#on one hand its so hard to control these fuckers and the flow is awkward with scrolling through that damn menu

[waywardsalt]

echoes of wisdom… loz pokemon trainer simulator…

[needleandhammer]

Prism

Pairing: Robert Pronge x Reader; featuring Jake Jensen

Warnings: 18+ only, dark fic, non-con touch, kidnapping, it's Freezy so yeah

Notes: Happy spooky season! I cannot believe the writers I am following have led me onto the Freezy Train 😳

For a year, you worked alongside Jake. He came through your office suite to set up new computers one morning. Designated the unofficial tech responder, you reached out to him often, asked questions politely and endlessly until he resigned himself to visiting your office multiple times per week. Somehow, the two of you ended up having lunch together as he listened to you grumble about coworkers adverse to seeking technological solutions on their own. Then going to happy hour together. Then texting each other; Jake followed your lead until the two of you could speak in memes and emojis.

Your friend abruptly left his job a few months ago. With no response to your text messages, you swallowed down the disappointment of losing touch with a friend when adulting kept your circle so small already. You only hoped he was okay.

Now, after a late night at the office, your coworker Carter lies unconscious in your peripheral. The person responsible for knocking out Carter stalks toward you. You’re scrambling around your desk trying to keep distance between him and you, this stranger with scraggly hair hanging over a pair of thick spectacles.

You’re so startled, mind trying to salvage some kind of escape plan that you haven’t even tried yelling for help. You hurl a solid glass paperweight at him. Air rushes up your throat – a scream working its way out when you see him dodge and strike forward at you. His hands circle your wrist, you’re yanked against him and a painful blow to the base of your neck sends you sinking into blackness.

---

You wake with a start. Where are you?

Your hands roam, grasping lightly across your body in search of any new injuries while you breathe past the lingering pain at the back of your head. At least it wasn’t bleeding. Assured that you were able to stand and move with relative ease, you’re on your feet and tiptoeing to the door of the bedroom. Your shoes are gone, dammit.

You swallow hard, breathing deep against grogginess and the aching pulse at the base of your skull. That fucker isn’t here so you need to act.

Go out that door.

Wait. You need something. A weapon. Anything.

A shaky breath forces your stark fear at bay as you look around the room. You make it to the open closet door.

A pink color halts you physically and mentally. Pink. You collapse to your knees and grasp at the cotton fabric. The word printed on the pink shirt triggers a breathless sob that you can’t control.

Petunias

Oh gods, did this deranged man kidnap Jake too? What can he possibly want with you and your friend? Is Jake in some kind of trouble? Questions bombard your mind, tangling into nothing that makes sense. Your head aches. Your limbs feel weak. Has it been long enough that your body has weakened from lack of nourishment?

Beneath another shirt, you discover a scraggly object. It’s chestnut colored, wavy strands that sends a creeping shivering down your spine. You quickly drop the Petunias t-shirt over it, as if to hide some vile creature from sight, and peer around the room again.

Damn it. No light décor or metal objects you can arm yourself with. You’ll have to be quick.

The door gives a creak when you swing it open, revealing a small galley kitchen.

Your heart skips – dread douses you – you freeze when you see the figure standing opposite you at the far end of this small building. He turns, arms falling from the curtained window, to look at you.

You reel backward; your hands reach and claw for something, anything that might help you in this horrible circumstance.

Right back where you started. You made it barely a foot out of your prison.

Your captor descends upon you. You shriek, push and shove against him but his weight follows you, presses you down on the bed.

His palm stifles your cries while he easily restrains you.

“Awake are we?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to hear his voice. You close your eyes. You don’t want to look at him – afraid that your eyes are deceiving you.

He tsks. “Don’t be a brat. We can make this part quick.”

Growling, you shake his hand away and snap at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? Let me go.”

He scoffs at the additional impolite names you call him.

Panting, you glare at him. “What do you want?”

“You gonna play nice?”

You try to headbutt him.

He sighs in irritation.

Your wrists are snuggly wrapped and tied to one bed post. You lean away from him as much as possible where you sit on a corner of the mattress, cutting him with a glare.

He still hasn’t answered you. That cold dread weighs down in your gut as you force another question out.

“What did you do to Jake?”

“Jake?” His smile grows.

