He's warm, so warm he's like walking into a heated home after walking a few blocks in the peak of winter. Tom's safe like a radiator, keeping you from getting frostbite. His arms engulf you and your head is pressed against his chest allowing you to hear his heartbeat. Your eyes closed and the two of you stood in Tom's doorway. His hand came up and rubbed your back with a gentle grace, careful not to put too much pressure on you. You're so delicate against him.

It's an odd sensation for him, to think you're delicate. You show that you're anything but. You lay out guys twice the size of you without even blinking. But, right now, in the moment with only the sound of rain echoing through the apartment, you're fragile like fine lace and Tom would do anything to preserve you. To protect you in every way, from anything he could. He's crazy about you and he doesn't even know why.

You pick your head up, looking up to him before pressing your forehead against his chest. "C'mon," Tom starts. "Why don't we talk?" Tom asks and you look back to him, nodding just once.

Tom finds a sense of security in the lack of gloss in your eyes and the singular nod. He'd guessed you're willing to talk and maybe that's all you need, an outsider to listen to you. Sometimes, it's easier to tell people who aren't close to someone things rather than people someone is close to. The fear of being judged isn't as present, the fear of being rejected can be better ignored, outsiders tend to have an unbiased opinion. Sometimes, it's just easier to speak and Tom hopes that this is the case.

You unwrap your arms from Tom and his soon follow, allowing you to start your walk into his bedroom. Tom's room is tidy, not even an article of clothing on the floor. Just like the kitchen and living room, windows, floor to ceiling, go across the furthest part of his room. Raindrops cascade down the windows reflecting from the city lights outside. A desk sits against the wall beside the windows, a nice place for good light. A decent sized closest is beside the black desk and his bed sits right in the middle and a black dresser matching the desk stands against the wall opposite the windows. His room is just...pleasing.

You take a few steps inside, standing in front of the windows and beside the desk. "Do you normally sleep with your curtains open?" You ask, not looking behind you while Tom shuts the door.

"No," He scoffs with a gentle laugh. "Couldn't sleep." Tom walks up to the side of you, following your gaze. "So..." Tom takes a breath and glances to you. "Are you-"

"I don't wanna talk 'bout it." You cut him off, shaking your head.

He feels safe but safe can be dangerous and you already know you're messing with fire when it comes to him. You know more of what he's involved with than he does. But, you do find the feeling eating at you, eating at you to just say something and based on the look on his face earlier that day when you called him out about Arthur, Tom is good at keeping secrets. He's good at keeping the ones that matter so you could talk to him and deep down you know that but your walls are set fifteen feet in the air and a mote with raging crocodiles surrounds it. It's safe to stay quiet. The quieter you are, the less likely you'll get hurt, even if it's someone you feel safe with.

"Okay," Tom nods in understanding. "I won't make you." He looks back to you and gives you a timid smile.

He had hope you'd talk to him but not very much. The way he sees it, it's just one step at a time and sometimes it takes time. If he pushes, you won't open up at all so he can respect your boundaries. Asking if you're okay and not making you talk if you don't want to, even when his heart is aching throughout his bones for you, that's a part of it. You talk on your own time and Tom'll be there to listen.

"Thanks." You return the smile before looking down to the top of the desk.

Tom's words caught you off guard but in the best way. You've never had someone just be okay with you not talking. Of course, you'd had people who simply ask if you're alright and when you say 'always', they drop it. If you say you don't want to talk about it, they shrug and move on because at the end of the day, if it's not fucking tragic, people don't care. If it doesn't concern them, they don't care so they always drop it without a second glance. But, Tom, it's different. And you know that because he does understand. To be working with Arthur, he has to understand what it's like to not want to talk about what happened. It's just how it is but nonetheless, you find yourself surprised he just understood and relieved that you aren't going to need to lie or shut down, you can breathe.

White paper with graphite stains and nearly perfectly drawn lines lay on the desk, slightly scattered. There's a desk lap perfectly angled over one of the pieces of paper and a number 2 pencil sits on the right side of the smudged paper. It takes you a minute of looking in the dull lighting to figure out exactly what he's been drawing.

