[14] Trusted With My Life

                                    

                                          
Seth's POV 
                          
~~~
                          
I ran away from the house as fast as I could and until my legs were aching. I was blind from the tears and eventually tripped on the curb, staying on the floor to try compose myself. 
                          
Dean had told me that the only reason he didn't want to start dating was because he didn't want a relationship at all. Turns out he just didn't want a relationship with ME. 
God, I felt so stupid. Of course he didn't want to date me. He was so beautiful. I was so... Seth.
                          
A hand on my shoulder made me jump and I tried to scramble away. Two arms wrapped themselves around my waist and held me in place.
                          
"SETH! Jesus, you're quick for your size..." Dean was stood behind me, heaving and dragging in short, ragged breaths, "Listen, I can explain." 
                          
I felt my eyes sting with tears again as I pulled his hands away from my waist. 
"I-It doesn't matter, Dean... I shouldn't have told you." 
                          
His expression was full of guilt. He raised a hand to my face and soothingly rubbed my cheek with his thumb.
"No, Seth. I'm really glad you told me... I've just been a massive dick. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't Roman's fault. It was me, and I'm so fucking sorry."
                          
I stared at the floor, feeling my skin heat up underneath his touch. I first realised he was different to everybody else when he wrapped an arm around my shoulder a week after we met. It was like I could still feel it days after it happened.
I blushed darkly at the memory and tries to shake it off.
                          
"Seth?" Dean was looking at me, concerned.
                          
"Huh?" I blinked a couple of times and focused my eyes on his lips. 
I knew I could never tell my family. They were so religious and I'd endured hours of homophobic slurs and remarks being thrown about the house at the expense of others. They'd chuck me out for sure if they found out.
                          
When I grounded myself, I almost sub-consciously pushed myself towards Dean. I cupped his face in my hands and pressed my mouth against his roughly. 
He seemed taken aback. Both of his hands jumped to my waist as he held me in place, squeezing lightly. 
                          
I felt all of my blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy. I grasped onto Dean to steady myself. 
                          
This time was different to the first time we'd kissed an hour ago. I felt in charge and confident. It was unusual.
                          
I was consumed by the adrenaline pulsing through my veins, that I didn't even register the extra pair of hands grasping at my shirt. My eyes shot open.
Roman was inches away from my face, looking up at me. 
                          
Up at me?
                          
I glanced down. My feet dangled about a foot off the ground as Roman held me up in the air by two fistfuls of my shirt. His expression made my heart jump to my mouth. 
The corners of his mouth were pulled down into a scowl and his eyes cut straight through me.
                          
"What the fuck are you doing?!" His voice gradually grew in volume and I flinched as he spat up at me. Dean was pulling desperately at his arms, but to no avail. Roman was much bigger than both of us.
                          
"Jesus fucking Christ, Roman! Put him down! He's terrified, look at him!" Dean pleaded, trying to push himself in between us.
                          
Roman continued to glare at me, showing no signs of calming down. I started trembling in his grasp, weakly holding onto his balled fists to try to pull myself up and stop the collar of my shirt digging into the back of my neck.
                          
He took a long, snarling breath and quite literally threw me down onto the floor. I stumbled back and tripped, hitting the back of my head on the pavement, yelping and quickly raising a hand to rub the shooting pain.
                          
When I opened my eyes again, Roman was staring down his nose at me. 
                          
"R-Roman..." My voice cracked when I tried to speak. I looked up at him in confusion and in fear. He'd never done anything like this.
                          
I felt my throat tighten as a familiar feeling washed over me.



                          
"Ha, ha! What are you gonna do about it, faggot?" 
                          
I grasped around blindly for my glasses on the floor. I let out a loud cry when a strong foot came crashing down onto my hand, soon followed by an equally loud crunch and the feeling of my broken glasses being thrown against my arm.
                          
"L-Leave me alone, Finn!" I swallowed hard, surprising myself with my confidence. A booming laughter made me jump.
                          
"What the fuck did you just say?" His words were followed by a solid kick to my stomach. I groaned and rolled away, clutching helplessly at the dull pain.
 "Never, talk to me like that- in fact, never talk to me at all. God knows what's wrong with you but I don't want to find out if it's contagious." 
                          
My eyes stung with tears as I tried to block out his words, something I'd become accustomed to in recent months. 
When I glanced back up at the infamous Finn Balor, two of his friends (or co-workers) had appeared at his side and were laughing equally as hard at my state.
                          
Finn's face was a mixture of disgust, anger and sadistic pleasure as he stared down his nose at me writhing in pain on the ground before him.





                          
I dragged myself back to reality and looked back up at Roman, who's expression hadn't faltered. By instinct from similar situations, I dragged myself to my feet and set off running in the opposite direction.
I'd been in that position enough times to know what happens if you stick around. 
                          
Tears poured down my cheeks as I ran away from him. The last person I'd have thought to do that to me. The only person who'd protected me from them. The only person I'd have previously trusted with my life.