“Don’t play with me! That’s his shirt. He – he has a family. His sister and niece, they’re…” Your words die on your lips as he starts laughing.

“Oh, sugar,” he says with a fond look your way. “Time to break the bad news to you. Your buddy Jake is…Well, you wanna take a guess?”

“You hurt him?”

The cold smile does not waver. You swallow down the lump in your throat. You already know the answer.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hanging,” he purrs at you, waiting for your next guess.

You’re not ready to accept it, despite the tangible evidence in front of you. Despite the bright t-shirt lying in the closet. Covering the brunette wig. It can’t be true.

This man’s face, his nose, his lips. You feel like you’re going mad as you keep being pulled back to those blue eyes. The glasses are gone; you can see his full brows, the aquamarine of his irises. That laugh that sounded wrong, even though the tenor flows through you in familiar waves.

His hair is now a natural deep brown. It's shorter, lacking the gel that previously held it up in blonde spikes. The wig must have just been a precaution for when he showed up at your office. And his facial hair is grown out more evenly and that alone could have transformed the man you thought you knew.

He disappeared months ago.

You study his eyes – you know their exact color – and recognize the mirth glinting beneath dark lashes. But your heart starts racing when his signature crooked smile doesn’t appear. Instead, a hard smirk twists his face into a stranger.

“Jake…” Maybe you hope invoking his name as you know it will make this all go away - will make the world make sense again. Maybe you want to cling to an impossible salvation.

He scoffs softly, a quiet murmur of your name on his lips, almost remorseful. Almost.

“The name’s Robert.”

Gone is the awkward, clumsy colleague you had grown close to. The man you formed a slow companionship with during late office hours sharing fast food while ranting about administration or complaining about the local asshole that stood at the corner of your block shouting right-wing rhetoric to people trying to get to work.

Gone is Jake Jensen, the cute nerd you called friend.

Robert Pronge closes in, looms before you. His fingers skim your jawline before he grips your face tight, deliberate.

“I couldn’t leave you behind,” he says, dipping even closer so his lips graze your cheek. You grow stiff at the gentle affection. His grip loosens enough that you can drop your gaze.

“I…d-don’t know you.” You don’t know this man. “I don’t.”

Robert watches as you press your forehead to your hands. He supposes it’s normal - you haven’t arrived at acceptance of reality yet. Your frame clenches with stress, the physiological response to danger. Robert has witnessed this countless times with countless hits.

A breathy chuckle tickles your skin. He knew you well enough at this point. “You’re a smart one, sugar.”

“No, no, no…”

“And you know now that ole Jake Jensen. Never existed.”

Faced with this man’s remorseless confession, you steel yourself for the inevitable.

“Are you – are you going to kill me?” You raise your eyes. You'll look at this man's face one last time, you won't be deceived in your final moments.

That dark chuckle returns.

“You think I risked showing up in town just for a quick kill?"

He cages you in, enclosing you between arms thick with muscle.

"No, sugar. Wouldn’t wanna waste a sweet thing like you.”

His mouth is on yours and for several seconds, the heated, hungry pressure stuns you. Confuses you. You squawk at the sensation of him probing for a deeper taste, and start twisting out of his hold.

Strong fingers tighten in your hair and make you whimper in pain, stilling enough for his tongue to delve into your mouth.

A quiet moan of satisfaction rumbles through Robert when he accesses the hot taste of you for the first time.

Robert decided long ago. Once his mask is peeled back – that blonde, chirpy mask – he’s taking you as his. And he’ll make sure you get to know the real him intimately.

------------------------------------------

A/N: Hurrah! I have been wanting to write a Jekyll and Hyde inspired fic for a while. Tis the season and all, so I present to you all: "Jensen and Pronge." muahahaha. I am trying to plan this out as a multipart fic. 😏 I'm gonna try to make this soft!dark bc that's the kind of shit I'm into.

[masalvas-girl]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝘿𝙖𝙮 (𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙄𝙄𝙄)

You can read part 1 here and part 2 here. Hope you like this! Tell me if you want a fourth part please. 

