#good thing we both agree that imane should get to beat the shit out of JKR as imane has XX chromosomes!

[heart-0f-a-rebel16]

i think jkr should box imane khelif but only if imane has a chromosome test first. if imane has a y chromosome, jkr automatically wins and the fight does not go ahead, and imane never enters female sport again. if imane has no y chromosome, the fight goes ahead.

the fact you don't want a sex test first, and think a dv and rape survivor should have to fight a potential male is proof you are as right wing as every other trans supporter. you despise women. you get off on seeing women hurt by men. you probably watch porn.

[airis-paris14]

Wonder What She Thinks 3

Summary: She learns to put herself first and he loses the best thing he ever had.

Masterlist || 3 || 4

I can’t predict my fate but I can’t be his no more… two years enough, few days but my week with you means more. - “Natural” Sabrina Claudio

So why are you still single?”Iman swirled her straw around her glass of mango lemonade. The man took a sip before answering, “Before now, I didn’t feel like my career was in a place where I could balance spending time in my relationship. I wanna do it right. I don’t want to look back and realize my career was the reason it doesn’t work out.”

Iman nodded and looked down, thinking on her on and off situationship with T’Challa. She hadn’t heard from the king in months. He’d been all over the news with his various dates and suspected engagements. At first the nurse was hurt, but she decided that maybe it was for the best. She and Michael had cultivated a close bond with each other. Instantly becoming fast friends after the game night. They hadn’t talked explicitly about being together. She knew that Michael had once been interested, but she couldn’t be sure anymore. They hadn’t talked about her and T’Challa either. Truth be told she didn’t know if she was ready to be in a relationship either right now. “I understand that. It’s great that you’re thinking through it. You wanna give that person your all.”

“Exactly,” the actor nodded. “What about you. I’ve known you for almost a year now, and I still don’t know why you haven’t settled down.”

“It’s complicated,” Zoe-Iman shrugged. “But why? Zoe I’ve seen the way men look at you when we’re hanging out. I can’t believe old dude hasn’t officially snapped you up yet,” Michael leaned back. “It’s his career too. It just isn’t the right time. Or wasn’t the right time. I haven’t heard from him in months so I don’t even know what we are either way.” Zoe sighed and frowned. “Zoe, I’m sorry I didn’t know. He’s stupid for that Ma. He doesn't know what an amazing thing he gave up.”

Zoe shrugged, “I guess. I mean we weren’t exclusive or anything but we’ve been friends forever. I at least expected a goodbye.”

“For sure. He definitely shouldn’t have disappeared on you like that. Are you alright?” Michael asked. “I don’t know honestly. It was most likely for the best. I doubt it would have ever been ‘the right time’ like he kept promising. I should have moved on a while ago,” the woman explained. “Well here’s to new beginnings,” Michael raised his glass. “What’s your new beginning?” Zoe asked as she raised her glass.

“My career is finally in a place where I can invest in a relationship,” the actor winked.

****

“Let’s go Zoe!” Kenois slapped her door frame twice before continuing down the hall. “I’m coming dang,” Zoe slipped on her heels and pressed send on a text message. She grabbed her little clutch and hightailed it out of the room. Sylia and Kenois had planned a group outing to a new 70s themed disco that had opened in the city. Named Studio 54A, in honor of the infamous disco from back in the day. With a guest list and dress code as exclusive as the original establishment, she wondered how her friends had secured all of them a spot on the VIP list. She was sure it had something to do with Michael, who ironically was the only one who could no longer make it. They all piled into the Uber black truck that was waiting outside and settled in for the ride.

Zoe heard her phone ping as they pulled off. “You look good mama,” Sylia complimented. “Yeah I haven’t seen you this excited to get dressed up and go out in a long time. Michael’s gonna be mad he missed this outfit” Kenois teased. “We’re just friends, besides I’m mad he’s not coming. He was my disco partner,” Zoe pouted dramatically. She slipped her phone out and read the message.

Michael: I’m sorry Zoe-Zoe.

Zoe-Iman: It’s okay. Work comes first. You gotta get that money.

Michael: no you come first.

Zoe’s heart stopped as she re-read his message before another followed it.

Michael: my friends and quality relationships should always come first. Especially good friends like you.

Zoe-Iman: But I and everyone else understand. Get some rest before your early shoot Mr.GQ x2

Michael: Only cause someone else dropped out.

Zoe-Iman: You’re still on the cover so it counts. Go to sleep.

Michael: Send me pictures and I promise I’ll make it up to you. Just you and me will go. And we can dance your little disco heart out.

Zoe-Iman: Shut up

Michael: Have a good time.

Zoe-Iman: I will. We will. Night.

Michael: Night.

“Is there something going on between you and Michael?,” Kenois smiles as they pull off the highway. “No,” Iman fought back a blush. “Yes there is!” Sylia pushed,”I knew y’all were getting close this past year, but it’s changed. The matching outfits, the way you grin at your phone when he texts.” Kenois added on

“I just enjoy his company,” Zoe shrugged. “Um hmm,” Sylia hummed. The truck reached their pit stop. The door opened and Trina, David, and Camden piled in. “Hey, y’all,” the woman smiled as she settled in. “What’s up?” Camden and David nodded and shut the door.

“Y’all look great!” Zoe smiled. The group was dressed to impress in vintage, and 70s inspired, outfits. “Where’s Michael?” David asked. “Something came up at the last minute and he couldn’t be out partying late.”