You tap the desk with the pads of your fingers. "You design furniture?" You ask as you get a better look at the work that's laid out.

"You're gonna think it's lame." Tom chortles, walking beside you and looking over his work, slight embarrassment showing on his cheeks.

"Only if you don't do anything with it." You retort with the role of your eyes.

A sense of pride swells in Tom's chest as he runs a hand through his hair and a smile splits his face. "Maybe."

No one has ever said anything close to that. But, then again, Tom doesn't tell very many people about his hobby. Harrison and his family are mainly the only ones who know. It's one of the things he likes to keep to himself.

You look up to him and shake your head. "Yeah, I get it." You bite your lip before looking back down at his work. Tom's not the only one who keeps his hobby under wraps.

Silence consumes the room as you continue to look over what Tom has on his desk. It's all things between desks, chairs, couches, everything anyone can use to furnish a home. And you hope he does something with it because if he does, he could be extraordinary. More extraordinary than he already is. Everyone becomes so much more when they can express themselves in something they thoroughly enjoy and while Tom might have thought you missed the tinting of his cheeks, you didn't. He's proud of his work and he should be. And Tom should show it off to the world, be unstoppable at something he loves. Be him, all of him.

Lightning and thunder rip through the sky, pulling your attention back to the windows. You step forward a little bit so you can see over the edge where the windows stop. A few cars pass by, nothing out of the ordinary, but your heart starts to speed up.

"Ya know," You chuckle to yourself. "I don't even like heights."

Tom's brows furrow at the random comment. "Ya? Why d'you keep standing in front of the windows then?" He moves beside you and looks down to you.

You look back to him and your heart jumps to your throat with a sense of anxiety but not necessarily the bad kind. A smirk comes to your mouth as your eyes meet his. "The beauty outweighs the fear."

Tom's brows raise and he matches the smirk. "Anything else outweigh fear?" Tom challenges while his heart starts to race in his chest.

"Stupidity." You chortle.

Tom laughs, nodding his head. "Yeah, true." His laugh subsides as his eyes glance from your lips to your eyes. "What else?" His eyes seem to darken with lust, the smile dropping as if knowing exactly what you were thinking.

You lick your lips and your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. "Everything." You mutter before closing the small distance between you, cupping his face, and bringing your lips to his.

Tom's hands go right to your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you flush against him. You deepen the kiss as your hands move to his neck, lightly grabbing at the hair of the base of his neck. Tom lets out the softest groan while he pushes you forward so you're just in front of the window but not touching the glass. He reaches over and grabs the string to shut the blinds. With the sound of them closing, you can't help but laugh against Tom's lips.

"Like some privacy." Tom mumbles against you, reaching to close the other set of blinds.

"Not complaining." You whisper and your voice is drenched with lust.

A smirk crosses your face as you grab the collar of Tom's shirt and twist the two of you around so his back is towards the window and you can reach the final set of blinds. Tom chuckles before pushing you forward until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and the two of you collapse, Tom catching himself with an arm. You start shimmying up the bed, Tom following while your lips barely disconnect. Once your head reaches the pillows, you're quick to start tugging at the hem of Tom's shirt.

He pauses for a second. Only a second but you see it. "You okay?" You ask. "We don't have to."

Tom shakes his head and there's a playful smiling dancing onto his face. "No, it's fine." Tom leans up, straddling your legs and tugs his shirt over his head.

"Christ." You mutter, taking in his perfectly toned torso.

You've seen him from a distance but up close, that was another story. Of course, you find his abs attractive, jaw-dropping even, but there's more to that than just appearance. He had to and still has to work to keep up with them. He has to eat right, hit the gym more than usual, constantly keep himself in check just to maintain the toned muscle. That's sexy.

