⭑ 3. HONEY AND MILK ; barry
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━━ CW ; kidnapping , threats of getting pimped out .
cigarette burns on my collar, i don’t think i like this life that we’re living / surviving on honey and milk, you don’t give me much more to make sure that i’m breathing ━━ honey and milk , flower face
the little basement was dark, save for the spluttering glow of the lone lightbulb having above you. you sit curled up on the tattered mattress, knees drawn up to your chest and thin blanket wrapped tightly around your frail shoulders, aimlessly fiddling with the loose threads. the silence was heavy — oppressive — broken only by the distant hum of the fridge upstairs and the faint drip of a leaky pipe.
you hear his boots first, the harsh thud-thud-thud down the rickety stairs instantly drawing your attention. when the door creaks open, your head snaps up instantly, eyes squinting in the sudden light spilling into the cramped space.
“still kickin’, bunny?” barry’s voice drawls, lazy and low as he reaches the bottom, cigarette perched between his lips.
you nod quickly, clutching the blanket like a lifeline. “‘m okay,” you whisper uncertainly, like you’re afraid of saying something wrong. “yeah?” he takes a long drag, the ember flaring as his dark eyes scan the room. “been eatin’? drinkin’? don’t need y’droppin’ dead on me.”
you hesitate before nodding slowly, voice softer this time. “um, had some of the crackers.. and a bit of water.” barry exhales a puff of smoke right into your face, smirking when you start to cough. “good, good. don’t wan’ y’wastin’ away, what kind of man’d i be then, huh?” you don’t answer, heart thumping painfully in your chest at his proximity.
“y’lookin’ after my place, right? he asks lightly, but you hear the underlying warning. “yes,” you blurt out immediately, “cleaned up — jus’ like you said. didn’t touch anything i wasn’t supposed to, i promise.”
barry crouches down in front of you, stained hand coming up to caress your soft cheek. his touch is rough and unwelcome and the stench of him invades all your senses — sweat and motor oil and cheap beer. it makes your stomach clench and turn on itself, makes your nose twitch and eyes water. “y’know bunny, you really oughta be grateful. not everyone’d take such good care of you. world’s a mean place for such a lil’ thing like you, it’d eat ya alive don’t y’think?”
you press your wobbly lips together, blinking away salty tears. his grip on your face tightens painfully, dirty fingernails digging into your skin. “answer me,” he says sharply, cigarette dangling dangerously close to your face. “ain’t i done right by you?”
“y-yeah,” you tremble like a leaf as you force out the words, trying not to gag at his breath. barry nods slowly, smirk curling into something darker. “you’d be a real hit with the sorta folks i deal with. but no—” he lets out a humourless laugh, shaking his head and standing up. “gotta keep y’all to m’self.”
“could be sharin’ you around, makin’ somethin’ real sweet outta all that innocence y’got.” his words send cold terror through your body, a reaction so visceral you feel bile rising up your scratchy throat and goosebumps flooding your skin. you hear the threat loud and clear. “nah,” barry continues, carelessly flicking ash over your head. “too fuckin’ pretty f’that. too soft. wouldn’t last a minute out there without me, ‘n i guess i like havin’ somethin’ pretty t’come home to.”
the tears finally slip down your face, the warmth a stark contrast to the frigid air. you shove a hand over your mouth, trying to stop the sobs from escaping; you knew better than to be a nuisance. barry laughs bitterly as he turns around, shuffling over the steps once again. “listen, uhh. you keep y’mouth shut, yeah? gonna get us in trouble if you keep up all that cryin’ shit. don’t wan’ anyone sniffin’ around here. ‘n don’t you give me a reason to come back down here tonight. won’t end well, bun. won’t end well at all.”