CHAPTER [16] - Living Poor, shower.

Damsel was at a loss for what to do; he may well be considered homeless right now. He had a credit card, but it was money from his parents, and he didn't want to spend a single penny of it, while on the other hand, the three had nowhere to go; they were teens who still had to go to school and were still bound by their families. Damsel will be entirely independent once he is 18, but until then, he must attend that wretched school and sit in the same classroom as Matt for the next few days, and who knows if Carter will come all the way to school to find Darren and Samuel?

It was risky, and the consequences for the other 2 boys would be dangerous, so much so that Carter may permanently injure them or find a way to tie them down.

But what could he do?

Darren has 3 months until he turns 18, and damsel? 4.

If they go into hiding for four months, they will have legal standing to take Samuel's custody to court; Darren is a blood relative, and with Vincent's contacts, they may be able to win the case. Vincent's pack is well-connected all over the world, so a case like this one wouldn't be a huge concern, but the point is, Damsel couldn't contact Vincent until he had legal authority, at the very least.

If you were to say Damsel hated the knights, then Vincent despised them; he had history with them. Of course, Damsel only knew parts and pieces because Vincent never liked to talk about it, but when Vincent was trafficked to the United States, it was Carter who was attempting to buy slaves.

All of Vincent's anguish could be traced back to Carter and his pack.

His hatred could not be described in a few words; it was a hate that wanted to wreak havoc, a hate that wouldn't let the person rest until they murdered and destroyed their object of hatred, wanting them to suffer, scream, and see the life in their eyes go away, inch by inch.

He grew up with Vincent's remarks, and the way he looked at Darren was partly influenced by Vincent's beliefs; and Damsel knew he couldn't ask for assistance. Damsel's knuckles were becoming white against the steering wheel, he was clutching it so tightly, trying to stay calm and collected, but his thoughts were swarming around, his brain was hectic, and the vehicle lights flashing in front of him were making him dizzy. He pulled over to the side of the road when he realized he couldn't go any farther. He took deep breathes, perspiration trickled down his temples, and he could feel the worry eating him up. Darren was still dissociated, and Samuel was sprawled out in the back.

"Fuck." Damsel's head thumped like if he were bearing the weight of the entire universe on his shoulders.

He rested his head on the driving wheel, he was on the verge of a mental collapse, he had no money, no house, and two people who were essentially disabled were with him. He'd underestimated himself; three kids couldn't possibly survive on their own without passing out on the street for fuck's sake. Where was he going to receive the financial support?

Only the breaths of three people could be heard in the quiet of that automobile, and Damsel's was beginning to pick up, his chest swirling up and down as if he was straining to breathe.

"Prince,"

It was Darren's voice,

"I have a friend," His voice did not have a hint of emotion, after what he had gone through, there was no way to return to a right mental state, but right now, it was clear he was trying; trying to help. "His family owes me, we can stay at his old apartment. The rent is cheap, and if we both find paying jobs nearby, we can make do,"

Everything was collapsing around Damsel. He felt as though he were unnecessary luggage.

He lifted his head, sniffling as he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his suit and fixed his expression, he turned to look at Darren.

"Write the address." He gave him his phone, with the maps app opened.

A few minutes passed in silence, Damsel did not speak any further, although his eyes were sore and red, he couldn't open his mouth to say another word, he did not want to humiliate himself; it seemed that Darren did not act any further either.

But Damsel couldn't keep his words, feelings, and thoughts to himself. He started the Car again, flicking the switch before he changed the gear. In the silence between them, they were once again back on the road; this time, with a clear destination.

Darren spoke not another word, the silence from before was back again, like Darren had gone insane again. Perhaps Damsel was more influenced by it all because Darren was in such a condition; if the person in front of him acted as if nothing was happening, Damsel would instinctively change his thinking to match theirs. For example, If you felt of yourself as attractive, confident, and kind, you may as well subconsciously have the people around you start believing in your affirmations if you displayed it so often, even if they thought of you as ugly at the start.

This was how confidence worked.

Humans are swayed by others' reactions and opinions, wanting to follow them along and subconsciously replicate the majority's opinion. That's what made a society.