Tom grips the hem of your hoodie and shirt as you come up. In a quick movement, he's able to get both articles of clothing from you, leaving your torso bare. You lay back down and Tom gets a look at your stomach and ribs, an up-close look rather than far away like in the basement of the club. Bruises liter your skin just like his but there's a scar right above your hip, not large and definitely old but there. None of it phases him with him being used to seeing injuries, with him knowing bits about you. He'd be surprised if you have didn't more than one scar. So, he focuses his attention on breasts and then your collarbones, moving up to your neck and then your face.

"Christ." Tom mimics, lips gracing yours.

"Gonna do something about it, Pretty Boy?" You giggle, fingers running down Tom's sides.

Tom licks his lips with a huff and a smirk. His brows wiggle before he wraps an arm around you and quickly flips you both over, a squeak barely escaping your mouth before Tom's hand covers your lips.

"Sh, you'll wake up Haz." Tom chuckles.

You can feel a rush of heat go to your center with Tom's mouth on yours and the thought of having to be quiet. There's always something about the thrill of possibly being caught that turns you on.

"I'll try." You mumble against his hand before kissing it.

Tom removed his hand and you bent down to press a deep kiss to his lips, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. A whimper came from Tom as you slowly pulled away. You made your way from his jawline to his collarbones pressing pecks and slow open-mouthed kisses. You continued your journey down his stomach and right above the band of his sweatpants that were now straining against his hard member.

You tug his pants and boxer briefs down with the help of Tom lifting his hips. His cock springs up and you waste no time in closing your hand around it, pumping him soft and slow at first but quickly speeding up. Tom groans and a knot starts forming in his stomach.

"God." Tom growls, hands gripping his sheets.

"That's not at all." You whisper with a wink before moving your hand and licking a stripe up the underside of his cock.

"Fuck." Tom moans almost a little too loud.

You snicker, your chest filling with pride, before guiding him into your mouth. You take in as far as you can and Tom throws his head back into the pillow, hips involuntarily bucking up to meet your mouth. You start bobbing your head, swirling your tongue around his head while Tom just starts moaning under you. His hands come to your hair, gripping not too hard while he looks down to you.

The sight of you sucking him off is almost enough for him to come right then but he's determined to hold off. Your hair is already a mess between his fingers but you're fucking gorgeous right there.

Tom's cock starts to twitch and he knows he's close and you do, too but you don't stop, not until Tom tugs at your hair. You release him with a pop and devilish smirk.

"Fuck, you're amazing." Tom mutters, pulling you up to him.

"Hmm, I know." You remark, your lips meeting his in a hot kiss.

Tom laughs and shakes his head and his heart just beats for you. Of course, his heart is pounding and his chest is heaving, his head is already in a state of bliss but it's more than that. You're sarcastic and confident even in this setting, you've got your sense of humor and self-awareness even though you've got a bruise covering your entire neck from being choked. You're unlike anyone else and Tom's heart just wants you, wants you like this, and wants the three in the morning conversations you'd never tell anyone else.

One of Tom's hands goes back to your hair pulling your mouth to his and keeping your head there while his other hand travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, quickly slipping inside. His fingers trail over your clothed heat and you gasp into his mouth, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

"Hmm," Tom hums against your lips, eyes looking up at your. "Already soaked, huh?"

"What're you gonna do about it, Holland?" You challenge with a lustful quiver in your voice.

Tom's eyes darken and he doesn't even answer. He flips both of you over so he's on top. A quick but deep kiss is pressed to your mouth before Tom works on pulling your bottoms off, tossing them to the floor. He hovers over you and his hand slides between your legs. Tom teases your slit but only for a few seconds before his thumb is working rough circles on your clit.

"Ohh," You moan quietly, eyes shut as your head spins and the knot in your stomach grows.

A cocky smile comes to Tom's face while he starts placing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones. He works down your chest and to one of your breasts. He kisses around your nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking. He looks to you through his lashes and your mouth is slightly parted, chest completely heaving. You bring a hand to Tom's hair as he inserts a finger to your center.

"Fuck's sake, Tom. Just fuck me." You say and you're almost begging. Tom just hums, speeding up movements and inserting another finger. Your breath becomes labored and you see stars as you can feel your high start to come. "T-tom," You moan. "Please."

