Matteo wakes up to the sound of yelling echoing off of the stone of the cell.
“Hey! Let us go!” The chains rattle across the cell as the other prisoner lunges for the door, stopping short at the end of their leash. Matteo has to admit, the iron circlet around their necks are overkill- the handcuffs keep either of them from moving quite effectively. They’re not angry, not threatening.
They’re desperate.
They’re scared.
Matteo just closes his eyes. Whoever they are, they’ll tire themselves out soon enough. They keep yelling in that vein over and over, saying their friends, their parents, the police will find them, until finally the clanking of chains and the rustle of movement slowly peter out.
A minute of blessed silence passes. Then two.
“What’s your name?” The voice is low, barely concealing the soft tremble.
Matteo doesn’t answer, turning to press his cheek against the stone. The cold soothes the growing bruises blooming across his face, the sensation familiar and alien at the same time.
“Can you hear me?”
He stifles an amused huff. They think he’s deaf. Maybe that’s for the best.
“Well, if- if you can hear me, you can call me Sefa.” The voice is getting smaller with each word. It’s for the best. He didn’t get a good look as they were dragged in, but all he had to see was the pastel hues on clothes that hung off a thin frame to know someone like them wouldn’t last more than an hour in a place like this. Better not to get attached.
The quick hitching of breath is the next thing he hears. Then soft sobs.
Fuck. They’re crying.
He stays still and silent, hoping they’ll tire themself out. He can wait. But as the minutes tick past, the soft, pathetic sound doesn’t stop. No matter how he tries to tune them out, the pitiful noises worm their way into his ears, and he finally sighs. Fuck. “Matteo,” he says gruffly.
The crying stops immediately with a soft gasp, but he doesn’t turn. “I- huh?”
“My name. It’s Matteo.” Fuck, he’s going to regret this.
Sefa tries to mask their sniffling, but they do a poor job of it. “Hi,” they whisper, voice cracking around the word and damnit, pity starts to coil around his heart.
“Hey.” Slowly, cursing himself every second, he turns towards them. In a matter of seconds, he’s taken in the pale brown skin, tightly coiled dark hair, some sort of eye makeup tear-smeared across freckled cheeks. Fuck, they look so scared.
“Do… do you know what they want?”
“No.”
They don’t respond, finally, but he watches as their shivering form curls up as much as the chains allow in their corner, tucking their head against their knees and hiding their face until all he can see is the pastel flowers dotting the pink of their shirt. He holds his nerve for a few minutes before he sighs and gives in. Maneuvering it awkwardly around the manacles, he tugs off his jacket. “Come here.” They immediately look up, wide-eyed as he jerks his head. “I know you’re freezing. Take my jacket.”
Their eyes dart nervously between his face and the well worn leather before they slowly shuffle towards him, making a soft noise as the end of the chain goes taut. Matteo does the same, carefully arranging his jacket around their shoulders- fuck, they’re dwarfed by it.
“Thank you,” they say timidly.
Matteo looks away. “Don’t mention it.” He expects to hear them slinking back to their corner, but he has to clamp down on his instincts to stop himself from lashing out as the warm weight of their head slowly rests on his shoulder. They’re... asleep. Something warm and protective stirs in his chest as he stares down at the tiny, scared, inexplicably trusting person that doesn’t belong in a shithole like this. They don’t belong anywhere near someone like him.
Fuck.