“Dang. Good thing I invited T, so we won’t be so outnumbered.” David sighed. “Nigga what?” Sylia stared at him. Trina and Kenois glanced over at Zoe who felt frozen in her seat. “Why would you invite T?” Trina turned to David, “you know he hasn’t been around lately.”

“That’s why I invited him.” David looked to Camden for help. Camden shrugged and sat back, opting to stay out of trouble on this one. Atleast for a little while longer. “You didn’t think that maybe he wasn’t around for a reason?”

David threw his hands up, “I figured the man was busy with being the prince of a whole country. I thought he could use a night out with some friends from college. Sue me!”

“It’s not that,” Kenois started. “Will y’all stop beating around the bush. Y’all obviously know something we don’t.” Camden finally interjected. “All of the women turned their heads to Zoe Iman. The boys leaned up in their seats from the back. “Me and T had a friends with benefits type thing for about the past year, then he ghosted me,” Zoe explained. Her eyes invested in the city outside her window.

“Y’all were fucking and ain’t tell nobody!”

Trina slapped David on the back of his head. “Shut up! You don’t see that driver sitting right there. Yelling out people’s business,” Trina muttered. “What he meant to say was why wouldn’t y’all tell us?” Camden corrected.

“T didn’t want anyone to know. And I didn’t want anyone to know that I was his dirty little secret. These three found out because they came back from some event early one night and heard us.” Zoe sighed, finally turning to look at two of her closest guy friends. “Yeah and she was always spending the night over there. We woulda found out anyway.” Sylia shrugged.

“I’m sorry Zoe, I wish I had known,” David frowned, his earlier amusement gone. “We’ll jack him up. All you gotta do is say the word. He had no right to ghost you like that and be out here going on dates with other chicks and shit.”

Camden nodded in agreement, “You know all of y’all like my sisters. Ain’t no dude gon mess with y’all and just walk away with both legs.”

Zoe-Iman offered a small smile, “It’s okay y’all. I’m good. I’m just trying to move on, and I hope he finds what he’s looking for.” She shrugged, turning back in her seat as the car pulled to a stop. “Besides I didn’t spend two months learning disco moves to not show them off now.

“I know that’s right, and the way that dress is looking with them heels, he gon be on his knees by the end of the night,” Trina grinned. Zoe-Iman turned to the boys, “Please don’t feel bad about it. I’m good, y’all enjoy time with him. He was y’all’s friend first. He hasn’t done anything to y’all.”

“We understand, but he hurt you.”

David agreed, “Him hurting you, is him hurting us. And best believe we gon be talking about it tonight.” The boys got out of the car before Zoe could ask them not to. Once she sighed as they walked ahead, anticipating the awkward night ahead. She desperately wished she hadn’t told Michael to go to sleep.

*****

“What time should I expect you back?” Nakia wrapped a scarf around her hair as T’Challa grabbed his wallet off of the night stand. “I am not sure,” the king sighed, turning to face his father’s choice. “Are you sure I cannot accompany you? I want to meet your friends,” the woman smiled and turned to face him. “Not this time,” he turned, avoiding the disappointment he knew was plastered all over her face. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“No. Goodnight Nakia.” T’Challa hurried out of his hotel room. He slid into his waiting car and sighed. He prayed to Bast that Zoe-Iman was there. He’d deleted her number after Nakia became insecure about and suspicious of how often he was texting and meeting up with her. He knew that dropping Zoe like she meant nothing was the worst decision he’d ever made, but he needed to keep Nakia happy and by his side. However he missed his best friend and lover. She was like a drug, and he was well overdue for a re-up. The future king knew that she would be upset at first, but he knew that he could explain what had happened and they’d be able to fix his mistakes and get a life saving dose of his Iman. What the prince was not expecting, was outside intervention in his plans.

His car pulled up to the club and he breezed through the front door. Once inside he spotted his friends and walked over, disappointed to see that none of the women were present. “The king is in the house!” David stood and greeted his friend. “Stop it. I am not a king yet,” T’Challa laughed. After hugs and daps were exchanged they settled into the booth and T’Challa ordered his usual whiskey on the rocks. “So who’s this girl we’ve been seeing you all over the news with?”

T’Challa sighed and sipped his drink, “She is my father’s choice for a wife.”

“And you going along with it?” Camden raised an eyebrow. “It is not that simple,” he offered as an excuse. “Where are the girls?”

“They’re on the dance floor somewhere,” David pointed vaguely, “but you really worried about everybody or Zoe-Iman in particular?” T’Challa looked at his friend over the edge of his glass, “they are all my friends and I miss them equally-“

“Cut the bull lover boy,” Camden sat his drink down. “We found out you were messing around with Zoe-Iman.” T’Challa’s heart dropped. He and Zoe had promised they wouldn’t diverge their secret to the group. “And nah she ain’t tell us, the other girls did,” David clarified, “they came home early and heard y’all one night.”

“Well what about it? We’re both adults,” T’Challa shrugged. “It’s not even about that T! Nigga you really over here playing with her heart like it’s nothing.” David fussed. “I am not playing with her heart,” the king insisted.

“Then why she look like she was gon have a heart attack when I told everyone you were coming,” David fussed, “cause you making her look like a fool. Out here with other women in public, then ghosting her when your other chicks ask you too.”

