tavi anemos || d8

I smile through bleeding gums because pain hurts so damn good when you know when to expect it. "So soon?" That earns another punch, I figured it would. Bruised knuckles send my head back against the wall and I think I've enough time to count the stars which swim in front of my vision. It'd be nice, of course, if I'd the chance to rub them away but somebody had his friends restrain the five foot something fifteen year old before he started kicking the shit outta him. "I thought I'd at least get the chance to call your girlfriend a-" There's a fist in my gut and the words are expelled with the rest of the air from my lungs.

Then I'm falling, struggling to keep my smile and remember how to breathe and that's not as easy as I'd thought it'd be. That was a miscalculation. My limbs have gone limp, completely numb, devoid of feeling and suddenly it's thing one and thing two keeping me upright as he manages to land another blow to my side and perhaps one to the side of my head considering the pain searing across my temple so suddenly.

"Just..." I gasp. They let me fall and I curl around myself and I certainly wasn't supposed to end up looking this pathetic. My prides a little wounded, if I'm being honest. "wanted.... to be friends..." I've never broken a rib before but I'm pretty sure it feels something like this, tight chest and mind-numbing pain. I've gotta stay conscious. I've gotta stay conscious. My eyes are rolling back in my head and I'm cursing myself as I sink into something warm and black and-

"What's going on here?" Gruff voices, I can see white coats through the tears in my eyes and I can feel my body relax as I fully collapse into the dirt. Peacekeepers pull the guys off me, sunlight tinged maroon through dried blood and dirt suddenly bears down upon me. Harsh and unforgiving as the scene playing out in front of me. They've got one in a headlock, the other two are being pushed to the ground and I blink a few times as the peacekeepers double and triple before me though I've a sneaking suspicion twelve of them didn't show up to defend little ol' me.

"T-took my money," I'm wailing best I can, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks - cutting stark paths through the grime laid upon them. "Said they were gonna kill me and they waved some - some - some weapon in my face. I thought only peacekeepers were allowed to have those." A confused pout is made to swallow the smile creeping over swollen cheeks.

"Dirty fuckin' liar!" One of 'em barks from somewhere in the distance and I needn't see him get knocked on his ass, the sound of a weapon hitting skin was satisfying enough.

"It's in his coat pocket sir, I can see it." A peacekeeper helps me sit up, hands gentle as my head spins and I damn near collapse into the white coat. Fuck.

"Just like the kid said!" There's another voice in the distance, not seen nor heard as I press a hand to my throbbing head.

"Well it's not mine I ain't ever seen that in my life!" The poor fella is sputtering, sounding like he's on the verge of tears as they drag him away.

"H-how terrible." I lean my head upon the shoulder of the peacekeeper who'd stayed behind, grateful though reluctant for her help as I'm pulled to my feet. "Caught red handed and he's still trying to get out of it."

"Scum are scum," She's trying to soothe me and I count my lucky stars this isn't one of the white coats who'd kick my ass too, just for having the audacity to get mugged. "Thugs like that just make it harder for us to trust the honest folk. You need help getting home?"

"I think I'll be okay, thanks officer." Putting on my best brave face I force heavy feet into submission, near dragging each leg in front of the other as I start the long trek home. It's a dark one, cold and filled to the brim with hostile eyes that regard me with disdain the minute I drag my sorry ass across its threshold.

"Where the hell were you?!"

"Out." The sofa's empty so I drape myself along its entirety, eyes closed and smiling through the dried blood upon my lips. "By the way did you guys hear? Those guys harassing Eve were arrested for robbery. Talk about dumb luck!"

I sleep then, cause I'm so damn tired and I don't really care what they have to say.

--

I should start my own fan club, really. I'm loved in every perceivable way. A charismatic, confident boy whom oozes charm and though I've been an orphan for as long as I remember my home life has always been pleasant. Cramped, two to a room, in a large group home headed by a greedy couple who revel in receiving our extra rations.

My support system is abundant, filled to the brim with warm smiles and open arms. Overflowing with generous souls willing to accept my every flaw. We're like siblings, my house mates and I, no matter how long anyone stays they are accepted for everything they are. That's just how life is, absolutely rosy. Happiness is yellow and warm and we've vowed to support each other no matter what life has to throw our way and-

It's hard to keep from laughing aloud. Sugary words make my stomach churn; "parents" pretending to be benevolent and a "family" caught up within a mass delusion that we aren't scraps thrown into the gutter and hidden behind four walls because of pity and prejudice. I've told them as much, I think. A thousand times over.

They don't like me much. It's not like I blame them.

Every friend I've ever had was fabricated, won over by words tailor made for their ears and I've grown damn good at this game of pretending. They build up like callouses, lies do, the more you tell the harder it becomes to tell if they are anything of the sort. I've lost myself within my own web and if you asked me whether or not I believe the words which I spit with venom I couldn't say one way or the other. The effort of deciphering my own intentions grew tiring once I realized it doesn't change a thing.

I know how to get what I want, so what does it matter the kind of person I am behind all that? Humans are selfish and I am no exception, observing and taking and doing all I need to just get by. Beliefs are better kept close to your chest, dealt with upon your own time because the minute a smile falters any enemy may catch glimpse of an advantage beneath that mask.

And then they win.

I don't like losing.

Perhaps I'm the prideful sort, they'll never know. Not if I have any say in the matter, at least. What others think of me has never been my main concern. A vulture needs nothing but the corpses of the less fortunate and I've no doubt I'd be eaten alive if I let myself believe I'm anything more than roadkill.

So I fight and I fight and I push them all away.

I'm not scared.

I know it's better that way.

I promise