Gilbert held the trembling blond in his arms, warm tears seeping through his sweater. The boy just laid there in his embrace, frame shaking, slender arms wrapped around the Prussian's larger torso, sobbing into his shoulder. The albino gently petted his friend, whispering comforting things into his ear.

"It's alright…The man's gone, you don't have to worry about him anymore…"
Matthew just looked up at his friend, eyes starting to become red and puffy, the inside of his glasses covered in fresh tears as more ran down his pale cheeks, collecting at his chin before falling to the floor. He shook his head and let out a small hiccough as he rested his head on the other's shoulders once more, his sobs starting to decrease in number as he calmed himself down.

Rubbing the younger one's back, he rested his head on soft, blond locks of hair as he squeezed Matthew tightly in his arms. The blond felt a sense of protection as he melted into the older man's arms. His sobs had finally ceased, and he himself had managed to regain some sense of composure. Gilbert moved his head closer to his ear and Matthew felt his warm breath as the Prussian whispered…

"What did that man mean…when he said that he had already paid for you?"

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to tell his friend the answer, although he felt that the albino already had a hunch as to what that answer was.

"T-that's what people do…when you're….a whore…Like me…"

Gilbert almost felt sick when he heard the words seep bitterly through his friend's pale, pink lips. There was no way that Matthew...Innocent, young little Matthew...Could possibly be a prostitute.

But...No matter how much he wanted to deny the fact, he knew, deep down, that it was true.

And it made him angry. That there was someone out there, selling the Canadian's body for money. Someone sick and twisted, that felt that they could make a living off of selling a poor teenager to a bunch of strangers. Gilbert grinded his teeth together in frustration, making sure not to crush the petite blond in his arms as his anger swelled.

"Tell me, Matthew...Who is it?"

"W-who is what?" Matthew looked up at Gilbert, false confusion written on his tear-stained face.

"Who is forcing you to...to whore yourself out to these...sickos?"

Matthew felt his breath hitch in his throat. Should he tell him? He simply frowned and released the other man before turning his back to him. He stared at his feet, and whispered in a soft, almost non-existent voice...

"Francis Bonnefoy, the dean of St. Christina's academy...and also..."

Matthew felt tears threatening to fall from his eyes once more, and wiped them away with the sleeve of his sweater.

"M-m...my...father."


I know that this chapter is short, but fear not! For it is merely a prelude to what shall later come.

I should hopefully have the first chapter up by maybe...I wanna say Teusday? It may be Monday. It may be Wednesday. Just be patient with me, alrighty?

As always, constructive critism is always wanted, welcome, and encouraged. Falmes are also welcomed with open arms as well.

So...Review, kay?