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Scott's P.O.V.

I looked warily at the once perfect boy in front of me.

"Look, I'm worried about you Mitchie. You're not yourself, and look at how beat up you are! What's going on?"

His giggly persona didn't waver. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but I like that you're worried about me. It's kind of cute," he added with a smirk.

"Mitch, talk to me. Did you really get all those marks from paintball?"

His grin fade, replaced by a look of nervousness. "Of course I did! Why would I lie about something like that?"

I ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't know. It's just, it feels like there's something you're not telling me." 

Mitch shook his head. "Of course not."

"Is it Troye? If there's something going on, you know you can come to me about it, right?"

He smiled. "Absolutely."

Even though he assured me everything was fine, I could sense a hint of sadness in his voice. It scared me even more that he had something bothering him that he didn't want to tell me.

"Alright Mitch. I trust you," I answered, standing up.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Mitch whined.

"I was going to go get you some water and then leave you to get some rest."

He made a sour face.

"Would you rather I did something else?" I asked, confused.

He nodded. "I want you to lay down with me!"

"Mitch I-"

"Please?" His eyes pleaded with me, and finally I gave in.

"Alright, but I'm still going to get you that water."

He nodded, readjusting himself on the bed so that I could fit beside him.

I sighed as I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Mitch was making it really hard to think of him in a friendly way. I know that it wasn't his fault, that it was just the fever talking, but it was really hard to stay strong around him when he acted like this.

I filled the cup up absentmindedly, still thinking. Something else had to be going on with Mitch, and it frustrated me that he refused to tell me. Mitch had a lot of skills, but fortunately, lying was not one of them. He was definitely hiding something. If only I knew what...

I grabbed a couple of ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet before returning to Mitch.

"Yay! My knight in shining armor is back!" Mitch exclaimed, sitting up slightly to look at me.

I handed him the little pills to put in his mouth, then I brought the glass to his lips.

He sipped it gingerly, swallowing the pills, then continued to gulp it down until the glass was empty.

"I'm going to go go get you another glass," I said, wanting to make sure that he stayed hydrated.

"But I want to cuddle!" Mitch grumbled, rubbing his hand down my arm and stopping at my wrist. I could tell that he was trying to stop me, but he was so weak that it just felt like a touch.

"I'll be right back!"

I filled up the glass again and set it on Mitch's nightstand, then sat on the edge of his bed.

"Oh come on!" He put his hand on my chest and attempted to push me backwards. It wasn't nearly enough to actually move me, but I played along and leaned back next to Mitch.

"That's better," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I tensed, having a mini freak out session. What was I going to do now? As the boy snuggled in closer to my chest, my heart beat sped up. I mean, of course this was nice, but it felt wrong. Mitch wasn't thinking clearly. If he was, I'm sure that he wouldn't be caught dead doing this, especially with over controlling Troye.

"Mitch, I don't think we should-"

"Please don't leave me," he begged, his huge brown eyes filled with desperation. He looked genuinely afraid, and for the millionth time today, I was worried about him.

"I won't. I promise."

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close, resting my chin on the top of his head. I stroked his hair, brushing the ends of it back out of his face.

After a while, I heard soft snores escape Mitch's parted lips, and I smiled. He was always beautiful when he slept. He looked so at peace, something that I didn't see much of when he was awake.

I looked at the digital clocking the nightstand next to me. 11:03.

Why had Mitch come back home so early? I had expected him to be gone until at least tonight. That's what he had told me anyway. I wonder what made him change his mind.

The way his body was marked up suggested something more than just rough sports. It looked like it was done on purpose. Especially the long, deep cuts...

What if Troye really was hurting him? It would explain so many things. How he acted like he was afraid all the time. The marks. Why he refused to tell me what was going on.

But something like that was too big to just assume. If I was wrong, I could do something stupid and ruin Mitch's relationship. Just thinking about Troye laying a hand on Mitch now made my blood boil, and I knew that the next time I saw him it would be hard to restrain myself.

But I had to. Because of the broken boy in my arms. Because he had always been there for me. Because I loved him.