`s lying around..."
"Brent?" He asked, furrowing his brows at the unfamiliarity of the name.
"My uncle." I explained, "He isn`t around much, though. Don`t worry."
"Oh. Okay."
There was a moments silence, and I felt him shift slightly in discomfort, probably because of my tight clutch.
"Oh.. sorry!" I murmured, a little embarassed. I loosened my grasp so he could have more space to breath with his fragile ribcage. But I didn`t let go, and neither did he.
He smiled in response.
"God... I`m such a cissy." I chuckled darkly.
"Why?" I raised my eyebrows.
"I`m going to a girls sleepover."
"Ha!" I laughed mockingly, "Technically, your not going. You`re already here, goofball. Anyway- what does it matter if I`m a girl?"
He shrugged childishly.
"I dunno... I`d probably be mistaken for a fag?" He said.
"I wouldn`t care if you were." I said seriously.
He laughed again, and I was amazed at how soothing I found the sound, even though it was an anxious chuckle. I just guessed that after years of living with his Dad, that was how he was bound to be.
Nervous, jumpy, and pessimistic - because the abuse had clearly made him grow up too fast.
"...Don`t worry about it. It`ll be awsome! We`ll paint each others nails, do makeovers..." I rambled jokingly, while he tried to hold back a smirk.
"Oh God... it`s gonna be the best night of my life." He scoffed sarcastically.
"Damn right."

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