Damsel was impacted by Darren.

Darren's desperation for his mate, his sadness over his potential loss.

It rubbed off on Damsel aswell.

It made Damsel realize the reality of losing his mate aswell.

"Darren," Damsel spoke up, his hands turning the steering wheel at a turn, his gaze very much so still fixated on the road; but his head was pounding. He didn't know if Darren was even in the right mind right now, but he just wanted to tell someone his thoughts, his feelings, his insecurities.

A minute had gone by, and Damsel guessed that Darren paid no heed to him.

Then,

"Mm."

A small hum represented the fact that Darren answered.

Damsel's breath got stuck in his throat, "I want my mate."

Silence, again.

Damsel switched the gear.

"Yeah." Darren replied.

Sirens went off in Damsel's head, although he was driving with a straight face, the knuckles of his hands had turned white from how tightly he was grasping the steering wheel; but right now, he was almost as unstable as Darren was, the only difference was that Damsel couldn't show it, not now; not when at least one person had to pull through;

When anxiety and fear grabbed Damsel by the tongue and dried his mouth, he didn't panic anymore. He's been there before, He knew the feeling, and knowing it makes it less scary -  So instead of letting it take him down again, he told himself everything would be alright. He reminded himself, affirmed himself, that he was a good person, he does good things. Fear could only hold him back, make him make one too many mistakes.

He was done with letting his emotions take charge on him.

But today, with each time he held back, the weight of his anger became a little heavier to carry.

His heart was chaotic, and his thoughts even more so, he didn't know how he could survive the day; carrying responsibility, holding back from just crashing the car right there and then to fucking get it all over with; he was so frustrated, so fucking frustrated. He couldn't handle anything anymore. A part of him was ready to jump out, hit something, hit someone, or anything that could make him stop thinking. But then there was another part,  every inch of his body was screaming to gnaw his own organs out and leave to find his mate. That's all that mattered now, his mate.

"I don't think I have anything else left." A small whisper escaped Damsel's lips, it would've been inaudible in any other space, but in the silence of the car; it was the loudest any sound could be. "Ironic, I couldn't care less about her before, but the thought of her existing? That's all I have now."

The words came out so light-heartedly, like it was a casual joke; but Damsel's heart grew heavier with every word. He bit the insides of his cheek; and he felt his heart dropping. He blinked to hide, or more correctly, hold back any tears that wanted to potentially break through.

Damsel was a man, and men don't cry.

"I don't like the way you're speaking,"

Darren's voice filtered through all the thoughts in his head.

Damsel lifted his head, Darren wasn't even looking at him; instead, he was staring out the window.

"It's as if you're only longing for them because they're your only option." His voice was cold, "It's only now that they matter,"

Damsel was unable to speak.

Why?

Darren was right.

But Damsel couldn't admit, that deep down,

She had never meant anything to him.

Because she was always the last thing he thought about.

He took it all for granted, the idea of her, the thought of her, it was like he expected her to be served on a silver platter, like it was something obvious and expected that he would get her. Like a scheduled appointment.

But never in his life had he been more desperate for her until now.

Mates were truly a beautiful existence.

Holding her hand as nothing else in the world mattered.

It was only when he hit rock bottom that he realized the most generous gift of all was the other half of your heart.

That's not true,

i love her.

I want her.

I felt her.

The silhouette of his mate.

Darren was wrong.

Yet because the words were from Darren of all people, how could Damsel deny it at all?

For Darren, his mate was probably the only choice he had ever had in his whole life.

And that's what stilled Damsel in his spot.

From childhood till now, Darren's mate was the only thing that kept him going, the only thought that kept pushing him to live.

How was he feeling, all those years?

How was he putting up with everything?

Damsel knew he shouldn't have spoken up at that moment,

But he was emotional,

Everything came pouring into his mind, the rage, the agony, everything he had kept back all day seemed to burst out in full force, he was back in the passenger side of his own life, but the wrath blurred his thinking.

He could feel his nails driving into his palms and was on the verge of sobbing out of frustration.

Damsel scoffed, the gloss of his teary eyes painted over his sneer,

"It's not like you had any choice in the first place."

