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Realistic or Modern Going Under
- Thread starter Rachary
- Start date
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
Judith 'Jude' Van Brunt | Twenty-Four
Male | 5'11" | Tall/Lanky | Brown Eyes
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
The night had ended the way most of his nights did, but there was something different about tonight. In the years that Jude had known Paul, he had never seen the man so angry before. Sure, Paul was a generally angry person and Jude had received the blunt of his anger far too many times, but it had never been this bad before. Jude had never been more scared. Paul had come home later than usual and very drunk, insisting that Jude come to bed with him the moment he stepped into the small apartment they shared. Jude, however, had refused, and he knew now that refusing was his one mistake. In the years of their relationship, Jude hadn't defied Paul once. He always feared what would happen if he said no, so he simply let the man have his way with him every single time.
Jude knew now the consequences of defying Paul. His boyfriend had gotten angry immediately, a fire in his eyes that Jude had never witnessed before. He had recognized the anger and immediately began pleading that he didn't do anything physical, slowly making his way to the bathroom he had locked himself in so many times before. But Paul had grabbed him before he could make an escape, pulling him by a fist full of his hair and dragging him to their bedroom floor. After Paul had his way with Jude, leaving the other laying on the floor, he had left the apartment for the bar yet again.
Despite the pain his body was in and the fact that it hurt to even walk, Jude had been off of the floor the moment Paul had stepped out of their apartment. He wiped the tears off of his cheeks with a gentle hand, careful not to hurt his face more than it already had. His nose was bleeding and his cheek felt bruised. It was in that instance that Jude decided he had enough of Paul's behavior. Though he didn't quite believe it before, he knew now that he didn't deserve to stay in a such a horrible relationship; nobody did. He slowly shuffled his way to the bathroom to begin wiping away some of the blood so he wouldn't be questioned as he walked down the street, biting his knuckle to avoid crying out. Even without Paul there, he was afraid to make a noise.
He then made his way back to their bedroom, grabbing one of Paul's sports duffle bags from their closet. He filled it full of an assortment of Paul's clothing. Paul had never allowed him to go out and buy himself some clothes, only letting him have his required work uniforms. Slacks and collared shirts were less than desirable, so he grabbed some of Paul's more comfortable clothing: loose shirts and sweatpants. He pulled a sweatshirt off of the hanger and carefully put it on to cover the bruises and cuts that marked his chest and arms, wincing as his shoulder ached and the cloth rubbed against the cuts. When the bag was full, he quickly put on some shoes and set the strap over the shoulder that didn't ache as badly. With that, he walked out of their apartment. No, Paul's apartment. Jude never planned on stepping foot in the damned place again.
When he was sure that Paul had left completely, scanning the parking lot from the window to check for his car, Jude had stepped outside. He took a deep breath and considered going back inside for a moment. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he shut the door behind him and made his way slowly down the three flights of stairs. He wished more than ever that he had a car, but he was willing to walk the lengths of the Earth if it meant he got away from Paul. He found a taxi after walking for a few minutes and told the driver to bring him to the only place he could think of. Milo.
It was those series of events that had led the young man to where he was now: standing on Milo's porch. He exhaled shakily through his nose, bringing a fist to the other man's door. His fist hovered over the door and he could see now how truly nervous he was. His hands shook and his heart was in his throat. He pinched his eyes shut and knocked three times, anxious about the reaction he'd receive.
Jude knew now the consequences of defying Paul. His boyfriend had gotten angry immediately, a fire in his eyes that Jude had never witnessed before. He had recognized the anger and immediately began pleading that he didn't do anything physical, slowly making his way to the bathroom he had locked himself in so many times before. But Paul had grabbed him before he could make an escape, pulling him by a fist full of his hair and dragging him to their bedroom floor. After Paul had his way with Jude, leaving the other laying on the floor, he had left the apartment for the bar yet again.
Despite the pain his body was in and the fact that it hurt to even walk, Jude had been off of the floor the moment Paul had stepped out of their apartment. He wiped the tears off of his cheeks with a gentle hand, careful not to hurt his face more than it already had. His nose was bleeding and his cheek felt bruised. It was in that instance that Jude decided he had enough of Paul's behavior. Though he didn't quite believe it before, he knew now that he didn't deserve to stay in a such a horrible relationship; nobody did. He slowly shuffled his way to the bathroom to begin wiping away some of the blood so he wouldn't be questioned as he walked down the street, biting his knuckle to avoid crying out. Even without Paul there, he was afraid to make a noise.
He then made his way back to their bedroom, grabbing one of Paul's sports duffle bags from their closet. He filled it full of an assortment of Paul's clothing. Paul had never allowed him to go out and buy himself some clothes, only letting him have his required work uniforms. Slacks and collared shirts were less than desirable, so he grabbed some of Paul's more comfortable clothing: loose shirts and sweatpants. He pulled a sweatshirt off of the hanger and carefully put it on to cover the bruises and cuts that marked his chest and arms, wincing as his shoulder ached and the cloth rubbed against the cuts. When the bag was full, he quickly put on some shoes and set the strap over the shoulder that didn't ache as badly. With that, he walked out of their apartment. No, Paul's apartment. Jude never planned on stepping foot in the damned place again.
When he was sure that Paul had left completely, scanning the parking lot from the window to check for his car, Jude had stepped outside. He took a deep breath and considered going back inside for a moment. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he shut the door behind him and made his way slowly down the three flights of stairs. He wished more than ever that he had a car, but he was willing to walk the lengths of the Earth if it meant he got away from Paul. He found a taxi after walking for a few minutes and told the driver to bring him to the only place he could think of. Milo.
It was those series of events that had led the young man to where he was now: standing on Milo's porch. He exhaled shakily through his nose, bringing a fist to the other man's door. His fist hovered over the door and he could see now how truly nervous he was. His hands shook and his heart was in his throat. He pinched his eyes shut and knocked three times, anxious about the reaction he'd receive.
Rachary
Chocolate understands.
Milo was a man with a past as dark as the Mariana trench, that he shared with no one ever.
But, at least for now, the past was in the past.
These days, Milo lived a fairly normal life, working as a drafting and design technician for a big company that shared a building with another big company.
It was a great arrangement, in his opinion, as the two companies never worked in competition due to their different fields of activity and usually worked together really well, even celebrating special occasions together.
He remembered the day he had met Jude like it had been yesterday;
It had been the annual Christmas party;
Milo's assistant had approached him that evening, Waring a lopsided santa hat and an absolutely horrible jacket with Christmas tree print, to tell him that an assistant of the other company had told him that they'd join the party a little later because of an emergency.