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹

𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂, 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝔂

     It was a rainy night. Juliet could hear the gentle whisper of rain hitting the window. Carlos was lying down awake beside her, and oh god, she was exhausted. Juliet was looking at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts, when she felt his hand caress her right naked thigh. She turned to see him and moved a little bit towards him, just to rest her head and part of her chest on his. Hearing the smooth beat of his heart was her favorite thing to do after, well, after having a long session of cardio with him. Carlos had always been a very generous lover, and that night was no exception. He fucked her like no one else had before.

     —I love you. Did you know that? —the sound of his serene voice and the rain mixed together like a song. These were the moments she loved the most, when they shared their intimacy without any external pressures or awkward interruptions. Sometimes, it seemed like his boss and work mates adored ruining certain moments.    

     —I was just starting to suspect it —he rolled his eyes even though they weren´t looking at eachother and laughed. Juliet laughed too, and started playing with his chest hair, which was located on his well-defined pectoral area, and also on the inferior part of his bellybutton, a.k.a ¨happy trail¨. Juliet loved it. A fine coat of sweat covered his skin making it glisten under the light of that old yellow bulb. She couldn´t be more in love—. Joking! You know I love you too… a lot —she turned her head and looked intensely at his dark eyes while she lowered her hand slowly, touching every part his body which looked like it belonged to a Greek God. All the time he had spent away exercising really paid off well.

      —God, you never get tired, do you? My little love-machine, you never let me rest —he placed a kiss on her lips that got more intense with every passing second. Carlos loved kissing her soft cherry-red lips, and she never complained about it. The young woman sat on him, just above his lower abdomen, and tied her long wavy dark hair on a high pigtail.          

     —It´s your fault for being so damn handsome —she whispered to his ear and that was the final trigger for Carlos. He started tracing wet kisses all over her jaw, neck and collarbones. Little moans escaped her parted lips, and he nibbled against her hot skin.

    —I should go grab a condom before this gets worse, I left 'em in the bathroom —Juliet let out a quick chuckle, hearing the despair in his voice was a weird form of compliment. She got off Carlos and he got up quickly. The sight of his body only covered in a pair of black boxers was so delightful that she didn´t mind the interruption it represented.

     Everything was perfect and normal as usual, until he suddenly stopped and took a step back. Carlos´ hands started trembling and he staggered. He turned around to see Juliet from the foot of the bed. At first she thought he was joking, but out of the blue he coughed up a serious amount of blood. His skin started turning to a grey, dead-like color. He let himself drop violently to his knees, and Juliet got out of bed and ran towards him.

     —Carlos! What the fuck is going on?! —she repeated his name over and over again, but he didn´t seem to listen. He was now starting to look like a decayed corpse, and Juliet felt a paralyzing horror pumping through her veins. She touched his back, and he raised his head in her direction aggressively. His eyes appeared to be blind and with the animal snarl he gave, she noticed that now Carlos had really sharp teeth. Juliet´s legs failed her and she fell suddenly on her backside. He began crawling slowly towards her.

     —Take my gun —he said with difficulty between painful groans, as if he was fighting something inside him—… End this, please…

     Juliet reached frantically under the bed; she could feel her heartbeat rumbling in her ears and her body was turning cold with adrenaline. He was getting closer and when she thought it was too late, the feel of cold steel greeted her hand and she took it out. It was Carlos´ Pistol G18. She pointed it at him, grabbing the gun with both her trembling hands because of its weight, and from his left eye, a slow tear came out. She couldn´t do it. She lowered the gun, giving up all type of self-defense, and he jumped straight to her, losing any sense of humanity. She was incapable of shooting the man she loved.

     Everything turned black.

      𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰...                 

     She woke up with a violent jolt the moment Carlos jumped up at her. It was just another stupid nightmare. Why did she keep dreaming about him though? Oh, of course… She missed him like hell, and those dreams that turned into nightmares were no strange to her anymore. Juliet felt heaviness inside of her every time she thought about him, and she was sick of having those dreams. She covered her face with her hands; trying to shake up the sensation that awful nightmare had given her.  

     She removed her hands and held them in the air in front of her face for a little bit. They were shaking just like in her dream, and she had some cuts in her palms that she didn´t remember. Juliet couldn´t tell whether it was day or night because of where she was. That fucking closet that was so small she barely fitted in it, but now, it was the safest place. Or at least that´s what she told herself. She stretched and turned on the light without having to stand up. The lights blinded her, and she squeezed her eyes. Once they got accustomed to the light, she took her vision to her leg. The little pool of blood was still there, but at least her leg wasn´t bleeding anymore. When she took away the fabric piece she had cut from an old t-shirt to serve as a bandage, she was able to inspect the damage that was done in her calf.