The words left his mouth involuntarily, in response to his emotions.

If you were to look at him from the right, you could see his heated face, the wetness of his eyes extremely clear, and his expression held a sense of panic, of insecurity.

But unfortunately, Darren was on the passenger seat, to the left.

He could only see the side of Damsel's arrogant sneer.

"She was, and always has been, your only pitiful option."

-

-..

The dread,

and the tension.

The realization of his words washed over his face, his limbs grew cold and he couldn't control his expression.

He wanted to wash his mouth out with soap.

He lost track of his words.

Damsel's clutch on the steering wheel loosened, it took everything in him to hide his trembling fingers at Darren's words.

He didn't mean to, he didn't mean to take it out on Darren.

-

Damsel dug into his pocket, reaching for the key that he had gotten from the landlord, he fixed the strap of his backpack, and he just merely stood Infront of the door, his breathing suspended, reaching for the knob to twist his key inside.

There was the noise of a key in the lock and then the door swung open,

Moving to a new home can be an additional difficult experience for children to cope with. The actual distance moved is not so important. Whether across town or across the country, the transition is stressful because it requires children to break attachments they've formed with their most intimate physical environments; the spaces within the only home they've known.

This was it, Damsel thought as he stared at the white door that would lead him into the 1-person apartment room, this was where he was going to spend the rest of his teenage years in. He had grown so accustomed to the pack-house that he had really thought he was going to stay there forever, to possibly become a Soldier, or Chad, the eldest's assistant. But he had never imagined a day would come where he'd leave everything behind, it was like his whole entire purpose of existence was erased and now he was forced into a new path.

His eyes pricked as the door opened.

The sight was a monstrosity, the walls had cracks and mold, its clear that water leaked inside from the rain and left the walls stained, the kitchen and bathroom were the only good things about the whole apartment, it was the only part where the appliances weren't rusty, or else, it would be too unhygienic to be a living space.

"Actually, although it's unfurnished, I'll give you money to go furniture shopping tomorrow, this is the least I can do." Joseph smiled at Darren, patting him on the shoulder, "If it weren't for you, my mother would've died."

Darren had once saved an old woman passed out in the park once, and paid for all her medical bills from that day onwards. and now, the woman's family were starting to live their lives without immense debt. The apartment building was one Joseph recommended Darren; he had paid the deposit and rent for the first month; and although Joseph's family wasn't well-off, they offered to help buy the furniture as well. It was the least they could do with the good amount of money they had made since their debts and bills were paid off.

The family moved to the country side, only their son stayed in the city to live with his girlfriend's family. Now, the boy's family were indebted to Darren, and with the small resources they had, they could help them out with small things at least.

"There's a bed for tonight in the bedroom, we can go out early in the morning." He smiled,

"Thank you, you really helped me out this time." Darren said, "I can't thank you enough."

Joseph laughed, "Call me tomorrow." Before stepping out of the door to leave.

Both boys had lost everything now,

oh, and Samuel.

Now, the two were left in silence.

Damsel did not like the silence, he felt awkward, and uncomfortable. the heavy atmosphere made him shift on one foot to the other, in the end he could only try to chase after Darren; who was cold to him. Damsel felt the need to make it better, make Darren forgive him, make Darren talk to him like how he did in the past.

"You were a walking charity." Damsel joked, awkwardly, "Now your good karma is coming back for you."

"No, you were just an asshole."

Damsel shut up.

The car ride had continued in silence, Darren had not uttered a single word after that, and neither did Damsel. Darren, who had just been through a destructive mechanism, should not have been spoken to like that. Or at any time for that matter. Damsel thought that he had gotten better, that he was finally able to hold his temper back; but who knew he had only switched from being physically temperamental, to now using his words instead.

God, he wished he could turn back time to 30 minutes ago, before he had reacted.

Now, there was a heavy ball of guilt eating away at everything inside him.

When he looked at Darren, he was only met with those tired, exhausted eyes that refused to meet his gaze. Darren hadn't looked at him at all since the car-ride; and Damsel couldn't handle it.