Milo, being the helpful man he was, had immediately gone to see if he could help somehow-
Turned out their servers were lagging and important data was about to get lost forever because someone had forgotten to make a safety copy.
Thank God Milo's company had been working with the same basic software for their servers until last year, when they had upgraded to a newer version because of exactly those lags. He had had to fix them in the past a couple of times, and so he had caught the first worker he could find and told him to bring him to the main computer.
It had been one hell of work and stress, but after about two hours, Milo and his assistant- both previous members of the same underground group of hackers- had managed to stabilize the system.
The rest of the evening had been spent in an even better mood than last year's party and Milo had been celebrating most of it with the guy who had showed him the main computer.
A few lunch breaks had been spent together in the shared canteen, but the topics had overall stayed quite perfunctory; both being seemingly not that into sharing their stories.
Yet, Jude was someone whose company Milo enjoyed, and that by fair couldn't be said about everyone; Milo had a tendency to feel threatened by other men, which also explained while he had almost exclusively female friends.
It had led to some people thinking he was a womanizer, but fact is, he was sick of relationships as of now, so he never actively searched for romantic contact with anyone.
Milo let out a long sigh, resting his chin on the steering wheel of his car and staring ahead at the monstrous traffic jam in front of him.
"What did I do to deserve this?!", He groaned.
He had left the office and hour ago and hadn't even made five miles till then- he was stuck on this street with honking cars and swearing drivers and feeling not happy at all. His AC was failing, it was cold outside, and, guess what, cold in here as well.
His breath formed small clouds as he shuddered and pulled his winter coat and scarf a little tighter around his broad frame and wished he wasn't here but at home, in front of his fireplace, enjoying a movie and a steaming hot tea.
Instead, he sat here and wondered if it was possible to freeze to death in a traffic jam.
As if that wasn't already enough to make him wanna scream, the radio started playing Wham!'s Last Christmas and Milo was done for good.
"Fuck!", He yelled, turned the radio off and spent the rest of this god-forsaken two-hour drive home brooding over his anger in silence.
When he had finally arrived at home, Milo immediately headed upstairs into his bedroom to change into some comfy clothes, just a light blue Henley t-shirt and a pair of loose, grey joggers.
It was comfortably warm here in his house, so he went back downstairs barefoot, got the fire going and huddled up in a fluffy blanket with a hot Cinnamon tea, watching three wishes for Cinderella... He felt nostalgic tonight.
Back when he had been a little boy he had watched that film with his mother, at least before everything had gone downhill with her.
The schizophrenia had turned her into a different person... A person who wasn't able to take care of her child.
But his foster family had been great, so he was okay so far.
Just when he had been close to falling asleep right there with his tea and blanket, Milo heard a knock on the door and frowned softly, looking in the direction of the entrance door.
Who would come to visit him at a time like this?
His friend Vladi was on vacation in Japan, so the only one he could think of was definitely not a possibility.
He turned the TV off, put the cup of tea on the table and slowly made it over to the door, getting ready to defend himself against an assault or anything.
But when he opened the door, he found Jude standing on his porch, eyes shut and looking as if he had just messed with a professional boxer. He could see the bruise on his cheek and guessing from how his nose looked, it was either broken or at least damaged. He looked horrible, to put it nicely.
"Jude?", Milo asked, concern clear in his expression and voice.
The other man's eyes looked a little swollen, as if he had cried not too long ago.
"My God, what happened to you? Come in, come-"
He took the duffel bag from him and put it on the floor before he carefully led him into the living room and made him sit down on the couch, placing himself next to him, one leg pulled up on the couch because he was sitting to face Judith.
"Jesus, you look awful...", he muttered pityful and got up again to get him a cooling pad for his cheek.
"Here", he said as he wrapped it in a towel and gave it to him before he sat down again.
"Man, tell me- what happened to you?"
But, at least for now, the past was in the past.
These days, Milo lived a fairly normal life, working as a drafting and design technician for a big company that shared a building with another big company.
It was a great arrangement, in his opinion, as the two companies never worked in competition due to their different fields of activity and usually worked together really well, even celebrating special occasions together.
He remembered the day he had met Jude like it had been yesterday;
It had been the annual Christmas party;
Milo's assistant had approached him that evening, Waring a lopsided santa hat and an absolutely horrible jacket with Christmas tree print, to tell him that an assistant of the other company had told him that they'd join the party a little later because of an emergency.
Milo, being the helpful man he was, had immediately gone to see if he could help somehow-
Turned out their servers were lagging and important data was about to get lost forever because someone had forgotten to make a safety copy.
Thank God Milo's company had been working with the same basic software for their servers until last year, when they had upgraded to a newer version because of exactly those lags. He had had to fix them in the past a couple of times, and so he had caught the first worker he could find and told him to bring him to the main computer.
It had been one hell of work and stress, but after about two hours, Milo and his assistant- both previous members of the same underground group of hackers- had managed to stabilize the system.
The rest of the evening had been spent in an even better mood than last year's party and Milo had been celebrating most of it with the guy who had showed him the main computer.
A few lunch breaks had been spent together in the shared canteen, but the topics had overall stayed quite perfunctory; both being seemingly not that into sharing their stories.
Yet, Jude was someone whose company Milo enjoyed, and that by fair couldn't be said about everyone; Milo had a tendency to feel threatened by other men, which also explained while he had almost exclusively female friends.
It had led to some people thinking he was a womanizer, but fact is, he was sick of relationships as of now, so he never actively searched for romantic contact with anyone.
Milo let out a long sigh, resting his chin on the steering wheel of his car and staring ahead at the monstrous traffic jam in front of him.
"What did I do to deserve this?!", He groaned.
He had left the office and hour ago and hadn't even made five miles till then- he was stuck on this street with honking cars and swearing drivers and feeling not happy at all. His AC was failing, it was cold outside, and, guess what, cold in here as well.
His breath formed small clouds as he shuddered and pulled his winter coat and scarf a little tighter around his broad frame and wished he wasn't here but at home, in front of his fireplace, enjoying a movie and a steaming hot tea.
Instead, he sat here and wondered if it was possible to freeze to death in a traffic jam.
As if that wasn't already enough to make him wanna scream, the radio started playing Wham!'s Last Christmas and Milo was done for good.
"Fuck!", He yelled, turned the radio off and spent the rest of this god-forsaken two-hour drive home brooding over his anger in silence.
When he had finally arrived at home, Milo immediately headed upstairs into his bedroom to change into some comfy clothes, just a light blue Henley t-shirt and a pair of loose, grey joggers.