A satisfied grin is on Tom's face as he removes his hand and mouth to look at you. There's a few beads of sweat on your forehead and your eyes are completely consumed with lust and need. Tom kisses your cheek and reaches into his nightstand for a condom. He tears it open and carefully rolls it onto himself but before he can make a move, you move your hands to his shoulders and roll you both over, allowing you to be on top.

You look down to him and it should be simple. You've had sex plenty of times. It's nothing new but you're smart enough to know that Tom's going to be different. He's going to be different because he's dangerous and he cares. Caring gets people hurt and Tom is going to get himself hurt while hurting other people.

Tom is like gasoline. He can be lethal if mistreated but also incredibly useful when treated right, when treated with respect and you're like a match. You're helpful in all sorts of situations. Some serious, others not so much. But you're very useful and just like matches, you're taken for granted until you're gone or all used up. And what happens when gasoline and matches meet? Devastation. You and Tom, you're going to be a forest fire.

With your own lust and want clouding your thoughts, you smile down to Tom and lines his member up with your core, sinking down on him. Your hands are planted on his chest andmTom's are on your hips, the two of you not moving and allowing you to adjust for a moment. And once you are, you start riding him.

Minutes pass and you're bouncing is becoming weaker and sloppy, your moans are growing louder with Tom's until he pulls you down to his chest.

"Sh, we're gonna wake Harrison." Tom whispers into your ear but his voice is airy yet thick.

"Got it." You mutter against his neck. "Quiet." You say.

Tom plants his feet on the bed and starts thrusting into you. The new angle sends a new and satisfying sensation all through your body. You have to bite down on Tom's shoulder to conceal your moans. The coil in your stomach is already ready to snap and you can feel Tom growing closer. He's burying his face in your shoulder, trying to swallow his own grunts and moans while his thrusts are becoming messy.

"Close." You moan as your head starts spinning.

"Fuck." Tom moans lowly as he hits his high and with the stuttering of his hips against yours, you follow right after.

You heave with Tom as his arms wrap around you. He kisses your shoulder, soothing the skin he'd bitten down on. You sit up and you can't help but smile at the boy beneath you. His hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead and there's a blush creeping onto his face. A thin layer of sweat covers his torso and there's something beautiful about him in that moment. Or maybe it's just the post-sex talking but nonetheless, you smile and nod, kissing him quickly before getting off of him.

"That was-"

"Yeah." You cut him off.

"Wow." Tom says in a breath, turning his head to look at you.

"Mhm," You hum, cheeks aching from smiling. "Well," You bite your lip. "I'ma go to the bathroom." You lightly pat his chest before getting up.

You quickly find your clothes and toss them on before heading to the bathroom. Tom takes care of the condom before putting his clothes back on and taking a breather. He's in a state of lust and disbelief and a little bit of confusion. He went from hugging you because you were upset to having sex and he doesn't even know how it happened. He doesn't know what the next day is going to bring because he never knows what you're thinking. So, instead of letting himself worry about what the morning will bring, he lets himself have the night.

When you return, Tom takes his turn with the bathroom. You look around his room and while you'd love to be tired and ready to sleep, you're not. So, you pull out your phone from your hoodie pocket and go to the window. You pull open the blinds and take a seat in front of one, leaning your side against the glass before putting in your earbuds, a near permanent accessory to your phone. Music plays and you find yourself in a state of contentment and for once, she aren't worrying about the morning. The morning is the morning's problem, not now.

Tom comes back to the room and he smiles as he sees you. Warmth spreads through his chest at the sight of your head against the window as you watch the few cars pass by, rain still pelting the window. He follows your lead and opens the other blinds, taking a seat in front of you and mimicking your position. He catches your attention and you take out your earbuds.

"What're you listenin' to?" Tom asks.

"Local band." You slide your phone to him so he can look at the band's name.

"I'll check them out, then."

"You should." You nod with confidence before looking back outside.