“How did you-“ T’Challa started.

“We are not stupid bruh. You used to look at ol girl like she was your sun and moon. It had to take another girl to make you just ghost her.” Camden rubbed his temple.

“Iman knows what’s going on with my family.”

“That don’t make it okay T! You know she’s like my little sister and I hate seeing her all sad and shit over a nigga. And my friend at that! The only reason I ain’t jumped on yo ass is cause she begged me not too.” David fussed.

“She sat in the van after everyone found out and still defended you man. Cause she loves you, and you out here dating other chicks?” Camden chimed in. “I should just go you all wouldn’t understand,” T’Challa threw back the rest of his drink and reached for his wallet. “Understand what huh?” David pushed, “We want to understand but you keep pushing us away, just like you pushing Iman!”

“I can’t marry an outsider!”

The table went silent. “T do you love that girl?” Camden questioned a beat later, his hand stopping T’Challa’s from placing the money for his drink on the table. “More than I could ever explain,” the prince answered. “Then fight for her! Change the law!”

T’Challa places his money on the table, “Who could do that? It is tradition!”

“I thought you were the next king?” David shot back, “act like one and set a new precedent.”

“It is not that easy,” T’Challa insisted.

“It can’t be that difficult either.”

“Goodnight gentlemen,” T’Challa stood and strolled out of the bar.

“Oh shit,” Kenois mumbled as their college friend turned monarch stormed out of the bar. Zoe looked up and froze as his silhouette moved outside. She looked back at her friends once he’d left and they were all ready staring at her. “Go get your closure,” Trina pushed her with a sad smile. Zoe nodded and followed her lover out of the doors.

“Challa, wait!” She called. She sighed in relief as he paused getting in the car. Once she was close enough, he recognized her and pushed her into the car. “Drive around the block,” he ordered before raising the partition. “What are you doing? Someone could have seen us!” Zoe’s nervous smile fell and her anger kicked in. “I’m sorry, I forgot you don’t know me when we’re out in public,” she scoffed.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” T’Challa fell back into his seat. “No, I obviously don’t know that because I thought I could talk to my “friend” in public, but I guess I’m too lowly for that privilege as well.”

“Zoe-,” the king started. “No, just drop me off at home,” the nurse frowned, turning to look out the window. “I apologize Iman,” The king broke the tense silence.

“Um hmm,” she hummed, staring out of the window. “You’re not even going to look at me?”

“I don’t even know the man I would be looking at any more.” Zoe wiped a tear that had fought its way down her face. “I am still the same man,” The Royal reached for her hand and she snatched it away. “Do not touch me,” the woman hissed. “Iman, baby please,” He pleaded, moving closer to her.

“Please what? Ten minutes ago you were angry that I had the audacity to call your name out on the street.”

“It is not like that, you know that I have to keep my charade up in the public eye, there were cameras-”

“Outside of the club. I get that, but you can’t have a friend? It is not like your family does not know who I am. And you’ve been flipping back and forth between women lately like it's a tennis match, no one would even care T’Challa.”

“Those women are different Iman, and you know that.” The king sighed.

“Different how?”

“I don’t love them. I love you, and the media would see it as clear as day on my face if we went out together.”

Zoe Iman froze as T’Challa sighed. “And it was so hard to pick up the phone and say that. You just dropped me like I meant absolutely nothing to you. That hurt me T’Challa.”

“It was not like that,” The king tried to grab her hand again and she moved away. “Then tell me what it was like.”

“I- my father- has selected his top candidate and she became suspicious of us, so I let her delete your contact-”

“But you love me right?” Zoe chuckled and rolled down the partition, “Zoe wait,” the king tried to remove her hand. “Do not touch me your majesty! Okoye, take me home please. I have nothing left to say to his majesty tonight.”

“Okoye, keep driving around,” the king ordered. He grabbed Zoe’s hand and pulled her closer to him, “Let me go!”

“Not until you listen to me!”

“Why, so you can lie to me and then get me in your bed again?” Zoe growled, “Okoye, stop the car!”

“No Iman, listen to me,” The king grabbed both of her hands and fought over what he was about to say to her. “I have to choose a bride soon, and I am tired of lying to you and my father.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I am gonna make everything right,” The king smiled as her posture relaxed slightly, “I promise.”

“I don’t need promises, your majesty, you made enough of those when we had sex in your hotel room last month.”

“But this time I am not drunk,” the king reassured, “and I intend to keep them this time.”

Zoe looked out of the window to think, watching as her neighborhood came into view. “Do not bother your majesty. A drunk mouth speaks a sober mind, and all your sober mind seems to be filled with is empty promises and sweet nothings.” Iman grabbed her things and wiped the tears that had started to fall.

The king’s face fell, “Iman please, I want you-”

“Yes, but just in your bed for the night. Go home to your fiancée,” She sighed digging around her purse for her keys as Okoye pulled up to her driveway. “How did you know I had proposed?”

Zoe-Iman James’s heart broke, as he confirmed what she’d suspected since the night they’d drunkenly fallen into bed two months after he ghosted her, “I didn’t. You just told me.” Her lips quivered as sobs clawed their way up her throat.

The king sat back, the full gravity of what had just happened settling squarely on his shoulders. “Have a good night Your majesty,” Zoe croaked before climbing out of the door that had been opened for her.