It was comfortably warm here in his house, so he went back downstairs barefoot, got the fire going and huddled up in a fluffy blanket with a hot Cinnamon tea, watching three wishes for Cinderella... He felt nostalgic tonight.
Back when he had been a little boy he had watched that film with his mother, at least before everything had gone downhill with her.
The schizophrenia had turned her into a different person... A person who wasn't able to take care of her child.
But his foster family had been great, so he was okay so far.
Just when he had been close to falling asleep right there with his tea and blanket, Milo heard a knock on the door and frowned softly, looking in the direction of the entrance door.
Who would come to visit him at a time like this?
His friend Vladi was on vacation in Japan, so the only one he could think of was definitely not a possibility.
He turned the TV off, put the cup of tea on the table and slowly made it over to the door, getting ready to defend himself against an assault or anything.
But when he opened the door, he found Jude standing on his porch, eyes shut and looking as if he had just messed with a professional boxer. He could see the bruise on his cheek and guessing from how his nose looked, it was either broken or at least damaged. He looked horrible, to put it nicely.
"Jude?", Milo asked, concern clear in his expression and voice.
The other man's eyes looked a little swollen, as if he had cried not too long ago.
"My God, what happened to you? Come in, come-"
He took the duffel bag from him and put it on the floor before he carefully led him into the living room and made him sit down on the couch, placing himself next to him, one leg pulled up on the couch because he was sitting to face Judith.
"Jesus, you look awful...", he muttered pityful and got up again to get him a cooling pad for his cheek.
"Here", he said as he wrapped it in a towel and gave it to him before he sat down again.
"Man, tell me- what happened to you?"
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
Jude had always been a man who was able to keep his emotions in check. Despite what usually carried on at home, he was always smiling and laughing and never suggested that there was anything bad in his life at all. Right now, however, he was struggling.
The moment Milo had opened his door, Jude quickly opened his eyes and inhaled sharply. For a moment, he wanted to turn around and leave. He was certain he was a bother to the man and that was the last thing he wanted. Before he could change his mind and leave, Milo had grabbed the duffle bag and brought it inside. He was silent as he was then led into the living room, thousands of thoughts rushing through his head. At the same time, he was both scared and relieved. He had actually managed to get away from Paul. Paul didn't know Milo existed. But Paul was a smart man, he knew. Despite his violent nature, Paul was able to do anything he put his mind to. He knew it was only a matter of time before he came looking for him.
"I'm fine," he had insisted at first, taking the wrapped up cooling pad from the other man's hand. He didn't glance at Milo for a moment, keeping his gaze straight ahead at the television. For years, he had kept his home situation to himself. Nobody knew and that was just the way he wanted. Or was it the way Paul wanted? Jude couldn't determine anymore. He didn't want people to pity him and Paul didn't want to go to jail. He made it clear what the punishment of telling someone would be. He blinked, trying to think of anything else. He held the towel in his hand for a moment before finally placing it against his cheek, careful not to press too hard.
Once more, he pinched his eyes closed. The more he thought about Paul and himself, the more he wanted to cry, and Jude was determined not to cry in front of Milo. Again, Milo had asked him what happened and he sighed shakily. He continued to stay silent, pondering just what to sat. What was Paul going to do if he told? For now, at least, he figured he was safe at Milo's house. Paul would never find out if he told Milo. Figuring that was a good enough reason to speak, he did.
"Paul," he answered simply. It was a rather vague answer but it was strange to say nonetheless. He hadn't told a soul before and here he was telling someone for the first time. Sure, it was only a name, but he was pretty sure Milo could connect the dots. Paul and Milo had never met that he knew of, but Jude had mentioned Paul as his boyfriend before. Taking another deep breath, Jude finally turned to face Milo.
Positive he was a burden to the man, he looked at him with pleasing eyes. "Please, just let me stay until morning," he stammered, his heart pounding once more. "You won't even know I'm here. Paul doesn't know you, so he won't think to look here. I just need somewhere to stay tonight." Deep breath. "Please."
The moment Milo had opened his door, Jude quickly opened his eyes and inhaled sharply. For a moment, he wanted to turn around and leave. He was certain he was a bother to the man and that was the last thing he wanted. Before he could change his mind and leave, Milo had grabbed the duffle bag and brought it inside. He was silent as he was then led into the living room, thousands of thoughts rushing through his head. At the same time, he was both scared and relieved. He had actually managed to get away from Paul. Paul didn't know Milo existed. But Paul was a smart man, he knew. Despite his violent nature, Paul was able to do anything he put his mind to. He knew it was only a matter of time before he came looking for him.
"I'm fine," he had insisted at first, taking the wrapped up cooling pad from the other man's hand. He didn't glance at Milo for a moment, keeping his gaze straight ahead at the television. For years, he had kept his home situation to himself. Nobody knew and that was just the way he wanted. Or was it the way Paul wanted? Jude couldn't determine anymore. He didn't want people to pity him and Paul didn't want to go to jail. He made it clear what the punishment of telling someone would be. He blinked, trying to think of anything else. He held the towel in his hand for a moment before finally placing it against his cheek, careful not to press too hard.
Once more, he pinched his eyes closed. The more he thought about Paul and himself, the more he wanted to cry, and Jude was determined not to cry in front of Milo. Again, Milo had asked him what happened and he sighed shakily. He continued to stay silent, pondering just what to sat. What was Paul going to do if he told? For now, at least, he figured he was safe at Milo's house. Paul would never find out if he told Milo. Figuring that was a good enough reason to speak, he did.
"Paul," he answered simply. It was a rather vague answer but it was strange to say nonetheless. He hadn't told a soul before and here he was telling someone for the first time. Sure, it was only a name, but he was pretty sure Milo could connect the dots. Paul and Milo had never met that he knew of, but Jude had mentioned Paul as his boyfriend before. Taking another deep breath, Jude finally turned to face Milo.
Positive he was a burden to the man, he looked at him with pleasing eyes. "Please, just let me stay until morning," he stammered, his heart pounding once more. "You won't even know I'm here. Paul doesn't know you, so he won't think to look here. I just need somewhere to stay tonight." Deep breath. "Please."
Rachary
Chocolate understands.
Milo was a man of many faces. He could make you feel like you're having the time of your life or absolutely awful. A friend had once said that it was like he had a calm ocean and a raging fire inside him at the same time.
He just was that kind of person, and normally, he had his emotions under very good control.
It usually took a lot to make him lose his temper and even more to make him lose it physically, but abuse was probably the one thing, the one button to push, that made him blow up instantly, even if he still tried to hide it very very good.
