“My master was hurting me, so I ran away, and now the are trying to find me,” Rose said, breaking into sobs towards the end as he trembled harshly and clung to the boy’s jacket sleeve. He was obviously in hysterics, not able to think straight enough.
He pulled the boy close to him. "Okay, okay." He muttered, trying to figure out what to do. "What's your name?"
“Rose..” He answered after a moment, leaning against the other boy’s side as he continued to shake. He reached up to whipe his eyes with one hand as well, sniffling softly.
"Do you need me to call the police?" He asked gently, following the path to his house in case. "They might be able to help."
“They’ll kill the police,” Rose said, his voice close to a whimper. He looked very pitiful, and he felt like it too. His knees and elbows stung from having tripped once or twice and skinning them. His felt light headed from having run so far without stopping, but there was nothing else he could have done.
He nodded. "Okay. Do you have any family you could stay with?"
“Family?” Rose repeated, sniffling softly as he struggled to remember what that meant. Master? No, he’s not family, he thought. “I don’t think so,” he murmured before biting softly at his lower lip.
"Any Friends?" He asked, starting to run out of ideas. Honestly, he was close to taking him in himself.
“Master wouldn’t let me have friends,” Rose squeaked out. He would get punished if he was caught talking to people about anything. A shiver ran through his body as he continued to grip onto the other’s sleeve.
"Alright, we're gonna go to my house then." He said, gently leading him there.
Rose gave a meek nod, his grip tightening on the others jacket. Tears were still dripping down his pale cheeks, but he was crying much quieter now simply out of fear that he would be heard and found. He could trust this male, couldn’t he? If the male wanted to turn him in, he probably already would have.
"Come one, we'll get there soon." He whispered, turning a corner
Rose simply nodded again as he walked with the other boy. “Do you have a name?” He squeaked out. It was only fair, he thought, that he asked, considering he told the other his own name.
"Allen." He said, walking up the walk to his house. "We're here." He smiled as he unlocked the door.
Rose bit as his lower lip as he looked at the front door. He then looked over his shoulder, but didn’t see the man who had been chasing him anywhere in sight. That seemed to calm him down slightly as they went inside.
He lead him to the living room, kicking the door closed behind him. "Wait here." He said, going upstairs and digging through his closet. Where was that nailed bat his brother got him a joke when he first moved in? If there was anytime he would use it, if that man came would be know.
Rose looked around, not saying anything when Allen left. He ran a hand through his messy, tangled white hair. The living room was nice, just a bit smaller than the one at his master’s house. He sank down to a crisscross position, sitting on the floor instead of the furniture.
He finally managed to dig it out, bringing it downstairs and placing it by the base of the stairs. He walked back into the living room, sitting on the small couch. "Any particular reason you're on the floor?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Master doesn’t let me sit on the furniture..” Rose responded like it was a normal answer. He looked up at Allen as he spoke, the skin around his eyes a bit red from crying, and his cheeks were flushed as well.
He pat the spot next to him. "Come on, you're not with 'Master' anymore." He said
Rose seemed hesitant, a nervous glint in his eyes. He eventually gave a small nod, crawling to his feet to move and sit on the couch next to Allen. “Thank you,” He said quietly.
He nodded. "So, wanna watch tv or something?"
“TV?” Rose asked, frowning with confusion as he looked at Allen. He brought his legs up to his chest, arms wrapping around them as he rested his chin onto his knees.
"Yeah. Y'know, television?" He said, tilting his head to the side.
“I don’t know…” Rose said, a frown now forming onto his pouty lips. “Should I know?” He asked, nervous that he had said the wrong thing.