Kosei, an eighteen year old boy living with his violently homophobic mother, ends up in jail after attempting to strangle his bully to death. The story follows him as he enters a tumultuous relationship after being bailed out by a vampire convinced the two are bound by fate. The story explores themes of nature versus nurture, and deals with the question of "am I hated because I'm broken, or am I broken because I'm hated?" Essentially, what if Twilight was about a gay middle aged vampire and a pyromaniac sadomasochistic teenager.
he couldn’t remember what the doctor had called it. he could remember a lot of other things, he could remember the smell of blood and the screams of the person under him. the slurs hurled his way, the way his scalp stung when he was thrown across the room. the ache in his shoulder. the tear of breath from his body as the foot collided with his stomach, the concussion, the blood from his head, his bloody hands.
drip.
drip.
dripdrip.
he remembered how everything hurt.
footsteps were what saved him from the endless dripdripdripdripdrip of the leaky pipe. footsteps, the cell door opening, someone roughly pulling him to his feet. the handcuffs around his wrists were snapped off. he looked up at his savior.
“what’s your name, kid?”
cold, steely blue eyes met dull, tired brown ones. short grey hair versus messy black (it was longer before they cut it). his savior was an older man, a man with pale skin and a terrifyingly cold gaze.
thinking thoughts that would get him beat against the wall of the boy’s bathroom, he answered.
“kosei.”
he woke up cold. and alone. his neck was bandaged again, and there was a lamp on in the otherwise dark room. a digital clock in the corner of a nightstand told him it was close to 3 am. he hadn’t noticed it before.
his entire body ached from all the fear and tension. he slipped out of the bed and stood up on his trembling legs. the room was still. and silent.
he breathed out, softly. the air was cold. he shivered, wandering circles around the bed. it was a fucking nice bed, too, and now his blood was all over the sheets. warm blood now cold. oh, he felt so sick. he turned away from the bed.
his hands were shaking more than his legs. his skin was cold as the air around him. his stomach swirled.
where the fuck is the bathroom? he thought. i’m going to hurl.
he threw open the first door he saw. it wasn’t a bathroom. he fell to his knees as his body violently expelled what little he had in his stomach. it was mostly yellow acid.
tears burned his eyes as he heaved. he was shaking so damn badly now. he crawled over the stomach acid spilled on the floor, not caring if it got on him. the walls felt so tall and the light was so low. he cried as he crawled.
he didn’t know where he was. or where he was going. get out, he thought, oh my god, get out. he’d take going to jail over this. he’d live with his mom forever. he’d stop setting fires, he’d never get into fights again, he’d date a girl, but oh god, he had to get out of here.