A/N Rated mature for abusive homophobic actions, if you are not comfortable with reading that or it is triggering for you please don't read the large chunk of italicized text and just skip over it. I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable. Thank you!

“I’m sorry I laughed at you precious, I was just surprised that’s all. I wasn’t expecting… that from you. I pegged you as a completely different type of person and I owe you an apology for assuming something before I even met you. So, I’m sorry precious, so very sorry. Can we start over?”

His hand was now slowly carding through my chocolate coloured hair and my eyes fluttered shut at the euphoric feeling. Secretly, I loved my hair being touched, pulled or played with but it had to be with the right person. Usually, I would freak out if just anybody touched me but I loved it when he did it.

“Mhm.” I hummed, to blissed out and distracted by his fingers which were continuing to run through my hair while his other hand - which at some point had wrapped around my waist - was now holding me snug and safely against his hard chest. Not that they needed to since my arms were still firmly wrapped around his torso.

BHBSB (Brown-Haired Backstreet Boy) chuckled and I smiled despite myself at the nice sound.

“I’m Edric, a pleasure to meet you precious. What’s your name?”

The hand - which was still in my hair - didn’t stop stroking my locks and so my eyes stayed shut. I wouldn’t stop him even if he intended on holding me to the end of the century. At least I can now die in peace knowing that I witnessed what heaven felt like.

“I’m Killian, Killian Allerton,” I whispered, nuzzling into his chest without thinking.

I recoiled and pulled away from him, biting back the whine that bubbled up my throat as my actions made his hand leave my hair. I ignored the wanton feeling and quickly scooted off his lap, retreating to the other side of the curved booth before I blushed a dark shade of red and promptly stared down at my hands, utterly embarrassed at my actions and not altogether sure why I was still here and not halfway out the door by now.

“Sorry,” I whispered out just loud enough for him to hear. The deep thrum of the music seemed to fade away, leaving just him and me left in the empty void of blank space. I could feel my heartbeat beating inside my chest loud and quick, or maybe that was the music, I couldn’t tell.

Edric’s strong arms somehow wrapped themselves back around me and pulled me onto his lap once again. I struggled but stopped once he spoke, a shiver running down my spine.

“Killian, stop struggling.”

The sound of my name on his tongue did something to me. I grew up being teased for my odd name so henceforth, I grew up hating it, despising my parents for naming me something so out of the ordinary.

I gave up all pretense of trying to break free from his strong grasp and laid my head onto his shoulder defeatedly, letting my arms wrap around his waist and a small sigh escaping past my lips. This man-no… this Edric just made me feel safe, like I said before. Maybe it was the confidence and dominance that he just exuded without even trying, or maybe it was his kindness; you could just feel his pure heart whenever those silvery blue eyes sparkled. (Ugh, stupid poeticness again!) No matter what the reason was, I trusted him. Don’t ask me why though because I don’t know.

“Now, I want you to tell me why you panicked and tried to run away from me. I’m sorry for looking at your book but it’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.” His voice was soft and caring but it was clear that it held no room for arguing. I loved it.

“I-I.” I started to say, stopping myself so I could collect my thoughts. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting myself nuzzle into his neck before I spoke. I know that this man, this… Edric Wiston was a stranger but I felt like I had known him forever. And like I said before and keep saying, I trusted him. It was such a nice feeling that I hadn’t felt in such a long time. I wasn’t just the accident. I know that it was dangerous to be so trusting with a stranger but really, I didn’t have anything to lose and even if this man was a serial killer or something crazy like that I would still be happy that he had shown me kindness before he killed me. Call me crazy but I mean it.

“I have diagnosed anxiety, along with a mild case of ptsd.” I whispered against his neck, my words catching in my throat as his hand found its way into my hair. I melted into his hold and my arms unconsciously tightened around him.

“I like men.” I said abruptly, pausing once again when I frowned at my own words. It sounded to blunt so I tried to explain further.

“I don’t… I don’t like girls. And my parents couldn’t understand how o-or why I c-could do something l-like that to t-them… M-My father…” My voice cracked and I shook, having to swallow once to be able to continue. “A-And my brother…” I shuddered and Edric’s arms tightened comfortingly around me, even though my hands -which were clutching at fistfuls of his coat in a vice grip- were digging into his back at how hard I was holding onto him. I couldn't seem to find the words to tell him the whole story. It sounded so weak. Like I just couldn't handle my parents not accepting me for being gay. It wasn't just that, it was so much more.

“T-They just don’t… can’t and won’t u-understand.”

They don’t understand how I could love another man. They don’t think that I wanted to change. I was just the ‘accident’ and the ‘unexpected’ baby after they were done having their perfect family of three with their perfect son. I should be perfect and grateful for what I have. It's all my fault for being what I am… All. My. Fault

“I’m so disappointed Killian, I can’t call you ‘son’ anymore… No son of mine would be a fag.”

He spat out each word with such hatred and he punctuated every insult with a bruise or cut that left me gasping, cringing, or crying out in pain; even though I tried my best to stay silent. They were always worse when I wasn’t quiet.

“If I would’ve known you’d turn out like… ‘this’....”

A glob of spit landed on my face and my head stung and throbbed when a blow was landed on the back of it, making me choke on the sobs I was desperately trying to hold back. He hadn't just used his fists this time. Something much harder than a hand had struck me and if the sharp sound of glass reducing into pieces didn't give you a clue, the way I fell to the floor in a rain of shattered green fragments clear as ice would.

A new kind of pain, much deeper and sharper than the constant ache I had been experiencing for the last few months now took over my body and I started to shiver, my body racked with uncontrollable tremors from the excruciating agony I was in. They were just getting worse, they weren't getting any better and they never would; despite what I told myself. They hated me.