Some might wonder why of all possible triggers abuse was his number one; and no one knew the answer.
Actually, no one really knew that it even was his one trigger at all, causing most people to know Milo as a big, gentle teddy bear who always had a nice word for everyone and was there whenever he was needed.
He could be the polar opposite of that as well, though.
So when all Jude said was 'Paul', the name of his boyfriend, if recalled correctly, the handle of the glass cup of tea that he had luckily emptied by now snapped in his hand when he gripped it too tight.
That god-forsaken pig of a man-
Swearing silently, Milo put the cup and disassembled parts of the handle on the table.
"Darn...", he muttered silently upon noticing the cut on his palm. "One second", he said, before he got up and got himself a towel from the kitchen to wrap it around his hand so he wouldn't bleed on the couch.
He was just back in the living room when Jude started pleading for Milo to let him stay at his place for the night, promising he wouldn't even know they he was there... Was it possible that he had no idea how normal, non-abusive people acted? Or at least people with some basic sense of helpfulness?
Hell what kind of person would he be to refuse helping when this guy here definitely needed help.
There was something to keep in mind though-
His little aggression problem when it came to abuse. Guessing from past experiences, he could be ninety percent certain that this Paul would go and seek for Jude, if he hadn't already followed him here, and for sure wouldn't just leave him alone like that;
And if Paul and Milo would come face to face at some point, it was out of question that Paul would regret it.
Still though, he couldn't just refuse to help, right? And to be honest, he didn't want to either. He had done a lot of things in the past that he wasn't proud of, and he wanted to be better than he had been.
"Hey, cool down", he said gently as he picked up his fluffy blanket from the armchair and, careful not to hurt him, put it around Jude's shoulders for comfort before he got up and went into the kitchen once more.
Soon enough, Milo came back with two steaming cups of hot chocolate. He set his own down on the table and offered the other one to his unexpected visitor.
"You stay here and get better, I have a guest room upstairs. Make yourself at home, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. And don't worry; even if that Paul will manage to find you here, he won't make it past me. You're safe."
The man's voice was full of sincerity as he said this, and even moreso when he gave Jude a warm smile.
"Now, don't you worry about anything. You stay as long as you need and tomorrow, we'll see how we'll continue about this mess, 'kay? You'll be fine."
He leaned back in his couch for a moment before an idea crossed his mind and he turned to Judith once more.
"By the way, did you have dinner already? We could order some pizza if you'd like "
He just was that kind of person, and normally, he had his emotions under very good control.
It usually took a lot to make him lose his temper and even more to make him lose it physically, but abuse was probably the one thing, the one button to push, that made him blow up instantly, even if he still tried to hide it very very good.
Some might wonder why of all possible triggers abuse was his number one; and no one knew the answer.
Actually, no one really knew that it even was his one trigger at all, causing most people to know Milo as a big, gentle teddy bear who always had a nice word for everyone and was there whenever he was needed.
He could be the polar opposite of that as well, though.
So when all Jude said was 'Paul', the name of his boyfriend, if recalled correctly, the handle of the glass cup of tea that he had luckily emptied by now snapped in his hand when he gripped it too tight.
That god-forsaken pig of a man-
Swearing silently, Milo put the cup and disassembled parts of the handle on the table.
"Darn...", he muttered silently upon noticing the cut on his palm. "One second", he said, before he got up and got himself a towel from the kitchen to wrap it around his hand so he wouldn't bleed on the couch.
He was just back in the living room when Jude started pleading for Milo to let him stay at his place for the night, promising he wouldn't even know they he was there... Was it possible that he had no idea how normal, non-abusive people acted? Or at least people with some basic sense of helpfulness?
Hell what kind of person would he be to refuse helping when this guy here definitely needed help.
There was something to keep in mind though-
His little aggression problem when it came to abuse. Guessing from past experiences, he could be ninety percent certain that this Paul would go and seek for Jude, if he hadn't already followed him here, and for sure wouldn't just leave him alone like that;
And if Paul and Milo would come face to face at some point, it was out of question that Paul would regret it.
Still though, he couldn't just refuse to help, right? And to be honest, he didn't want to either. He had done a lot of things in the past that he wasn't proud of, and he wanted to be better than he had been.
"Hey, cool down", he said gently as he picked up his fluffy blanket from the armchair and, careful not to hurt him, put it around Jude's shoulders for comfort before he got up and went into the kitchen once more.
Soon enough, Milo came back with two steaming cups of hot chocolate. He set his own down on the table and offered the other one to his unexpected visitor.
"You stay here and get better, I have a guest room upstairs. Make yourself at home, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. And don't worry; even if that Paul will manage to find you here, he won't make it past me. You're safe."
The man's voice was full of sincerity as he said this, and even moreso when he gave Jude a warm smile.
"Now, don't you worry about anything. You stay as long as you need and tomorrow, we'll see how we'll continue about this mess, 'kay? You'll be fine."
He leaned back in his couch for a moment before an idea crossed his mind and he turned to Judith once more.
"By the way, did you have dinner already? We could order some pizza if you'd like "
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
Jude's eyes darted to the cup as it broke in the other's hands, flinching only slightly as it did. It was unusual for him to be so silent, but his mind wasn't producing anything to say. Normally, the man was somewhat of a chatterbox. He laughed and smiled and talked constantly, but that hadn't been the case tonight. It was impossible to hide the truth from Milo now, even if he wanted to. The bruise on his cheek and his nose and his silence all suggested otherwise. He sucked in his breath. Milo had mentioned that he looked awful, and that was only his face. He was anxious to see how the rest of him looked, underneath the sweater he wore.
He didn't realize that he was still staring at the mug, pursing his lips into a frown when he realized the cut on Milo's hand. The fact that Milo was apparently that strong made him nervous, especially since he hadn't recalled seeing Milo angry ever. He simply hoped it wasn't his fault. When Milo left, he assumed to take care of his hand, Jude returned his gaze forward. He wished he could sink into the cushions of the couch and disappear. He was thankful he was here and safe, but he hadn't felt so self-conscious before. He didn't want pity or to be babied. He wanted everything to disappear and never have happened in the first place. But that wasn't the case and he was still grateful for Milo.
