Conor did pin the majority of the blame on his father, but he was weak, and somehow he had to deserve it, as it was clear that it was Conor that got most of the beating in the house. The woman’s arms embraced him with their warmth, and he snivelled loudly, blood and snot everywhere it seemed. He pressed himself against her, determined to become a part of her and never get separated again. He did not want to go back. Never, never. Mommy had left, Daddy was horrible, and Lexey did not want to live with Conor in the Lilium’s house. Therefore, Conor was determined to live in her house, no matter how slim his chances were. He felt like wetting himself just by thinking the words; going back. He huffed, whining into her soft fur, wondering why he could not be her song.
The next words flushed over him, mimicking the feeling of getting down into a hot bath, pleasure filling every cell of his being. If this was something that was merely said to comfort him in the presence was something he could not afford to ponder about, as it would hurt to much to imagine such a possibility. His blurry eyes tried to find hers, begging to see pure truth in her eyes. Her nuzzle was most welcome, and the boy continued his snivelling and whimpering, not wanting it to stop, ever. ”Don’t take me back to daddy, don’t!” the child begged, the last word nothing less than a scream as the words alone upset him further. Her next words surprised him. Did he hurt her? Again he tried to gaze at her, but this time trying to focus a bit more on her and less on himself.
He pressed his thin lips together and tried to instantly kill every sound, but he could not fully suppress the sobs instantly. He wanted to stop crying for her, but it was no on and off switch. His eyes still bled tears, but else from that he stayed quiet, hiccups shaking his body whenever they arrived.