Tom sucks in a breath and he looks at the time on your phone, reading after two in the morning. "Tell me somethin'." Tom says, brows drawn together in curiosity.

"Like what?" You chuckle, looking back to him.

Tom shrugs. "I dunno." He laughs. "Just something you wouldn't tell anyone else."

You raise one brow in speculation. "Mm, not happenin', Pretty Boy."

Tom looks to the window and figures he'll share. Maybe if he shares, you'll share something, too. He's not tired and you don't seem to be. He wants to know you. If it takes him a thousand tries and a pick-ax to get past whatever walls you have, he'll do it.

"Haven't talked to my family in two years." Tom's voice goes sad and he keeps his stare at the window just watching the rain.

"Why not?" You ask, looking to him.

Tom shakes his head, sad eyes looking to you. "Disowned me."

"What'd you do?"

The corner of Tom's mouth tugs up as he shakes his head slowly. "Nope."

You snicker, running your tongue across your front teeth. "Okay," You say in understanding. "I, um, I don't, yeah, I don't talk to my parents either."

"Why not?"

"It's hard to talk to people who aren't around, ya know?" You reply and you look back to the window, your chest aching and a lump forming in your throat.

Tom can see you chew your cheek from his seat so he drops it. He didn't expect that. He doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't to hear that you don't talk to your parents either and because they aren't around. At least with Tom's family, it's on him. He fucked up. They want nothing to do with him over his fuck ups. You, your parents not being around, that's not on you or Travis.

"Alright," Tom breaks the silence that formed. "Something happier?"

You sigh and look to him with adornment. "I'm only telling you this because it's late and you're not gonna say anything because I know you design furniture." Tom rolls his eyes but gestures a hand for you to continue. "I like marine biology." You say quietly and Tom just shakes his head in confusion. "Everyone has a dream career, ya know? No limitations, nothing. Just, if you can anything in the world, that's it. Marine biology, I'd be a marine biologist."

Tom smiles ear to ear listening to you talk. "Why?"

You shrug a shoulder with wide, gentle eyes. "We know more about fuckin' space than we do about what the hell is on our own planet. How fuckin' insane is that? Wild, right?" Your words grow faster and more enthused as you keep talking. "They always say that animals like the Megalodon are extinct. Okay, but how do they know? Sure, is it likely? Nah, but it's possible. We weren't alive when it was in existence, or so we think. But, maybe that's it. It could live at the bottom of the ocean, as deep as the bottom of the Mariana's Trench. We just don't know and they're constantly discovering new species, some they thought were extinct like the giant squid. So, who's to say that these supposed extinct animals from the prehistoric era aren't extinct after all and just hiding in the depth of the ocean we can't reach with ease?" You finally finish and Tom's heart could beat out of his chest for you.

He feels like he's managed to fall even more for you. Listening to someone talk about something they're passionate about, really, really passionate about, there's nothing like that. It's raw and beautiful. Their eyes light up and their voice goes higher in pitch with the excitement and their joy just radiates off of them like the sun rays in the middle of the summer. You're rambling about something you love with everything in you and Tom gets to witness it, gets to hear it and he would do anything in the world to be able to hear you talk about it for the rest of his life. He doens't understand it and he's never found interest in marine biology but if you're going to talk about it, hell, Tom will listen with his entire being and full attention.

"What?" You ask after a moment of silence between the two of you. "You asked."

Tom bites his lip before letting out a beautiful laugh you would hate to admit you'd love to hear every day. "You're a nerd."

You extend your leg and kick him lightly. "Look who's talking." You scowl.

"I'm kidding, darling." Tom continues to laugh. "Didn't expect it."

"I'm full of surprises." You hold your head up.

"You gonna lemme see those surprises?"

You smirk. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

Tom nods once before looking back to the window. "C'mon," He looks back to you and jerks his head towards his bed. "Should get some sleep."

"Would it be ridiculous if I called off work tomorrow?" You ask but your voice already says it's rhetorical.

Tom shakes his head. "It's two-thirty in the fuckin' morning, I'm not going to work tomorrow." Tom scoffs as he gets to his feet.