As he was told to cool down, he shut his mouth closed and nodded slightly. He wanted to continue begging the other to get him stay, but Milo had a genuine look on his face and he was assured that he was going to let him. For the night at least. When the blanket was placed over his shoulders, Jude had finally moved his hands that had been fidgeting in his lap. He grabbed the two ends of the blanket and wrapped himself up even tighter, thankful for the warmth and the comforting feeling it gave, the cooling pad pinched between his cheek and his shoulder. Jude's gaze followed Milo into the kitchen as he left once more. When he was out of sight, he did his best to calm himself down a bit, taking deep, shaky breaths. He was okay he had to reassure himself over and over again.
"Thank you," he whispered when the hot chocolate was brought to him, holding the mug in both of his hands. He didn't take a sip yet, but held his face over the steam. He let out a relieved sigh as he explained that he had a guest bedroom, calming down a bit only at the mention of it. Even though he was sure Milo was going to let him stay, he couldn't help but feel anxious until he actually confirmed it. Even better, Milo was going to stop Paul if he appeared at his door for any reason. The relief was evident on his face and he nodded in understanding. He was safe, Milo had said it himself.
Jude noticed the sincerity in his tone and the warm smile he gave, making him nod again as he continued speaking. He allowed the corners of his lips to lift in a small smile, so thankful that he was away from Paul for the night and hopefully for many nights to come. It had been too long since he'd been away from the man. "Okay," he breathed after a moment, showing that he understood and mostly believed what Milo was telling him.
When pizza was offered, he thought about it for a moment. He hadn't had dinner but he didn't have much of an appetite either. Looking at Milo, he shrugged lightly. "Pizza sounds good," he spoke. He figured it was best if he tried to eat something. If not, he was sure Milo would be able to eat it or at least save it for another day.
He didn't realize that he was still staring at the mug, pursing his lips into a frown when he realized the cut on Milo's hand. The fact that Milo was apparently that strong made him nervous, especially since he hadn't recalled seeing Milo angry ever. He simply hoped it wasn't his fault. When Milo left, he assumed to take care of his hand, Jude returned his gaze forward. He wished he could sink into the cushions of the couch and disappear. He was thankful he was here and safe, but he hadn't felt so self-conscious before. He didn't want pity or to be babied. He wanted everything to disappear and never have happened in the first place. But that wasn't the case and he was still grateful for Milo.
As he was told to cool down, he shut his mouth closed and nodded slightly. He wanted to continue begging the other to get him stay, but Milo had a genuine look on his face and he was assured that he was going to let him. For the night at least. When the blanket was placed over his shoulders, Jude had finally moved his hands that had been fidgeting in his lap. He grabbed the two ends of the blanket and wrapped himself up even tighter, thankful for the warmth and the comforting feeling it gave, the cooling pad pinched between his cheek and his shoulder. Jude's gaze followed Milo into the kitchen as he left once more. When he was out of sight, he did his best to calm himself down a bit, taking deep, shaky breaths. He was okay he had to reassure himself over and over again.
"Thank you," he whispered when the hot chocolate was brought to him, holding the mug in both of his hands. He didn't take a sip yet, but held his face over the steam. He let out a relieved sigh as he explained that he had a guest bedroom, calming down a bit only at the mention of it. Even though he was sure Milo was going to let him stay, he couldn't help but feel anxious until he actually confirmed it. Even better, Milo was going to stop Paul if he appeared at his door for any reason. The relief was evident on his face and he nodded in understanding. He was safe, Milo had said it himself.
Jude noticed the sincerity in his tone and the warm smile he gave, making him nod again as he continued speaking. He allowed the corners of his lips to lift in a small smile, so thankful that he was away from Paul for the night and hopefully for many nights to come. It had been too long since he'd been away from the man. "Okay," he breathed after a moment, showing that he understood and mostly believed what Milo was telling him.
When pizza was offered, he thought about it for a moment. He hadn't had dinner but he didn't have much of an appetite either. Looking at Milo, he shrugged lightly. "Pizza sounds good," he spoke. He figured it was best if he tried to eat something. If not, he was sure Milo would be able to eat it or at least save it for another day.
Rachary
Chocolate understands.
Milo was worried about how silent Jude was, minding that they had always been laughing and talking a lot when had been having lunch together, but after experiencing something like that, it was understandable he was off.
When Jude thanked him for the hot chocolate, Milo gave him his brightest smile, partly to cheer him up, partly to make up for how he had seemingly startled him when he had accidentally broken the mug.
He knew that had probably been scary for him, minding the violence he had gone through earlier.
He'd make it his personal mission for tonight to make Jude feel a little better.
"Hey, that's what friends are there for", he said, and gave him a very careful Pat on the back, making sure he wouldn't hurt him before he got his phone to call the pizza service.
After ordering two big pizzas, he hang up and just watched the fire for a moment, his expression very thoughtful.
He could tell Jude didn't feel like talking much right now, but he also knew that not talking about it at all could possibly just make everything worse.
Repression was a momentary solution, but it was like poison long-term.
He just wasn't sure how to approach that topic because no one had approached him back then.
So what to do?
Maybe, he figured, maybe he should just approach the topic how he would have wished someone to talk about it years ago.
Or maybe he should just keep his mouth shut.
It was an awful to have no idea what to do.
Trying to distract himself he unwrapped his bleeding hand to look at the injury, frowning when he noticed that the cut was quite long and deep.
"Dammit...", He mumbled silently, watching the blood run down his hand.
That didn't look good, not at all.
He had to stem the bleeding somehow and see a doc tomorrow... Or he'd just patch himself up, like all the times he had done a so years ago.
Sighing softly, he went over to the shelf where he kept his first aid kit and got the stuff he needed.
Disinfectant,Anesthetic cream, sterile needle and suture, flashlight.
Sighing softly, he threw a side-glance at Jude.
"Sorry, this is...gross, but I'm not keen on bleeding to death or catching an infection..."
He turned the flashlight on for better lighting, held it in his mouth, applied the disinfectant and dabbed everything dry before he applied the cream and waited for a bit to numb the skin around the cut before he sewed it up like it was an everyday thing to do.
When he was done, Milo dripped some iodine on it and wrapped it up in a fresh bandage.
He put the used stuff away, and just when he wanted to return to the living room after bringing the used needle and suture into the bin, the Pizza service rang the doorbell.
"Ahh, pizza!", He said excitedly, went to open the door and pay and soon came back with rmsaid two big pizzas.
He set them on the table in front of the couch before he got down next to Jude again and just spent a minute looking at the slice of pizza in his hand.
"Jude?", he said silently, sounding much more serious than usually while his the index finger of his injured hand went to his eyebrow cut. "If you ever want to talk about it... Let's say I can relate. You can talk to me, okay?"
When Jude thanked him for the hot chocolate, Milo gave him his brightest smile, partly to cheer him up, partly to make up for how he had seemingly startled him when he had accidentally broken the mug.