A few minutes later, Ayo re-entered the car and Okoye began driving off. “I hope you have made the right decision T’Challa,” the guard raised her eyebrow at the king. “It was the only decision Okoye,” he wiped a tear that had fallen down his cheek. “With all due respect your majesty, all three of us know that it was not.” Ayo frowned before closing the partition to give the young man some space.

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @nyneebee @hutchj @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @strictlyashley @afraiddreamingandloving @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @gorjiss @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @yoyolovesbucky @derangedcupcake @builtalongthewayside @ilcb7 @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @dopegalkk @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @shesakillerkween @waitingonafriend @faatassbitch @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @cxnismajcr @tchallasbabymama

[vitanes]

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 4: you’re surprising 

Lucas feels weird after the events of Friday and his head is a mess. Manon is back from London, there’s some mural painting and Lucas figures out that Arthur has a crush on Eliott. Oh, he also gains a new friend.

There’s nearly complete darkness accompanied by flickering lights every few seconds that change accordingly to the beat of the music currently playing. The air smells of sweat and something heavy, hard to determine. Masses of bodies are moving, lost in the dance.

And there’s Lucas, standing in the middle of it all, his lips parted and legs frozen in place. He gulps.

These hooded eyes are boring into him, sending sparks all over his body. They are piercing through him and he lets them. Lucas seems to be unable to look away. In truth, he doesn’t want to do so, the pull so strong he can barely breathe. It’s suffocating, but in a way that’s addicting.

Lucas gasps when Eliott steps closer, leaving mere centimetres between them. He can feel Eliott’s damp exhales on his skin. There’s something consuming in the way he’s watching Lucas and Lucas wants more. He reaches out and his finger grazes Eliott’s wrist, the smooth skin over his pulse point. Eliott’s pupils dilate in an almost cartoonish way after the touch and Lucas is entranced by how he feels like he could literally fall into those deep black pools.

He wants to fall.

So he takes a leap forward and does just that. There’s no Eliott, no party, no tantalising stare. Just overwhelming darkness. Lucas can’t see a single thing and his heart speeds up.

“Silly, just open your eyes,” someone whispers into his ear.

Oh.

He blinks and gets an eyeful of colours and a face planted on his. He realises he’s kissing someone and takes another few seconds to notice who that is. The chick from the party, she’s licking into his lips with passion and Lucas looks up in panic, searching for someone that could save him from being eaten alive.

Lucas meets these eyes again and gets a feeling of déjà vu. He tilts his head to the side in confusion and Chloé moans into his mouth.  

He doesn’t want to kiss her. Lucas closes and opens his eyes again in hopes that she’d be gone and much to his relief, finds out there’s someone else in her place now. Then, he yelps when Eliott moves his hands up Lucas’ neck and cups his face, deepening the kiss. It feels hot and Lucas doesn’t know where to put his own palms so he rests them against Eliott’s chest.

Lucas is woken up by loud and rapid breathing, a whine coming deep from within his throat. His eyes flutter open and he sits up. There are drops of sweat rolling down his back and his heart can’t quite slow down. After getting his bearings, though, the initial horror dissipates just to make a place for nauseating realisation when Lucas notices a problem when he looks down.

Fuck.

He drags his hand down his face, making an embarrassing noise while he’s at it and falls down against his pillow. He can’t fucking believe his body reacted like that to a dream about a guy he despises.

At the memory of the dream, he hides his face in his palms. It’s been two days since the party and whatever the fuck this eye contact with Eliott was. And apparently, it’s fucking with Lucas in ways he hadn't imagined were possible.

Just how exactly is he supposed to look Eliott in the eyes without the same sensation from Friday and tons of questions? Especially after dreaming of kissing him. It’ll be written all over Lucas’ face and he’s not going to survive that.  

He gets out of the bed, planting his feet on the cold floor and shivers at the contact. He figures out he’ll go for a pee if he’s already up and takes his steps out of his room, towards the toilet.

Lucas stops in the middle upon hearing low and hushed voices coming from the kitchen. He can recognise one as Mika’s, but the second one, even though familiar, doesn’t ring a bell that quickly.

He listens more intently.

“–why I came here. Would it be okay if I stayed in the flat up until I find something for myself?” Oh, it’s Manon. It’s definitely her. Manon is back, but why? She sounds tired and a bit as if she was crying.

“Yeah, sure. We can arrange everything tomorrow, now you should go to sleep and rest.” Lucas hears a watery sigh coming from Manon and some commotion soon after, followed by Mika getting closer to the door.

Shit. Lucas literally runs towards the toilet and locks himself in.

What a fucking ride, he thinks. And there’s more to come.

 ***

 Palms sweating, Lucas is waiting with the boys in front of the school for the first bell to ring. It’s a windy morning and he pulls his hood up, deliberately avoiding looking anywhere close Eliott. While doing so, he notices that his eyes move over to him rather too often. He’s doing a terrible job at containing himself.

He coughs when Eliott catches his eye and looks away. Checks his notifications to busy himself and scowls when there’s nothing.

Okay, so there’s nothing to overthink. It’s not like he’s suddenly into Eliott. But, objectively speaking Eliott is an attractive guy and Lucas is into boys, no matter how much he denies that. Lucas was also drunk and trying to play a straight person. Eliott was simply conveniently there for Lucas to project his desires on. It’s logical.

“The party on Friday was wild,” Basile says out of nowhere and Lucas’ head snaps up. He looks towards Eliott and Eliott gazes back at him. As if they shared a secret.