You laugh quietly while Tom reaches down to help you up. "Good because I need a day."

"Yeah," Tom says and his smile falls just slightly.

The two of you make your way to Tom's bed after closing the blinds once more and crawl it at either side. You both roll on your sides, facing each other and it's comfortable for the two of you. Falling asleep with people can be awkward and even intimidating because everyone is most vulnerable while they sleep, but you and Tom don't feel any of that. You feel peaceful today, safe and secure. Somehow two dangerous people have managed to feel safe with each other.

You move closer to Tom, feeling the heat from his bare chest radiate to you. Tom's eyes glance to the bruise around your neck and his fingers come up to rub over it. Your eyes close and you let him look at it and touch it, waiting for him to say something. His fingers are calloused against your smooth skin but they're delicate and careful not to place any pressure making sure to not cause you any pain. It's just weird to him that someone would do this to you. You're snarky and you've got a mouth but to choke someone, to choke someone so hard that it leaves a bruise this vibrant, it pisses him off and makes him want to just take care of you.

"Really, you alright?" Tom asks and you can almost swear his accent is thicker.

"Always." You mutter, eyes still closed.

"You can tell me." Tom mumbles, the hand from your neck comes to your waist and pulls you closer to him.

You open our eyes and look up to him. "I'm fine, Pretty Boy, just tired and you are, too." You nuzzle your head into his chest, allowing his warmth to comfort her.

"Okay." Tom says, allowing the conversation to end, not wanting to push you. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to take him.

The rest of the night went by and Tom slept with his arms wrapped around you. You laid against him in perfect content. It was the best sleep you'd had in years. It was the best sleep you'd had despite the two of you both waking up to blaring alarms around six. You'd given each other groggy laughs before calling your jobs and calling in for a sick day. By six thirty, you were back to sleep, this time, your back to Tom's chest as he held you close.

It wasn't until eleven that you were stirring awake. Tom's arm was still wrapped you and you smiled softly to yourself, warmth flooding your chest. He said he was going to make it really hard for you not to like him and he's right because he's impossible not to like. He's impossible not to fall far.

You turn just to see him rolled over on his stomach. You bite back a quiet laugh because even though he felt he had reposition, he still had to be touching you, his arm around you. And you have one thought.

He's so perfect.

But, as you go to place a kiss on his shoulder, the bliss of the night before and the morning sun fades. Your heart throbs and your stomach turns while your mouth runs dry and a lump comes to your throat.

"No," You whisper sorrowfully to yourself looking at Tom's back.

A few burns decorate different spots of his back around the bruises. They're nasty. Blistered and red, inflamed and not looking to be cleaned well. Most of them look to be like they're in the same state of healing as if they were done at the same time. You think back to the times you watched Tom fight, trying to remember if you noticed anything. You were never too close to him but you swear they weren't there before.

The night before replays and you didn't claw his back and he didn't seem to be in any pain when he was on his back. But, then you remember him hesitating to take off his shirt. Maybe it's a coincidence that he kept his back away from you or maybe he did it intentionally, the only thing you do know is that Tom has circular burns on his back and you want to help him.

Your chin quivers and tears sting the back of her eyes. He doesn't deserve it and you'd do anything to be wrong. When you'd told Tom you knew what Arthur had done to him, you hoped you were wrong. You hoped that all Arthur did was threaten him, maybe show him something, but no. He really, really did get to him.

You pull yourself together and get out of bed, leaving Tom to sleep. You exit the bedroom quietly and go into the kitchen where you're greeted by Harrison making himself toast. Your eyes widen, not expecting him to be home. A strike of fear hits you as you wonder why he's home. He should be at the office, at work, with Arthur.

"Mornin'." Harrison chortles as he catches a glimpse of you.

"Morning." You say, voice still groggy with sleep.

"You okay?" Harrison asks, brows furrowing when he gets a better look at you.

"Yeah, always. Why're you home?" You shrug it off and take a seat at the counter.