He knew that had probably been scary for him, minding the violence he had gone through earlier.
He'd make it his personal mission for tonight to make Jude feel a little better.
"Hey, that's what friends are there for", he said, and gave him a very careful Pat on the back, making sure he wouldn't hurt him before he got his phone to call the pizza service.
After ordering two big pizzas, he hang up and just watched the fire for a moment, his expression very thoughtful.
He could tell Jude didn't feel like talking much right now, but he also knew that not talking about it at all could possibly just make everything worse.
Repression was a momentary solution, but it was like poison long-term.
He just wasn't sure how to approach that topic because no one had approached him back then.
So what to do?
Maybe, he figured, maybe he should just approach the topic how he would have wished someone to talk about it years ago.
Or maybe he should just keep his mouth shut.
It was an awful to have no idea what to do.
Trying to distract himself he unwrapped his bleeding hand to look at the injury, frowning when he noticed that the cut was quite long and deep.
"Dammit...", He mumbled silently, watching the blood run down his hand.
That didn't look good, not at all.
He had to stem the bleeding somehow and see a doc tomorrow... Or he'd just patch himself up, like all the times he had done a so years ago.
Sighing softly, he went over to the shelf where he kept his first aid kit and got the stuff he needed.
Disinfectant,Anesthetic cream, sterile needle and suture, flashlight.
Sighing softly, he threw a side-glance at Jude.
"Sorry, this is...gross, but I'm not keen on bleeding to death or catching an infection..."
He turned the flashlight on for better lighting, held it in his mouth, applied the disinfectant and dabbed everything dry before he applied the cream and waited for a bit to numb the skin around the cut before he sewed it up like it was an everyday thing to do.
When he was done, Milo dripped some iodine on it and wrapped it up in a fresh bandage.
He put the used stuff away, and just when he wanted to return to the living room after bringing the used needle and suture into the bin, the Pizza service rang the doorbell.
"Ahh, pizza!", He said excitedly, went to open the door and pay and soon came back with rmsaid two big pizzas.
He set them on the table in front of the couch before he got down next to Jude again and just spent a minute looking at the slice of pizza in his hand.
"Jude?", he said silently, sounding much more serious than usually while his the index finger of his injured hand went to his eyebrow cut. "If you ever want to talk about it... Let's say I can relate. You can talk to me, okay?"
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
The more he remained silent and lost in thought, the more anxious he got about the entire situation. Simply thinking about Paul and what he had done and what he could still do made him worry. His hands continued to shake and found it difficult to breathe properly; switching from holding his breath and breathing too fast. Before he dropped it on himself, he leaned over to place his mug of hot chocolate on the table. It needed to cool down anyway. He needed to talk, he decided. To distract himself from his thoughts.
He didn't, though. Instead he turned to face Milo one more, listening as he ordered the pizzas and then watching as he unwrapped his injured hand and stitched it up. It was disturbing to watch but he couldn't peel his eyes away. Besides, he was thankful he was thinking 'that's disgusting' instead of thinking about Paul in the moment. When Milo commented on how it was gross, he nodded ever so slightly in agreement. "Does that not hurt?" He whispered. His voice was soft and timid, but he was glad he was at least speaking. He didn't want to think about anything or speak about anything regarding himself at the moment. Or ever. When he was with Paul, he wasn't allowed to speak loudly or he'd be punished for raising his voice. Even though he knew he wasn't with Paul anymore, the fear was still present.
When the pizza arrived, he looked at the two boxes in disdain. He really didn't have much of an appetite, but for the sake of being polite, he grabbed the smallest piece in the box and set it on a plate. His movements were slow and he was reminded of the injuries he was hiding beneath his sweater; namely many cuts and bruises and his aching shoulder. He cringed in discomfort as he reached out for it before sinking back into the couch, hoping Milo hadn't noticed. He felt strangely embarrassed and pathetic simply by being there in his presence. He wished he was with Milo under any other circumstances.
The idea of talking really was appealing. He wanted to pour his heart out and have someone understand and know what had happened. He knew it was the healthy thing to do. He just didn't know how to without being a gross, emotional wreck. He didn't even know how he had managed to behave so nonchalantly to begin with. Sure, his body shook and his breathing was abnormal, but he hadn't cried despite that being all he wanted to do. He was sure revealing what had actually happened would push him over the edge. He was not going to cry in front of Milo.
"I'm... I'm okay," he lied in reply, briefly glancing at Milo's eyes before glancing back at his pizza. He frowned when Milo said he could relate, wondering if something similar had happened to him. He sniffed, nibbling the corner of his pizza before speaking again. "I just don't know what to do," he admitted, his voice still a soft, low whisper.
He didn't, though. Instead he turned to face Milo one more, listening as he ordered the pizzas and then watching as he unwrapped his injured hand and stitched it up. It was disturbing to watch but he couldn't peel his eyes away. Besides, he was thankful he was thinking 'that's disgusting' instead of thinking about Paul in the moment. When Milo commented on how it was gross, he nodded ever so slightly in agreement. "Does that not hurt?" He whispered. His voice was soft and timid, but he was glad he was at least speaking. He didn't want to think about anything or speak about anything regarding himself at the moment. Or ever. When he was with Paul, he wasn't allowed to speak loudly or he'd be punished for raising his voice. Even though he knew he wasn't with Paul anymore, the fear was still present.
When the pizza arrived, he looked at the two boxes in disdain. He really didn't have much of an appetite, but for the sake of being polite, he grabbed the smallest piece in the box and set it on a plate. His movements were slow and he was reminded of the injuries he was hiding beneath his sweater; namely many cuts and bruises and his aching shoulder. He cringed in discomfort as he reached out for it before sinking back into the couch, hoping Milo hadn't noticed. He felt strangely embarrassed and pathetic simply by being there in his presence. He wished he was with Milo under any other circumstances.
The idea of talking really was appealing. He wanted to pour his heart out and have someone understand and know what had happened. He knew it was the healthy thing to do. He just didn't know how to without being a gross, emotional wreck. He didn't even know how he had managed to behave so nonchalantly to begin with. Sure, his body shook and his breathing was abnormal, but he hadn't cried despite that being all he wanted to do. He was sure revealing what had actually happened would push him over the edge. He was not going to cry in front of Milo.
"I'm... I'm okay," he lied in reply, briefly glancing at Milo's eyes before glancing back at his pizza. He frowned when Milo said he could relate, wondering if something similar had happened to him. He sniffed, nibbling the corner of his pizza before speaking again. "I just don't know what to do," he admitted, his voice still a soft, low whisper.