Someone nudges Lucas in the ribs and he yelps.

“You went hard with that girl, dude. Did you two,” Yann stops, a smirk tugging at his lips. He wiggles his eyebrows.

“We just kissed,” Lucas mumbles to explain himself.

Thankfully, that’s as far as they got. The moment her palm went down and started pressing against his crotch, Lucas excused himself to the toilet and soon after, left. She probably thinks he’s the biggest asshole who ditched her and will never want to speak to him again–

“Hey, Lucas!” Chloé pops up right in front of his eyes and before he can react, kisses both of his cheeks. Oh, God.  He summoned her. “Friday was fun, we should do it sometime soon,” she says excitedly and winks at him. Then, she just disappears with her friends. Like that. Leaving Lucas appalled.

“That was bold,” Arthur comments, looking after her.

“We’ve literally only kissed,” Lucas mutters, realising he might have brought even more problems on himself.

“Yeah, but she’s into you. And now when she knows you’re into her?” Yann shakes his head.

Lucas sighs in exasperation and sees Eliott’s amusement out of the corner of his eye. He squints. What’s so funny, now?

“Anyways, Manon is back,” he says offhandedly, to change the topic.

“Huh? Wasn’t she in London?” Yann asks, frowning.

“Yeah. They broke up.” Lucas shrugs.

In the morning, Mika took both him and Lisa to the kitchen and told them that a)Manon and Charles broke up, b)she was staying in the living room for the time being, and c)they shouldn’t ask any questions. They simply nodded since there wasn’t anything else they could have done. But it’s suspicious she’s come back, unannounced, in the middle of the night and they had no other option but to guess.

Well, at the very least no one told Lucas to give up his room to Manon. A brief thought like that passed his mind at some point since Lisa and Mika have known Manon longer. But it wouldn’t make sense if he’s paying for his place there, right? Or well, is trying to pay. It’s not his fault that his father is an asshole and there’s a blackmailer demanding money every week.

“That sucks,” Yann eventually comments. One can think so. It’s not like you could expect anything splendid from Charles.

“Guys, when are we going to take care of the mural?” Basile chimes in.

“Wednesday?” Arthur suggest, looking all over them.

“Wednesday is good,” Eliott agrees and Lucas’ eyes jump to him. Eliott sends Lucas a tiny, barely there, smile and Lucas honest to God blushes.

Why is this guy like that?

“Ok, so Wednesday,” Yann says and they all nod.

 ***

 So that was a fucking lie. Eliott is not there on Wednesday and they are standing in the middle of the common room like some kind of buffoons, staring at the wall and the cans of paint.

“Let’s just paint it,” Lucas eventually says, when it’s been over half an hour and Eliott hasn’t responded to a single text Arthur sent him.

“But Eliott is the artist and we are his tools,” Basile declares solemnly and Lucas rolls his eyes.

Maybe he’d hate Eliott less if his friends didn’t worship him this much.

“What about your unicorns and shit?”

“I’ve seen Eliott’s art and I can honestly say I don’t want to disrupt his genius with that.”

“We have to paint it white first anyway, we can manage that without him,” Lucas says and looks towards Arthur and Yann. Then, he proceeds to reach for the white paint can and a brush. He isn’t going to wait for them and waste more time waiting for Eliott, especially since Lucas knows he won’t come. When does he ever?

“You’re angry,” Arthur notices when Lucas starts painting.

“No shit,” he mutters and his moves get slightly frantic.

The air between him and Eliott has been weird, but Eliott hasn’t shown a single indication that anything has changed since Friday. And it’s not like Lucas wants him to, nothing has happened after all. But it makes his skin crawl and leaves him irritated for some reason. How come Eliott skips school when Lucas keeps replaying that scene over and over again in his mind?

He thought that if they spent more time, painting that mural, Lucas would get over those weird sensations and could stay being solely hostile towards Eliott. But no, of course, nothing ever goes according to his plans.

“Um, why’s Lucas trying to murder that wall? I mean the mural is hideous, but he’s splashing the paint all over the place.”

Lucas stops and turns around at the sound of Imane’s voice. He feels stupid when it’s not only the boys but also Imane, Daphne, Alexia and Emma witnessing his little scene.

“He’s got a lot of pent up energy,” Arthur jokes and reaches for a brush himself. He sends Lucas a meaningful look before he, too, starts painting.

“Weren’t you supposed to do that with Eliott?” Daphne asks, concerned.

“Apparently, he hasn’t come to school today,” Yann says, unbothered, and joins Arthur and Lucas.

Soon enough, Basile begins working alongside them and it feels just like the old times when they were a team. Lucas relaxes in an instant and breathes out.

“We will cover the wall in white and see what Eliott has in store later,” Lucas explains and gets a synchronized hum from the girls. “Don’t worry, we can’t make it any worse.” He smirks under his nose.

“You could paint a dick,” Alexia says.

“That wouldn’t make it worse,” Emma teases.

Lucas snorts. His anger levels have gone from very high to pretty stable in just under five minutes.

 ***

 Painting a huge wall with your friends might be plenty of fun, Lucas thinks, but when everything is over and he’s back in the flat, his arms sore as fuck, he has to admit he isn’t sure the aftermath is worth it. They covered the whole thing in white, their clothes have got some splashes on them as well. It was successful, despite Eliott’s absence, but still. Lucas feels drained now.