“I should have worn a condom.”

The man I once called my father sneered at me with disgust and then my so-called brother took his turn.

“It’s gross K! How could you do this to me!”

A fresh new torrent of punches and kicks rained down on me and I felt one of my ribs crack, that's when I knew it wasn't going to end.

“We sleep in the same room together and you’re… You disgust me.”

Their words echoed through my mind and my hand instinctively went to my side, my fingers tracing the many scars that ran across my ribs and down my stomach. My shirt hid all the proof of the abuse, but I knew they were there.

Futile attempts.

All of them.

Last attempts to try and ‘beat it out of me’ so they said.

It almost killed me.

They almost killed me.

So I ran.

I didn’t know why I was wanting to tell him any of this. I had buried all of these feelings deep, deep within myself and I don’t know why he had made it all resurface again. Why he had made me feel.

But I could tell that he listened. He shouldn’t have, and I shouldn’t assume but I almost just knew that he cared.

“I-I don’t k-know why I’m telling y-you any of t-this. I-I just w-wanna go home. I-I’m sorry, I s-should go. I don’t w-want you to bother-”

“No.”

Just one word, one word whispered into my ear and I could tell that he knew. He knew. All the emotions he felt were all laid out in that one small, whispered word… And I cried. No, I sobbed. Long, gut-wrenching heaves that made my whole shaking figure convulse as I let the terror, hate, and fear that I had bottled up out. I didn’t bother holding back this time because right now, at this moment, I knew someone really cared. And that someone was Edric.

I just cried. I didn’t know how long we sat there, me in his arms while his hand carded through my hair, whispering sweet nothings of encouragement into my ear as I cried. Years of pent-up hurt and pain were all washed away by his words, the arms around me keeping me safe and blocking out the world around us.

Eventually, I couldn’t feel my legs or arms so I stirred, managing to jerkily bring my hand up to wipe at my eyes. I was grateful that my nose wasn’t running too badly, that would have been an embarrassing nightmare. (It still was but I was hoping to keep a small scrap of my dignity.)

“T-Thank you.” Was all I managed to choke out, my voice hoarse from crying for so long.

Edric smiled, his lips coming to place a gentle kiss on my hair. And I let him.

“It’s alright precious, I’m here for you okay? I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that. I know how people can be, close-minded people.” He shook his head in distaste as he spoke the last of his sentence.

I nodded against his chest, slowly pulling away and sitting myself on the seat beside him. I missed how his arms made me feel so safe and warm as I slid off his lap but I didn’t say that out loud. I sniffled and wiped at my eyes, running a hand through my chocolate coloured hair in an attempt to calm myself down.

We sat in silence, both of us not knowing what to say to the other as the patrons around us went on with their lives oblivious and unknowing of what had happened.

“Would you like to go home precious? I can drive you if you like.” Edric offered tentatively, breaking through the silence softly and making my violet eyes snap to attention. My face was blotchy and my eyes were dry from crying, my fingers twitching from how stressed I was but I still managed to blush and become embarrassed from what he kept calling me. Precious. I wasn’t though. I shook my head, the action making my shaggy hair fall over my face but I didn’t care, it was like a safety shield and I wouldn’t push that away.

“I just met you,” I said quietly, a small smile twitching at the sides of my lips.

“You might be a serial killer, or worse, you could be part of my family.” I added the last part bitterly, my nose wrinkling in disgust as I scoffed.

He laughed, a small chuckle that made his eyes sparkle. Those eyes that were as unique as mine, the silvery blue colour as bright as a star but at the same time hazy as the fog resting along the river banks at dusk. They were rich in colour, but also light and secretive; a mystery that I wanted to know more about.

“Hey, it was just an offer. I…” He looked away and scratched the back of his neck, showing a sign of nervousness for the first time that night as his shoulders lifted into a small shrug. “I’m worried about you.” He admitted finally. “I know we just met but I wanna make sure you’re okay, and that you make it home safely.”

I gave him a bored expression and a raised brow. Why would he have any reason to be worried about me? There wasn’t any reason. He wasn’t my boyfriend, or even just my friend. We could literally count the hours that we had known each other. I gave a noncommittal grunt from the back of my throat and stared at him some more, not really sure what to say as an answer to that. Did he want a thank you? I could do that.

“Thanks?” The way the ‘S’ hissed as it slipped past my lips was sign enough of my confusion.

That just made him chuckle and he shook his head in an amused way. “No, that’s not what I’m looking for. I just…” Edric sighed and leaned back against the booth, the glossy red leather gliding smoothly against the fabric of his shirt as he did. He never finished his sentence, and I didn’t ask him to. My fingers reached across the table and wrapped around the straps of my messenger bag - which had been discarded on the tabletop earlier - and pulled it across the polished and shiny wood separating Edric and I from the ginormous dance floor that inhabited the center of the club; filled with a sea of people dancing and having a good time. I hugged the bag to my chest, my bottom lip coming in between my teeth as I thought. After a small shrug of indecision, I pulled out my sketchbook along with a thin pencil, laying the sketchbook on the table and writing my name and number down onto the corner of it. I ripped out the page and slid it over so it sat in front of Edric. The ‘K’ in the front of my name had a curl at the top of it and the end of the ‘N’ underlined the word. I had always preferred cursive over printing, a lost art if you asked me.

I felt like he at least deserved that, he had held me while I broke down and he listened. And I mean really listened. In fact, he deserved much more than just my number but that’s all I had to give. I never gave my number out to anybody so, he was a bit special. It made me smile just thinking about it.

After that I gave him a small smile and slid out of the booth, running a hand through my hair and swallowing the ball of nervousness I still had lodged in my chest. “Thanks again,” I said quietly before I turned and walked out of the club.

He didn’t stop me, and I was grateful for that.