Rachary
Chocolate understands.
Milo let out a silent, bitter chuckle when Jude asked him if his hand wasn't hurting.
If he just knew... This cut was a piece of cake.
"I should...", he said softly, flexing his uninjured hand for a moment.
He didn't feel a thing.
"I've suffered nerve damage in my hands when I was a kid. I still feel things like touching, but they barely perceive temperatures and pain."
He looked down at his pizza once more and took a big bite, glad to find it was without garlic. He loved garlic, but he wasn't too keen on smelling like a dead animal for the entire next day.
Jude still worried him though... He had noticed the way he had flinched in pain, and if his face already looked that beaten up, how was the rest of him then?
He wanted to ask him if everything was okay, but Milo was pretty sure that Jude wouldn't respond truthfully because just the thought of what he had gone through probably still scared him.
He knew that feeling.
But he also knew the feeling of being all alone, with no one to talk to even if he'd wanted to.
He knew the loneliness that often followed experiences like this, because everyone felt insecure how to behave and ended up just staying away in fear to say or do something wrong.
He wouldn't.
When Jude finally admitted that he didn't know what to do, Milo nodded understandingly, carefully placed his hand on the man's uninjured shoulder and gave him the faintest of smiles.
"I know", he said softly.
If he wanted Jude to open up and trust him so he could finally let it all out, Milo realized, he'd need to do the same. Openness and trust only worked when both parties were on the same page.
"Jude", he said gently. "Listen, I know you feel helpless right now, but you know what? You did something incredibly brave tonight. It takes a lot of courage to leave someone you are scared of. No matter what will happen; no one can take that away from you. Tonight you became your own hero. You just haven't realized it yet."
The look in his eyes left no doubt that Milo meant every word and really thought of Jude as someone very brave.
He hoped that telling him this would make Jude ease up a little and allow himself the moment of weakness he needed.
He just hoped it would work...
He didn't want his friend to make the same mistake he had made; going down that path was something he regretted deeply to this day.
"That being said", Milo mumbled "it's okay to not be okay. And it's okay to need help sometimes. No one could go through this alone, at least not in a good way."
He leaned back Shriner the back of the couch, watching the man thoughtfully for a moment.
"What to do, well...Let it out. Let it all out, scream, cry, beat up a pillow. Take some time just for yourself. Let it out... And then let it be. Start over, cut all ties between the two of you. Live. Be whoever you want to be, now it's your chance. The worst is already over, you'll see. And whenever you need a friend, come over right away."
Milo's expression softened noticeably when he put a pack of tissues on the table and locked his warm, hazel eyes to Jude's.
"Just in case. It took me a long time to learn this lesson; bottling your emotions up will make them blow up in your face one day. Trust someone who's been blowing up far too often."
If he just knew... This cut was a piece of cake.
"I should...", he said softly, flexing his uninjured hand for a moment.
He didn't feel a thing.
"I've suffered nerve damage in my hands when I was a kid. I still feel things like touching, but they barely perceive temperatures and pain."
He looked down at his pizza once more and took a big bite, glad to find it was without garlic. He loved garlic, but he wasn't too keen on smelling like a dead animal for the entire next day.
Jude still worried him though... He had noticed the way he had flinched in pain, and if his face already looked that beaten up, how was the rest of him then?
He wanted to ask him if everything was okay, but Milo was pretty sure that Jude wouldn't respond truthfully because just the thought of what he had gone through probably still scared him.
He knew that feeling.
But he also knew the feeling of being all alone, with no one to talk to even if he'd wanted to.
He knew the loneliness that often followed experiences like this, because everyone felt insecure how to behave and ended up just staying away in fear to say or do something wrong.
He wouldn't.
When Jude finally admitted that he didn't know what to do, Milo nodded understandingly, carefully placed his hand on the man's uninjured shoulder and gave him the faintest of smiles.
"I know", he said softly.
If he wanted Jude to open up and trust him so he could finally let it all out, Milo realized, he'd need to do the same. Openness and trust only worked when both parties were on the same page.
"Jude", he said gently. "Listen, I know you feel helpless right now, but you know what? You did something incredibly brave tonight. It takes a lot of courage to leave someone you are scared of. No matter what will happen; no one can take that away from you. Tonight you became your own hero. You just haven't realized it yet."
The look in his eyes left no doubt that Milo meant every word and really thought of Jude as someone very brave.
He hoped that telling him this would make Jude ease up a little and allow himself the moment of weakness he needed.
He just hoped it would work...
He didn't want his friend to make the same mistake he had made; going down that path was something he regretted deeply to this day.
"That being said", Milo mumbled "it's okay to not be okay. And it's okay to need help sometimes. No one could go through this alone, at least not in a good way."
He leaned back Shriner the back of the couch, watching the man thoughtfully for a moment.
"What to do, well...Let it out. Let it all out, scream, cry, beat up a pillow. Take some time just for yourself. Let it out... And then let it be. Start over, cut all ties between the two of you. Live. Be whoever you want to be, now it's your chance. The worst is already over, you'll see. And whenever you need a friend, come over right away."
Milo's expression softened noticeably when he put a pack of tissues on the table and locked his warm, hazel eyes to Jude's.
"Just in case. It took me a long time to learn this lesson; bottling your emotions up will make them blow up in your face one day. Trust someone who's been blowing up far too often."
Rachary
Chocolate understands.
[buddy? You still there?^^"]
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
(I'm so sorry hon! Finals have been kicking my ass! I'm working on a reply right now! < 3)
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
As Milo explained the nerve damage he had in his hands, Jude only gave the smallest of nods to show that he had acknowledged what he said. He had some nerve damage on his leg and could understand what he meant well. The next moment, he glanced away from Milo's hands and turned his body back towards the television, even though nothing was playing. He nibbled on the pizza some more, not even bothering to pay attention to the taste. He hardly wanted to eat, and before he made himself sick by forcing himself to, he placed the slice back on the table.
He sucked in his breath as he did, stuffing his hands in his laps to hide how shaky they were. He didn't want to offend Milo by not eating the pizza, especially after he had been kind enough to order him some. He was afraid Milo might get angry. Paul certainly would have. He avoided looking at Milo, not wanting to face whatever expression the man hand.
When Milo spoke of him being brave for leaving, Jude choked back a sob, making it obvious he wanted to cry even though he didn't want to in front of Milo. He didn't believe he was brave or strong for leaving Paul that night. He had only left because he was genuinely afraid Paul might have killed him that night. If anything, Jude thought it was rather cowardly for him to run instead of fight. Even though Milo seemed sincere and honesty was in his eyes, Jude shook his head in disagreement.