And he can’t even plop down on the couch and take a power nap like he’d normally do, with Manon’s stuff on it.

He sits down on an armchair, though. It’s soft as well.

Just as he gets comfortable, Manon enters the room. They’ve barely talked since she’s appeared and Lucas assumes they’ll simply chill around each other. But then Manon opens her mouth as she takes her place on the couch.

“Have fun?” she asks, nodding towards his stained t-shirt. He looks down on himself and sighs. Let’s hope he’ll be able to wash it away.

“Yeah. We’ve been painting over the mural in the common room. You’ve probably seen it,” he says, pressing his hand to his forehead and yawning.

“Um, no, I haven’t,” she admits, fidgeting in place and one of Lucas’ eyebrows goes up.

“The girls haven’t dragged you there, yet?”

“They don’t know I’m back.”

Oh, that’s surprising.

“Why not? Not even Emma?”

Manon shakes her head and looks down on her lap. “They’d ask me questions and look at me the way I really don’t need right now. So they don’t know. I need a couple of days to myself first.”

Lucas understands. Sort of. Sometimes solitude is the best option. Like, friends caring is great but they can get overbearing when it’s about something you aren’t keen on sharing. It’s still weird, the fact they all think Manon is in London, but it’s her decision whether she wants to reveal the truth now or wait a little longer. Lucas can only offer his support.

“Well, in that case, I’m glad I haven’t let it slip around the girls.”

Technically, he mentioned it to his friends, but it doesn’t mean they paid much attention or that they’ll spread it around. If Yann and Emma were still together, there’d be a likelihood of him telling her, but well. The secret is quite safe.

She smiles at him briefly, before her expression shifts into one of concern. “Mika told me you’ve been having problems with money. Is everything alright?”

Can Mika shut up for once in his life? Lucas can feel irritation flaring up inside him.

“I told him I’ll handle it. I just need some time,” Lucas says. He knows he can’t prolong not paying the rent forever, but for now, he doesn’t have any other choice.

“Hey, hey,” Manon reaches out and tilts his chin up to have him look at her. “No one’s mad at you and it’s not about money. We’re worried about you, that’s all. We want to help you, okay?” she asks, softly and brushes her fingers over his cheek before pulling away, her eyes still glued to his face.

It’s pitiful, how everyone acts like he’s that poor kid that can’t manage anything himself. What’s worse is that they’re right.

“I appreciate that,” he clears his throat, “I’ll tell you if something happens. Really,” he promises and his voice doesn’t wobble upon uttering this lie.

If he genuinely was going to speak up, he’d have done it weeks ago.

 ***

 “Eliott’s been MIA since Tuesday, it’s unnerving,” Arthur says, gathering some rice onto his fork.

As much as Lucas was angry the day before, he’s pretty unaffected now. He doesn’t care whether Eliott will appear or not. Whatever. He’s already over this moment they shared last Friday, he still hates him and wishes he was gone entirely.

“Maybe he’s changed schools again,” he suggests, chewing on a piece of meat.

“I doubt that,” Arthur replies, a tinge of concern audible in his voice. Lucas narrows his eyes at him. Why’s he so worried? It’s not like Eliott hasn’t skipped school before without giving them heads up. Not even Yann and Basile seem to be bothered by it. Sure they aren’t happy, but Arthur is on a whole new level. He’s probably flooded Eliott’s DMs by now. “Last times, he’d at least answer my texts after some time.”

One moment Lucas is confused and in the next one he has an epiphany of the century and he sits up straighter. How could it slip his mind? How come he hasn’t realised it earlier? Arthur must have a crush on Eliott, hence all the excessive worrying. And who knows, maybe they have a thing? That would explain why Arthur feels so entitled to Eliott replying to him. All of that seems possible, especially with how close they seemed to be from the very beginning. Like yeah, sure, Yann likes Eliott, Basile idolises him to an unhealthy level, but Arthur and Eliott? They seem much more like equals, texting each other privately and shit. Arthur being Eliott’s to go whenever he wants them to know something, always sitting together, having the most natural flow of the conversation. Lucas wants to congratulate and pat himself on the back for figuring it out.

And now Eliott doesn’t feel like at least letting Arthur know if everything is okay. What a dick.

“Oh,” Yann lets out which brings Lucas back from his thoughts.

They all turn their heads to where Yann is looking towards and here he is, looming over them. Eliott is standing next to Lucas’ left, anxiously looking over them, pale and with dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders are drawn up and he seems tense. On edge.

“Hey, man. You okay?” Yann recovers first and kicks the chair next to Lucas to indicate that Eliott should sit down. Eliott eyes the chair for a long moment, the muscles in his jaw working. Then, after what looks like having a debacle whether to sit down or not, he joins the table.

His elbow brushes Lucas’ and for a moment Lucas stops breathing.

He’s watching Eliott out of the corner of his eye, as are the rest of them.

“I’m fine. I wasn’t feeling too well lately,” he curtly explains, keeping his eyes on each of them for a split second. Lucas has a feeling Eliott doesn’t want to hold longer eye contact with none of them. He is hesitant and opens his mouth a couple of times before saying anything. “I know we were supposed to paint the mural together and I fucked up. I want to make it up to you. All of you,” he glances briefly at Lucas, “I was thinking we could chill at mine? Tomorrow? I have the beer and a big TV with a console, so,” he says, his voice composed.