     The laceration had to be at least 2.75 inches long and it didn’t look too wide, but it had to get medical examination, which seemed a little impossible in the middle of fucking apocalypse. Juliet took that same t-shirt she had made the first bandage with, and repeated the process... Tying up that motherfucker was seriously painful, but it stopped the bleeding successfully. She had to bite down on the rest of the t-shirt that was left, and the woman frowned hard when the piece of fabric adhered to her open wound.   

     She lied down again on the hard ground, with her mind drifting away from reality. What was the point of going on? Her family was possibly dead already, and Carlos was way long gone. She closed her eyes, mentally and physically tired, but she was afraid of falling asleep and having another one of those dreams. Tears started flowing without control from her eyes. Why didn´t she warn everyone when she had the chance? She was scared of looking completely nuts to everybody like she did to Carlos. Now all of those deaths fell upon her shoulders. And she wasn’t strong enough to carry that weight.  

     Juliet looked at her right and she saw that her combat knife and Desert Eagle were still there. Daddy had taught her well on how to defend herself, and she proved it when Mrs. Jones had pounced on her, almost taking a big bite from her neck. Poor thing, ended up with her brains blown out. And Juliet still couldn´t process it. It felt like she was in one of her twisted nightmares, but no, sadly, that was Raccoon City´s reality. All thanks to Umbrella. Fuckers.

     She was starting to fall asleep again when she heard some distant noises inside her apartment, silent steps. Juliet opened her eyes wide, and her heart skipped a beat. She made sure she closed all the doors and the windows. Perhaps they were capable of opening doors too? If they were, it seemed that the smell of blood really attracted those monsters... 

.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .   .   .    .

    It didn’t take long for Carlos to reach the building of apartments were Juliet used to live. So many thoughts and memories came to his mind when he located the phone booth which was at the counter corner of the building. Some months ago he would dial up Juliet´s phone number from that phone booth and look at her window just in case she peeked a look to the street. But that never happened. Now, that window was dark and it looked sinister and empty. The whole city looked like that. Dead.

    Entering the place wasn’t that complicated. The doors weren´t locked and all the zombies that had been wandering inside had already been killed, but he was still careful with every movement he made. Carlos took the elevator to the floor number five, and when he arrived he saw what was left of Juliet´s favorite neighbor resting against a wall. He felt nauseous, as he had known that old lady very well, and now he had seen her with her head blown off. The whole place was a bloodbath, and still, no sign of Juliet. He reached her door, which was locked with key. Luckily, he had his lock pick at a hand's reach. Carlos was skilled and it took him no time to open the white door.

      Inside, everything was just how he remembered it. The arrangements of furniture, the color of the walls, even the fucking hole in the wall of the hall he had made once by accident. The only thing that was missing was her. He took a step to get in, and instantly noticed he had stepped on something sticky. The dark-haired man lowered his head to check what it was, and he realized it was coagulated blood. Carlos started to get worried. What if she had been infected and now was walking around the apartment in the form of a cannibal zombie perfectly capable of hurting him? Or even worst, what if she was still in the process of converting? Carlos knew the virus could be awfully slow. He knew that if he found Juliet like that it would be so horribly painful and traumatic having to kill her. He even doubted he had the balls to do such thing. But it was too late, and he couldn’t leave just like that. Carlos tried to keep the hopes up of finding her alive and well.

        He followed the dark trace of blood that led him to her bedroom, and then, to her closet. He could taste the iron in his own mouth. He reached for the door knob, and twisted it ever so slowly. Once it was completely open, he swung the door open quickly. Carlos found her curled up in the farest corner of the small closet, pointing her gun with unstable hands at him. When they recognized eachother, they let out a loud relieve sigh at the same time. She dropped both her hands at her sides, and her face softened up. It looked like she had been crying. Juliet got up and walked the short distance that separated them. He noticed that the girl had a limp and an improvised bandage around her right calf. That could explain all the blood. Was it a bite?