"I... I don't know what to do," he repeated again, wiping his eyes with his sleeve as they began watering. "I don't know what I did to deserve any of it. We were so- so happy," he choked, sobbing and stuttering by the time he had even finished the sentence.
Jude didn't really want to explain everything Paul had done to him to Milo and certainly didn't plan on it. Milo seemed like he truly cared about him, however, so he felt as though he could rant about his utter confusion on the matter; why Paul had turned so abusive without warning. "We were so happy," he said again, though he was crying so much his words were hardly understandable at that point. "I don't understand."
He grabbed a tissue from the table after Milo had set them down, wiping his wet eyes and snotty nose with them. He breathed rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath, simply talking about Paul enough to make him anxious. God, Paul. He was going to be so mad. Jude cringed at the thought. "Paul... Paul is going to be mad," he stuttered, every one of his words forced. "I - I need to go."
He sucked in his breath as he did, stuffing his hands in his laps to hide how shaky they were. He didn't want to offend Milo by not eating the pizza, especially after he had been kind enough to order him some. He was afraid Milo might get angry. Paul certainly would have. He avoided looking at Milo, not wanting to face whatever expression the man hand.
When Milo spoke of him being brave for leaving, Jude choked back a sob, making it obvious he wanted to cry even though he didn't want to in front of Milo. He didn't believe he was brave or strong for leaving Paul that night. He had only left because he was genuinely afraid Paul might have killed him that night. If anything, Jude thought it was rather cowardly for him to run instead of fight. Even though Milo seemed sincere and honesty was in his eyes, Jude shook his head in disagreement.
"I... I don't know what to do," he repeated again, wiping his eyes with his sleeve as they began watering. "I don't know what I did to deserve any of it. We were so- so happy," he choked, sobbing and stuttering by the time he had even finished the sentence.
Jude didn't really want to explain everything Paul had done to him to Milo and certainly didn't plan on it. Milo seemed like he truly cared about him, however, so he felt as though he could rant about his utter confusion on the matter; why Paul had turned so abusive without warning. "We were so happy," he said again, though he was crying so much his words were hardly understandable at that point. "I don't understand."
He grabbed a tissue from the table after Milo had set them down, wiping his wet eyes and snotty nose with them. He breathed rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath, simply talking about Paul enough to make him anxious. God, Paul. He was going to be so mad. Jude cringed at the thought. "Paul... Paul is going to be mad," he stuttered, every one of his words forced. "I - I need to go."
Amare
mother trucker, dude!
(Hey, sorry! The last thing I want to do is bother you, especially after my unplanned mini hiatus, but I was wondering if you were still interested in this?)
Rachary
Chocolate understands.
(tf, I thought I had replied to this! 0.0 I'm definitely still interested, I'll get something up as soon as I can! :'3)
Rachary
Chocolate understands.
Milo's expression was understanding as he stayed silent by Jude's side, partly because he was caught in some of his own, painful memories, partly because he knew that there wasn't anything he could say to make the man feel better.
All that would help was to stay far away from that asshole called Paul, give his injuries, both the physical and emotional ones, time to fade, and a friend by his side to help him through hardship.
And as Jude had come to him, for whatever reason, he felt responsible for being that friend.
God, the man even seemed scared to refuse the pizza, guessing from the way he avoided to even look at him, plus his shaky hands.
If he would have looked up, he would've seen the compassion written in Milo's eyes. He knew that feeling. Honestly, he knew all of them far too well...
And at that moment, Jude's last barrier seemed to break and all the despair, hurt, pain and helplessness drove the tears into his eyes; tears that had probably been held back for many years.
Hoping to give him some sense of security, Milo carefully rested his big hand on Jude's back, not daring to do much more as he didn't want to scare or hurt him.
"I know", he mumbled softly, eyes locked to the floor.
"Jude... I can't tell you why he did what he did. There could be so many things that turned him into what he has become... But what you need to know, and never forget, is that none of it is your fault. Okay?"
However when he talked about having to go, Milo shook his head resolutely and moved to carefully lift Jude's face and look into his eyes.
"Hey, I know you're scared. But going back into that relationship is the worst you can do at this point. You'd get yourself in danger, who knows, one day Paul might lose it completely and accidentally kill you while throwing a fit. What you need to do is stay away from him. Period."
Concerned expression softening a little, he sighed silently.
"Think about it... Even if Paul would ever change his ways- would you ever be able to trust him again? Would you ever not feel threatened? Maybe you'd be able to forgive... But forget? Never."
He leaned back and gave the man a reassuring smile, like a guardian angel promising to never let anything bad happen.
"You should stay here for now. Get rest, get better, allow your wounds to heal a little. I'll make sure Paul won't get to you. Okay?"
All that would help was to stay far away from that asshole called Paul, give his injuries, both the physical and emotional ones, time to fade, and a friend by his side to help him through hardship.
And as Jude had come to him, for whatever reason, he felt responsible for being that friend.
God, the man even seemed scared to refuse the pizza, guessing from the way he avoided to even look at him, plus his shaky hands.
If he would have looked up, he would've seen the compassion written in Milo's eyes. He knew that feeling. Honestly, he knew all of them far too well...
And at that moment, Jude's last barrier seemed to break and all the despair, hurt, pain and helplessness drove the tears into his eyes; tears that had probably been held back for many years.
Hoping to give him some sense of security, Milo carefully rested his big hand on Jude's back, not daring to do much more as he didn't want to scare or hurt him.
"I know", he mumbled softly, eyes locked to the floor.
"Jude... I can't tell you why he did what he did. There could be so many things that turned him into what he has become... But what you need to know, and never forget, is that none of it is your fault. Okay?"
However when he talked about having to go, Milo shook his head resolutely and moved to carefully lift Jude's face and look into his eyes.
"Hey, I know you're scared. But going back into that relationship is the worst you can do at this point. You'd get yourself in danger, who knows, one day Paul might lose it completely and accidentally kill you while throwing a fit. What you need to do is stay away from him. Period."
Concerned expression softening a little, he sighed silently.
"Think about it... Even if Paul would ever change his ways- would you ever be able to trust him again? Would you ever not feel threatened? Maybe you'd be able to forgive... But forget? Never."
He leaned back and gave the man a reassuring smile, like a guardian angel promising to never let anything bad happen.
"You should stay here for now. Get rest, get better, allow your wounds to heal a little. I'll make sure Paul won't get to you. Okay?"
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