collusion

by Kvrosawa

The tentative puerile of a child besets the vitriolic berating that he's being given, it's noise in his ears, a pontificate droning that he doesn't recognize over his own hiccuped sobs of 'stop it, I'm f-fine, just fine', 'don't tell mom', and 'you're mad, aren't you'

The tentative puerile of a child besets the vitriolic berating that he's being given, it's noise in his ears, a pontificate droning that he doesn't recognize over his own hiccuped sobs of 'stop it, I'm f-fine, just fine!', 'don't tell mom!', and 'you're mad, aren't you?'

The lengths of his older brother's fingers wreath around his arm too tightly, too secured underneath such an insistent grip—he doubts that Alex knows his own strength— and with a pained flinch, a distraction from his injury, he decides not to remind him - wet lashes and trembling shoulders make him smaller than he actually is.

Josh had reached out for an araneus marmoreus, a marbled orb weaving spider. The arachnid had been perched 'pon a bushel of budding roses, retreating away from prying eyes and into the profligate thorny chasm; to which he had mindlessly plunged his arm into.

Alex's hands were sticking tacky with dried blood, the cuffs of his sleeves a crusted carmine. "What do you mean 'don't tell her'?" He grunts in indignation, pressing the bandage to the laceration until he was confident that it wasn't just going to peel back. "She's going to notice a huge gash on your wrist, moron."