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His mother loves him so much he probably can’t imagine anyone hurting him without her ripping their throats out.
“So we just do nothing?”
Santiago, always the protector of the group.
“Yes. Please.”
They stay silent for what seems like forever before Florian finally speaks up once again, “We need to tend to your wounds. Some are red and festering.”
My head snaps up, our eyes meeting, and I swallow past the lump in my throat.
From that fateful day when Wayne hit me for the first time, no one but myself treated my wounds, and half of them I couldn’t reach.
Alone in my pain and left to deal with the consequences of my stepfather’s cruelty.
“You don’t have to. They’ll heal on their own.”
Remi’s eyes flash with fury while Santiago rolls his lips. Florian ignores my words, fishing inside the basket and grabbing the first aid kit.
We always take it with us whenever we have picnics because we often fall and injure ourselves.
Florian flips it open, while Santiago grabs the antiseptic and pours it on the cotton pad. “Remi, hold the shirt.” He does as he’s asked, and I wince when Santiago presses the pad into my bruises, the skin still raw. “Lo siento, amigo,” he whispers, and he sighs heavily.
Remi leans closer and blows on my skin as our friend continues to apply the medicine all over my back, I jerk when Florian places his palms above mine, gripping them hard, and our gazes collide once again. I see so much compassion in them, and my stomach flips while my heart aches in a weird way.
To my shock, tears stream down my face. The awful tears that mean nothing in my mansion, for the monster becomes even more violent when I display them.
Florian wipes away my tears with his knuckles while still holding my hand tight as if pouring strength into me. I hiss when Santiago puts ointment on next as Remi continues to ease the sting, trying to make it easier for me. “It’s okay, Octavius,” Florian whispers. “It’s okay. You can cry here.”
Remi pats my shoulder. “Don’t hide your pain from us.”
“Your pain is ours too.” Santiago picks up a bandage, covering up a big wound on my back that’s been periodically bleeding and staining my clothes. “You’re not alone.”
“You’re one of us. No matter what happens, you have us,” Florian finishes as tears fall and fall because I can’t stop them.
For the rest of the day, we sit on the blanket, watching the sunset, eating and laughing, while the guys periodically give me huge hugs, reassuring me with their affection.
And Florian…
Continues to hold my hand.
On that day, the dynamic of our friendship forever changed.
We became an inseparable unit, ready to face the world if it meant protecting our own, a deep bond that survived any hideous thing life threw our way.
We shared our happiness and losses, for what was theirs was mine and mine was theirs.
However, Remi and I weren’t meant to be the best of friends who supported each other no matter the screwups.
Because we both grew up in shitty households with awful parents who cared only about themselves and made us live in our own personal hell. We had no idea how to give or show love without the fear of rejection.
Never wanted to burden anyone with our nightmares, forever destined to stay lonely in our sorrows, and harboring it in our hearts as no one deserved to carry our heavy weight.
Santiago and Florian had a mind of their own. They made a decision that affected us all when they picked us as their best friends, for they had love in abundance and wanted to share it with us.
Florian became my truest friend, staying by my side no matter what and helping me survive hell on a daily basis, never letting go of my hand. I tried everything to push him away, but he never listened, powering through all my defenses until I had no strength left in me to fight him.
A friendship that brought him nothing except trouble and headaches, yet it was a friendship that saved me and set me free.