Darren had trouble walking, especially when he had to carry Samuel on his back. Damsel tried intervening, saying that he could carry Samuel aswell, but Darren ignored him. Even when they were climbing the stairs, Damsel tried to hold onto him, but he was shoved aside anytime he tried; all he could do was walk closely behind him, incase Darren fell, so that he could at least cushion the other's fall.

The atmosphere between the two was extremely chilly.

Darren wasn't in the right mind for anything, yet Damsel wasn't allowed to interfere any longer. He could only chase from behind.

Damsel was too ashamed to speak,

and it seemed something in Darren had switched.

Even his gaze seemed icy when he so much as  looked somewhere close to Damsel.

Familiarity would be a memory locked away in an old dusty wooden box; and there was also no reason to act chummy.

All that mattered was the future now.

The next 4 months.

Even if that meant that those months would be spent in silence.

The floor was designed dark wooden planked floor, it felt like he was trapped inside a box, there was absolutely nothing, and his breath hitched, his heart was thundering inside the closed space, it was spacious for sure, but it was suffocating.

The space was too small.

Way too small for 3 teens.

When you walked in, there was one room with 2 doors, one of them being the bedroom, and the other being the bathroom. The living room and kitchen had to be cramped into one area and it would be as soon as you walked in.

This was a studio apartment, a shitty one at that.

But it was the best they could get, that was Darren's summary at least.

But Damsel utterly hated it all.

A sheltered young-master surely couldn't survive in such a place.

Samuel was on Darren's back, being carried; and Damsel bit the insides of his cheeks.

Darren hoisted his brother up for a better balance, they had only looked into the bathroom when they had come in. He walked towards the other door, inside revealing the only piece of furniture inside the whole apartment;

a bed.

The sight scared Damsel to death.

He never knew a double-bed could be so narrow.

He wiped the sweat off his palms, he couldn't face Darren for a whole night, not after what happened in the pack house, nor with their fight inside the car.

Would Darren even be willing to lay next to him?

Would he be willing to lay next to Darren?

Why wouldn't he be? Darren had done nothing wrong; that was a fact that he had been having a hard time adapting to. You couldn't switch from hating someone with all your heart, to suddenly craving their forgiveness.

At this point, even getting to be looked at for a split second by Darren was an achievement in itself.

Damsel had never craved anyone's validation so much before,

especially not Darren's.

He didn't know how to adapt.

"Is Samuel going to be in the middle..?"

"He's an omega, he can't be in the middle."

Meaning, he couldn't sleep next to an alpha.

Darren was going to be in the middle then.

Damsel wouldn't touch Samuel even if he was the last person on earth, what the fuck was Darren thinking?

Was Damsel so disgusting? Enough to fuck around with some unconscious omega?

But Damsel knew that Darren had already painted a picture of what sort of person Damsel was in his head.

"Okay." He didn't intend to argue with Darren, he hated how he reacted earlier in the day, but he couldn't find it in himself to apologize for what he had said about Darren's mate. It wasn't like Darren had said anything wrong either; it was the truth, but Damsel didn't want to accept it.

Actually, it was more like,

Damsel didn't know how to apologize.

"I'm going to take a shower." Damsel stated, wanting at least some sort of response from Darren.

Darren was helping his unconscious brother into bed, gently lifting the duvet and fixing the boy's hair. Damsel felt quite startled at the sight, Darren was extremely doting.

No, Darren had always been kind.

So much so that Damsel hated him for it.

"Joseph left some of his clothes on the counter." He leisurely informed, tucking his brother in. "The knob is a little broken, so be careful to twist it to the right."

Even when Darren was angry, the most he got was silent treatment;

he still cared.

It was better to hate the person you were fighting with; because now that he was met with Darren's kindness, he didn't know what to do.

"Okay."

Damsel was never one to take clothes into the shower with him, he took only a towel, and shut the door of the bathroom.

When he twisted the knob to the left, cold, icy water came pouring down at him, the shower head was fucked up too, and Damsel cursed under his breath. Everything was uncomfortable, and it was all too cramped. Perhaps it was because he thought everything in the home was gross, that even the water started feeling a little sticky to his liking. Of course this was all in his imagination, the water was perfectly fine, but Damsel had prince-syndrome. He felt dirty.