“Hell yeah, bro. Let’s hang out. And Lucas has our reserved stash of weed, doesn’t he? It’ll be nice,” Arthur says, a reassuring smile stretching his lips. Lucas is a little disgusted with how obvious he is.

“Yeah,” Yann agrees. “And don’t beat yourself over it. Happens to the best of us.”

“We’re going to come,” Basile declares, grinning.

Then, all pairs of eyes move towards Lucas who’s been sitting quietly from the second this whole ordeal started.

“Well, I guess I’ll come, too,” he mutters, his voice filled with defeat. He’s forced to do that, don’t let anyone fool you.

And if he notices how Eliott lights up when he hears Lucas’ words, he doesn’t think anything of it.

 ***

 There’s a small bag of weed tucked safely in his backpack, his phone is charged to one hundred percent and he is ready to knock on the door to Eliott’s flat. He sighs and tentatively raps his knuckles against the wood, hoping that he isn’t the first one to arrive. He can’t bear being with Eliott in the same room and having to strike up a conversation with him without anyone else around.

He hears steps approaching the door, the knob turns and then he’s faced with Eliott, smiling down on him. Lucas looks to the side.

“Come in,” Eliott says and steps back. Lucas bites down on his bottom lip and gets inside.

He’s met with quiet and it’s then that his gut tells him something isn’t right.

“No one else has come yet?” he asks, following Eliott to the living room. Eliott points him to the couch and takes his jacket to put it in the other room.

“Nope. Just you and me,” he says when he comes back and sits on an armchair across the couch. “I thought you’d all come together.” He shrugs, leaning comfortably against the back of the armchair.

Lucas swallows, his fingers drumming over his knee. “Well, I was sure they’d already be here,” he mutters, looking around.

The place is spacious. Despite the lights being dimmed, it doesn’t feel suffocating. Looks pretty cosy.

“This place yours?” he asks, his eyes catching on some drawings hung on the wall.

“Yeah. My parents are paying, though. And visit pretty often. But other than that, it’s my space.”

“No nosy flatmates,” Lucas notices and gets a snort in return. He looks back at Eliott and clamps his mouth shut upon having Eliott’s eyes already glued to him. God, what’s this guy’s deal?

Lucas checks the time and it’s well past 7pm.

“You think they’ll come very late?” Eliott asks.

“Who knows,” Lucas mumbles. That small talk is exhausting, he isn’t sure he can take it much longer. Where’s Arthur and his heart eyes when they are needed?

His phone buzzes and he unlocks the screen. Speak of the devil.

 Arthur: Guys, I completely forgot I promised my grandma to go to a concert with her :/

Basile: my mom flipped and I can’t come either, sorry

Yann: my cousins are over and I can’t skip a family dinner rip

 Lucas’ throat goes dry. All of them fucking cancelled and didn’t even think of informing them earlier. Scratch Lucas calling Eliott irresponsible for ditching the mural appointment. This, right there, is the peak of immaturity. Who even does that?

“So I guess we were ditched,” Eliott comments and it’s only then that Lucas realises he’s pulled his phone out as well and has been reading the messages. He seems upset. That much is obvious, going by the way his lips are curled downwards. He doesn’t even move his eyes towards Lucas, probably expecting him to leave in a second.

And fine, okay, Lucas doesn’t like the guy, he’s got valid reasons, but he isn’t a dick. No, that’s Eliott. He’s seen the way Eliott was anxious to invite them over or how hopeful he was when they all agreed. There are snacks laid out on the table and untouched cans of beer underneath it.

Lucas feels obliged to stay, even if it’s awkward and literally the last thing he wants to do. It’s just that Eliott looks so crestfallen and Lucas would feel guilty leaving him like that.

He unzips his backpack and pulls the bag with weed out. “I guess there’s more for us then?” he asks, hoping he sounds more confident than like he’s forced to do that.

Eliott looks up at him, glances towards the bag and back at Lucas, a tiny smile blooming over his lips.

 ***

 Lucas has expected things to be stilted between them. To smoke one joint and politely leave. And even though, at first there wasn’t any natural flow to their conversation – or at some point no conversation at all – they’ve somehow found themselves lying on the floor of Eliott’s living room, talking about the dumbest shit and giggling at it like a pair of middle schoolers.

They are lying next to each other, but upside down. If Lucas turned his head to the left, his nose would probably brush Eliott’s cheek. He has a brief thought about how it’s similar to a Spiderman kiss and snorts before he takes another drag.

“Hey, I was wondering. Why do you hate me so much?” Eliott asks close to Lucas’ ear.

Lucas splutters. “I don’t hate you. It’s such a strong word. I dislike you.”

Eliott laughs. “Ouch. What did I do?”

“You’re this cool mysterious guy appearing out of nowhere and my friends are instantly up your ass. Go figure.”

Eliott reaches his hand out and flicks Lucas on the nose. “You’re jealous.”

“So what,” he mumbles, tapping the joint against the side of the ashtray.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of, though. These guys love you. Before we met, they’d be like just wait ‘til you meet Lucas, he’s so cool. I was very excited to finally get to know the Lucas.”

Something squeezes at Lucas’ chest and he feels warm all over. “They really said that?” he asks in a small voice.

