Tell Me I'm A Bad, Bad Man

Week Later
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“Fuck” I groan. My head is throbbing. I’m totally not cut out for this emotional breakdown shit. I look over and see baby boy in the corner on a stool reading a book.
“Hey, princess.” I call out, my voice coming out raw and raspy from all the screaming. I sound like fucking death.
He looks up, startled; eyes scanning around the room in confusion before they settle on me.
“Yes you. Why don’t you come over here? I’m super lonely all by myself. Hey, do you happen to know what time it is?”
He hesitates before getting out of his stool and sitting in the seat next to my bed, angled towards me. His shoulder length black hair drapes in front of his eyes as he stares a hole into his lap.
“t-t-ten thirty, s-sir” He mumbles, continuing to stare at his lap.
“Look at me. I don’t bite. Well, unless you want me to.” I wink at him when he meets my gaze. His features are soft; almost pretty, his small hazel eyes looking straight at mine.
He has a small, upturned nose kinda like a pixie. I take this moment to fully appreciate how beautiful the boy before me is. He’s young too, can’t be older than 21.
“Hey gorgeous, how old are you?” I ask him. He bites his lip gently and looks back down again; his hair falling in front of his eyes.
“T-Twenty, S-sir.” He whispers, a gentle blush overtaking his creamy pale cheeks. God, he’s perfect. Someone like him doesn’t belong in a place like this. Certainly not here, with me, blushing at the things I say while I stare at him like a piece of prized meat. He makes my blood run hot and my body flood with want.
Maybe I’ve been here too long.
Maybe I’m just growing so lonely that the nearest twink makes me turn into an animal in heat. Or maybe it’s him. His innocence; that nervousness as he walks through the halls, swiftly following behind Officer Gates.
I can’t help myself. I reach up and brush the hair from his face and tuck it behind his ears. He looks up at me through his long lashes, they flutter against his cheeks as a blush rapidly flushes over his cheeks.
“s-s-sir”
“Yes.” I look into his warm eyes. Pools of gold and honey, yet there’s a small flame behind them. Invisible unless you know what you’re looking for. God, what is this boy doing to me?

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I wake up slowly; my eyes blinking slowly under the harsh light of the infirmary. “Iero! You’re up and out today!” I feel someone to my right uncuffing my hand which was once chained to the metal bars of the bed. My other hand is firmly wrapped in bandages, broken in four places. Hey, at least they’ll hesitate before sending me back to that place.
The warm feeling soon leaves me though as I realise it’s not because they have any semblance of care for me, rather that it costs them money to keep me in this goddamn place and that’s money they’d rather spend on fucking coffee and donuts.
I stuff my pack of cigarettes in my pocket and lift my body up to sit at the side of the bed; willing myself to move further.
“Gave us a right scare there you did, Iero. Nurse Crane went nuts trying to get you fixed. I’ve seen them use less to tranquilize a goddamn horse.” Of course, Officer Gates rambling along in his own amusement, not giving a shit about how my bones feel like they’ve been pulled outta my skin. Fuckers. All of them.
“In the rudest way possible, would you kindly fuck off. I feel like death.” I shoot him a glare and he shuts up pretty fucking quickly. Yeah. That’s right.
“Come on. Up. Everyone’s in the cafeteria.”
Oh Joy.

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“Hey, Iero. Missed you back here. It’s nowhere near as entertaining when you’re gone. Don’t fucking get your ass kicked to solitary again dude.”
Ah, Bob Bryar. He was just about the closest thing I had to a friend in this shithole. Except in this place, you don't make friends. He sometimes sells me cigarettes and I make sure no one starts shit on him. Yeah sure, he’s a big guy and he could easily take anyone down himself. He’s just not a conflict person. He got done for arson. Never told anyone why though. Figured it was his deal and we left it at that.
“Yeah well they won’t be sending me back there again, that’s for sure.”
“Figured. No one comes back from solitary looking more injured than when they went in.”
“Fuck off.”
He chuckles to himself and walks back over to the lunch queue, making his way for a second course of whatever the fuck is on the shelves today. I swear half the time that shit is alive and growing things. How he eats it amazes me.

Notes

Hey beans! Again, didn't check through this one because I'm consistently lazy. This chapter is sorta just a filler for some more stuff that's gonna happen. Peace and love!

Songs while writing:
Rebel Girl- Bikini Kill
Just A Girl- No Doubt
Doll Parts- Hole
Heroes- David Bowie
Man Who Stole the World- Nirvana
Where Is My Mind?- Pixies