Imogen was so ready to finally get Hedwig out of her house for a few days. Since having this owl she was so confused on why they even decided to steal a nocturnal animal in the first place, or why they stole one to begin with. Throughout this whole week, or two weeks she had been tempted to just…
Blaine hadn’t done much yesterday to say the least, and that sure as hell didn’t differ in any way with today as well. He had stayed in his bed since he’d practically fell into it last night. He lay there, curled up in the fetal position, with his arms tugging gently at his knees, pulling them as close to his chest as possible. His back still ached, along with his stomach and rib cage – which was again, showing one of the bones as it stuck out underneath his colourful, bruised skin. But, despite all of that, it was getting better, he was getting better, or so he brought himself to believe. Wasn’t that what could happen though? Where you believed in something so badly that eventually that lie soon became the truth? So what if it was fabricated, the new truth left Blaine with hope. That was a far better feeling than what his dad had given him, that was for sure. So, even if it was all one big facade, it was better than nothing.
He wasn’t planning on moving from his comfort zone today, as his bed was finally proving to be one of the most comfortable places to be, but he knew he had to eventually, considering he hadn’t moved in over three days. Sure he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, but other than that, he hadn’t done anything else, mostly because even getting up to pee was harder than anything he’d done in his life. His muscles would seize up, and by the time he even managed to roll out of bed, he’d whimper in pain, while his rib dug against the inner part of his skin. So, with the idea of being in immense pain by the time he could even decide to walk downstairs and risk another encounter with his father, Blaine figured that the basic necessities such as food and water weren’t important, and neither would they be until he was capable of walking without any injury, or at least something less than what he had now.
Three days, three glorious days of being free of abuse, and yet, it still felt so new. The swelling had subsided, and the bruising and burning, no matter how slowly, were going away. But, the emotional pain, it was even more prominent now, and it was like his heart was wide open, being cut every which way by his father’s words. Blaine knew that if he ever wanted to get out of that bed too, he would not only have to be in a better physical condition, but a better mental state as well. If he walked right out into the hallway and broke down when his dad just laid eyes on him, there was no doubt in his mind that that awful man would strike him again, over and over, until maybe what Blaine wanted would happen - he’d literally beat the gay out of his son, well, that and the fact that he’d literally kill his son - his own flesh and blood. Yeah, that would take the homosexual away from him - after all, you can’t have a sexual preference if you’re dead.
Sighing, Blaine could see and feel the warm sunlight shining onto his face, behind closed eyes as he let out a groan and clenched his eyelids tighter. The light had never bugged him before, but now, in this setting, with everything going on, it was argumentatively the most annoying thing in the room. He rolled onto his side unconsciously, only to have it come accompanied with a sharp pain that shot through his chest and into his back. “Fuc-” Blaine was interrupted when he heard the doorbell ringing, and normally he would have ignored it, but it was then that he quickly remembered that Imogen was supposed to be coming over with he owl.
That stupid owl- Blaine, if he were actually capable of it, would have shaken his head, as he was clearly still in shock that the two had actually gotten an owl from the zoo, and had kept it for their own. Taking care of a pet was one thing - like you’d know. You’re not even there for Chance. But, an owl, that was something new and actually quite intimidating in some sense. Despite that though, the two had to own up to their decisions, and so that meant Blaine had to slowly pry himself from the mattress, and drag his limp, sore body over to the door, and down the hallway, all the way over to the stairs.
Blaine felt like it was ages until he finally reached the front door, and if it weren’t for him catching his reflection in the mirror, he wouldn’t have taken that much longer. The cut that had been just under his eye was covered in makeup, which luckily hadn’t been washed off by the tears that had seemed to be non stop once the sun set, and his dad left for ‘work.’ His shirt, though messy, covered up every inch of his injuries, and his messy hair could be written off as him not being able to gel it. It was perfect, so why did he feel like his plan was going to fail miserably?
Practicing his smile a few times in the mirror, he tried to perfect what he knew would be one of the biggest lies in the history of lying, though he managed to have one come across as pretty decent, so he went with it, and opened the door. “Imogen, hey.” Blaine kept his voice small, and quiet, and his words limited. His throat burned from the lack of fluid, and his head throbbed from both not eating, and the fact that he hadn’t heard anything in over three days. Smiling weakly, Blaine backed away from the door to let Imogen in, wincing silently, and secretly as he motioned for her to come in with the owl, a once friendly gesture now proving to be the one thing causing him the most pain. “Come on in.”