He couldn't imagine living in this sort of environment for the next few days.

Yet, the cold temperature cooled down his thumping head, all his spiraling thoughts were as though they were getting frozen.

He felt water trickle into his scalding scalp, and down his outlined body;

in the pattering sound of the shower, and through the tainted glass, you could see vague outline; with abs that decorated along the abdomen; to a lean body. Damsel had the body that specific type of women went crazy for; that lean look. He didn't have bulging muscles that were in your face, but he had just the right amount of meat and bone to him. He had a few of his girlfriends regard him as pretty, or that he had a clean-kept, model sort of body. Mostly because of how hygienic he was.

Yet something was wrong. The water started spurting around like crazy, at first Damsel's eyes squinted in the foam, he thought he wasn't standing in the right spot, but no; when he wiped his face, water was quite literally flying everywhere. Damsel was scared out of his whits, like he had broken it or something;

"Fuck!"

he rushed out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist as he creaked the door open, a face of panic on display.

"Darren-.." He whispered, rushing to the empty open room of the apartment,

no response, it was too dark to see aswell.

His body was freezing from the cold, and the anxiety of a broken shower was springing in his mind, he was starting to get restless.

"Darren," He called, jumping from one foot to another, trying to exercise the coldness off, he walked into the pitch black room,

No response.

He was going to call again, but a hand covered his lips. "Shut up."

You'll wake Samuel.

His back felt a warmth; Darren was stood behind him, and Damsel's back was feeling the heat radiating off of Darren.

The sudden warmth was starting to climb down his spine, a small gasp escaped his lips.

His tongue briefly licked against the rough palm of Darren's hand.

Darren removed his hand, disgusted; but before the hand could drop back to his side, Damsel grasped his wrist.

Damsel turned around, facing Darren. But he couldn't see the other's face in the dark of the night; all he could feel was Darren's breath fanning across his face.

"The shower-.. It's not working." Damsel's hands grasped against Darren's shirt. The water that dribbled from his hands wet the other's shirt; and the temperature of the other figure was high, the heated touch against his freezing skin was ever so relaxing.

"I told you to turn it to the right, are you fucking stupid?"

His body subconsciously leaned closer, his hands raised to scrunch up Darren's clothes, "Forgot." His voice barely under a whisper.

"Don't touch me."

Darren gripped his wrists, forcefully removing them, before he made his way towards the bathroom.

Damsel's empty hands met with the freezing air.

"Oh."

The coldness in Darren's attitude was not something he was used to.

He didn't like being treated like this, at all, by anyone, for that matter.

He didn't like how it felt.

Inside, the water was going in all directions.

The coldness of Darren's words and actions were equal to Damsel's low body temperature.

Damsel was freezing, he stood on the side, watching Darren slide his shirt over his chest in one swift motion. His back muscles flexed when he went under the shower-head, his hands uncoiling the lid. The water poured over him, wetting his hair; Darren's jaw was locked, his brows flattened as his eyes concentrated on the compartment. He pushed the tip of his tongue against his cheek as he twisted the joint Infront of him.

It had been barely two minutes when he was finished,

whatever he had just done seemed like sorcery to Damsel.

Moreover, Damsel seemed all the more distracted; his eyes followed every flex in the other's back muscles as they moved and worked. He had seen Darren shirtless countless times, yet now, the way water trickled against his bare skin, down to wet his clothes-

Damsel had to look away.

"Come here, I'll show you how to open it."

He hesitated for a split second, for a reason he didn't know, until he really followed Darren into the shower.

"Which side do I turn it to?"

The shower head was de-attachable, so Darren took it off from it's hook to show Damsel, "It's got a dent, so you have to be position it correctly, some of the water sometimes goes all over when you turn it to the right."

"Oh."

"Listen to me properly when I tell you not to do something next time."

Damsel nodded.

"Then," Darren continued, explaining carefully as he showed Damsel.

"You turn the tap to the right,"

"Yeah."

"Like this."

A smile crawled up his lips.

Darren turned the tap; and the showerhead was facing directly towards Damsel. Ice, cold water rushed all over Damsel.

The look on Damsel's face when realization kicked in.