“Yeah. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d heard a lot about you,” Eliott says, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke at the same time. “I’m just some guy and you’re their buddy. Don’t forget that,” he adds and ruffles Lucas’ hair reassuringly. Lucas doesn’t even pay attention to the fact he doesn’t take his hand back, his fingers staying entangled in the strands of Lucas’ hair.

“I don’t think you’re just a guy. I’m pretty sure Baz would name his firstborn after you and Arthur’s got a crush on you.” He shuts his mouth immediately after uttering the last words. Smoking really makes his brain-to-mouth filter malfunction. What if Eliott doesn’t know and he’s just revealed Arthur’s secret? God, he’s an awful friend.

“What?” Eliott asks, bafflement audible in his voice.

“Nothing, I didn’t say a thing,” Lucas says and chuckles nervously.

“Okay.” Eliott doesn’t sound convinced, but he leaves the topic as it is and Lucas relaxes again. That was close.

 ***

 They smoke, they talk more. And then, Lucas notices a piano standing in one corner of the room and sits up immediately, frowning.

“You play?”

Eliott props himself up on his elbows and looks in the direction Lucas is pointing towards. He takes a sip of his beer and hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes. My mom’s a pianist. She thought I should learn, too. But it’s been so long since I played anything more than the Star Wars theme,” he mumbles, squinting.

Lucas’ pulse speeds up and he excitedly jumps to his feet. “Let’s play,” he says, tugging Eliott up to a standing position. It takes a little effort, but eventually, he succeeds and drags Eliott towards the stool in front of the piano. They sit down. There’s barely enough room for two people and their sides are pressed up against each other but they manage.

Eliott raises the lid up and plays a couple of notes. Lucas joins him on the other side of the keyboard. Whatever they are playing is messy as fuck and Eliott laughs.

“You aren’t an expert either, huh?” he teases.

Lucas doesn’t answer, but lets his fingers find the familiar rhythm and the first notes of the song he’s learned long time ago start playing. He gets deeper and deeper into it, playing out the whole thing. Eliott has long taken his fingers off the keyboard, focusing on the side of Lucas’ face instead. It doesn’t bother Lucas as much as it’d have before, not when he’s trying his best to follow the music.

The song comes to an end, eventually, and then Lucas’s fingers smoothly move over to a melody from some TV ad. He fucks up in the middle which makes Eliott crack up and he tries to help him out. As a result, they create their own chaotic piece accompanied by their cackles. They spend long minutes having fun with the piano and each other and it’s the most enjoyable thing Lucas has done in what feels like weeks.

He retracts his hands to brush his hair away from his forehead and Eliott stops playing as well, his eyes moving away from piano tiles towards Lucas’ face.

“You’re surprising. I like surprising people,” he blurts out, a dreamy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Lucas feels himself blushing and clears his throat. Wow, he needs to drink something.

He stands up and steps towards the couch. Plops down on it, lacking the grace he usually possesses, and grabs a beer for himself. He’s dizzy and warm and drinks half of the beer at once, Eliott’s words echoing in the back of his mind. What did he mean by that?

It doesn’t take long for Eliott to come up to the couch as well and plant himself next to Lucas, their shoulders brushing.

“We should be a piano duet,” he says.

“Yeah, I’ll play complicated songs and you will press on a key once in a while,” Lucas replies, putting his beer down. He turns towards Eliott and finds him watching him back. It shouldn’t be anything to Lucas at this point, but each time their eyes lock, it’s just as nerve-wracking as the first time. Especially that Eliott is so hard to figure out.

“That would be fun,” Eliott says, his eyes falling down on Lucas’ face and then back up. “You’d make it fun,” he slurs.

Lucas bites on the side of his cheek and glances away. Eliott is weird on Fridays and by association, Lucas gets weird as well, that’s the conclusion he reaches. Definitely.

 ***

 The couch feels nice, is comfortable. Much better than the one at his flat. If Lucas could, he’d bury himself deeper into the soft plush.

They haven’t moved ever since their little piano session. It might have happened a minute or one eternity ago. Lucas doesn’t mull over it. He’s chill. Eliott is chill. They’re chill.

“You know, you aren’t that bad,” Lucas admits at some point, his foot repeatedly knocking into Eliott’s ankle.

“Oh, wow, thank you. Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore? Can we be friends?” Eliott asks, his voice airy and doing things to Lucas’ head.

“Sure. But you’re on thin ice.” Let’s hope that sober Lucas doesn’t hate that idea as much as high Lucas loves it. Spending this evening with Eliott has been so good, Lucas can’t quite believe it. No one asked him if he’s okay, looked at him with concern. He could just forget about everything that’s been making him miserable lately. That’s the kind of solace he’s been searching for. And he’s found it in Eliott’s presence. Who would have expected?

“Nice.” Eliott pulls his phone out and whistles. “It’s almost one.”

Lucas has arrived here around 7pm. Oh, how the time flies.

“I should get going.” He tries to sit up but to no avail.

“You can stay. I’ll bring you the sheets. The couch is comfortable to sleep on,” Eliott offers. His tone indicates that he’s speaking from the experience.

Lucas only hesitates for a moment. Staying the night on a Friday night at your new friend’s flat sounds plausible. Normal. And the couch is really fucking soft. “Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll bring the stuff in a moment.”

Lucas hums, feeling his lids growing heavier. He’ll close them for a second. Enough time for Eliott to bring him a pillow and a blanket. Just let them rest for a brief moment.