"You don't look alright." Harrison states. "Did something happen? And Arthur called and told me not to come in."

You stare at him and you're good at lying but you don't try and hide it. You just stare at him and bite the inside of your cheek. Harrison's heart plummets and he's terrified of what happened. You and Tom did wake him up the night before and from what he knows, you were perfectly fine but by the look of pure sorrow on your face, that must not be the case.

"Okay, what happened?" Harrison asks, allowing worry to consume his voice.

You shake your head and widen your eyes slightly. "I-I," You stutter, trying to find the right words. "You and me, right?" You whisper just in case Tom wakes up.

"What?" Harrison asks.

"It's just you and me, right? You haven't told him shit, right? And you're not gonna?"

"Yeah, of course. What the hell is going on?"

"Do you know about Tom's back?" You keep your words low and quiet.

Harrison shakes his head. "What's wrong with his back?"

You scratch the side of your head, dodging Harrison's eyes. "He has burns."

"Burns?" An instant lump comes to Harrison's throat. "W-what do you mean burns?"

"Like, someone took a lit fucking cigar to his bare back and held it there until it went out, burns."

Harrison stares at you in a state of shock. He's pissed, beyond pissed, even. Without even having confirmation, Harrison knows it's Arthur but why? What purpose does he have to burn Tom? And why the hell wouldn't Tom just tell him? Harrison is tired of Arthur and he's tired of secrets. He wants his friend back and he wants his life back. He wants Arthur taken down.

"Okay, tell me what you're thinking." Harrison says as he comes around the counter and takes a seat beside you.

"Arthur likes to burn people, it's his thing. Some people strangle people," You point to your neck. "Others, burn them."

"But why?" Harrison presses. "Why'd he do it? How do you know it's a cigar?"

You bite the inside of your cheek as you look away from Harrison. In order to fill him in, you have to tell him things. You need to trust him and tell him everything you know with this. Just this. So, you pull at the sleeve of your hoodie until you get your arm out and show Harrison the inside of your bicep. A string of scars in not so perfect circles shows against your skin. Harrison takes your arm and looks at the scars, scars that are definitely from burns.

"Arthur has a thing with burning people who fuck him over or don't do what he wants." You say, taking your arm back and putting the hoodie back on fully.

Harrison sighs, running a hand through his hair a few times. "I'm sorry." He says.

"I'm over it." You state. "Fuck what he did to me. I don't fucking care. The point is that he's burning Tom, now."

Harrison groans as it hits him. Tom's been weird since Monday. Saturday, Arthur apparently cornered Tom, Sunday they didn't work, but Monday they did. Harrison doesn't keep track of Tom but he remembers Monday because Tom had his break with Arthur. Harrison just thought it was because he had that date with you and he put it in the back of his head but now he's kicking himself for doing it. He should have checked on Tom more, pushed him to tell him why he was acting off. Now he knows. Arthur showed him what will happen if he talks to you.

"It's because he talked to you." Harrison mutters through a sigh.

"Saturday."

"Yeah," Harrison nods. "Tom told me last night after we got you that Arthur told him to stay away from you. Monday, he had lunch with Arthur." Harrison admits. "I didn't...I don't know." Guilt takes over Harrison's voice.

"It's okay." You rest a hand on his shoulder. "Um, I-I don't know what to do, Harrison." You admit.

"You said you'd have a plan." Harrison almost whisper yells.

"I will." You reassure. "But I don't right now. I'm good at, uh, the...I'm a one night stand, okay? So, I just...ya know? Avoid him until-"

"No," Harrison cuts you off. "If Arthur sees you're avoiding him, he'll know and won't that be bad?"

You rub your face with your hands. "Yeah, you're right." You nod and you shrug. "Okay, we go on like we have been. Tom isn't stupid so he'll avoid me outside of this apartment. You gotta watch him though and make sure he's okay. Those burns are going to get infected if he doesn't clean them properly."

Harrison nods a few times. "Do you think he'll keep burning him?"

Your heart weighs heavy not wanting to tell Harrison. "It's just the start."