     —Carlos! My God, you are alive! —She held him tight between her arms, so much that she almost choked him, and he never thought a simple embrace could feel so comforting.

     —Of course I am alive! I had to come and get you out of here —he left his gun drop to the ground and held her just as tight around her waist.

     —I told you to never come back —she stepped away after a long time of hugging, she started cleaning the tears of relief away from her face. He remembered how Juliet didn´t like it when people saw her crying. Not even in the middle of an apocalypse.

     —You know I'm real stubborn, honey.     

[sunsetscurving]

CHASING STARS

Ch. 7

ao3 link

In a world where reincarnation is common and expected, people stopped to care for a reason or how many times they already lived – they have no memory of their past life anymore.

But Lucas Lallemant can feel that this isn’t his first life, some shreds of his former life still present in his new one. He has this feeling that something from his past life tied him so much to it that he has to find it again in his new life.

Something. Or someone.

“Do you trust me?”

Lucas held the helmet in his hands, looking at Eliott who was eyeing Lucas’ bike skeptically.

“I’m not sure, to be honest…”

“I won’t drive into a pole this time, I promise”, said Lucas with a laugh, pressing a second helmet into Eliott’s hand and swinging one leg over the machine, shifting into the seat so that Eliott could take place behind him. They wanted to go to a coffee in Eliott’s neighborhood and since Lucas came with his bike, it was only logical that he would take Eliott with him.

“How are you so sure about that?”, said Eliott now, looking at the helmet in his hands while turning it around several times as if some secret was hidden in it.

Because the pretty boy on the balcony who distracted me will sit behind me now.

Lucas bit his lip, stopping his stupid self from spilling those words out for everyone to hear them. It was embarrassing enough that only Eliott’s appearance made him lose control over his bike.

“I’m usually a good driver”, said Lucas now, satisfied with this answer.

“It didn’t look like that to me.”

How dares he!?

Lucas’ inner protest could apparently be seen on his face now since Eliott’s lips turned into a smirk while he was slowly stepping closer to Lucas, his gaze wandering over his whole body.

Is he fucking checking me out?

For once, he was glad to own a bike with which he apparently looked hot, according to his friends.

Lucas was now tilting his head to one side, challenging Eliott with that look while slowly putting on the helmet. A smirk appeared on Lucas’ face now too, an idea forming in his head with which he surely would get Eliott onto his bike.

“Or…”, started Lucas slowly, “Are you just… afraid?”

“Me? Afraid?” Eliott’s voice was higher pitched now with offence, raising his eyebrows instantly, “I’m not afraid.”

“You are. Or you don’t want to be close to me. I cannot think of other reasons why you wouldn’t drive with me.”

Lucas wanted to take back these words in the moment he said them. He slapped himself imaginary, once, twice. He couldn’t make it more obvious now why he was so eager to drive with Eliott, to take him for a ride on his bike.

Or you don’t want to be close to me. Wow, fucking congratulations, Lucas.

Eliott was staring into Lucas’ eyes now, the only thing visible from his face with the helmet on. Lucas was glad that Eliott couldn’t see his blushing cheeks, the embarrassment written all over his face this way. He acted like a love-drunk idiot and he hated himself for that. The only thing left now would be some drooling over the intense stare with which Eliott looked at Lucas now. But something in Eliott had changed as Lucas said these awkward words, some stubbornness could be seen on the other boy’s face and before Lucas could desperately think of something to say to smoothen the rising tension, Eliott suddenly put on his helmet, sitting down behind Lucas in a flowing motion.

Lucas heart was starting to beat faster, again, as Eliott slowly wrapped his arms around Lucas’ waist, shifting closer to Lucas and holding onto him tightly as if his life depended on it.

Don’t interpret too much in it. He’s mainly afraid that you could kill him.

“Are you happy now, biker boy?”, said Eliott with his voice being near to Lucas’ face.

And Lucas was smiling, his mouth covered by his helmet. He started to motor, turning his head a little to the side to be closer to Eliott this way.

“Very.”

And with a howl of his bike, he took off, Eliott clinging onto him.

This is going to be a good afternoon.

.

“So, what would you like to have? I’m inviting you.”

“No, Eliott, I don’t—”

Eliott lifted a hand and stopped Lucas’ uprising protest through that, Lucas pressing his lips together in an effort not to say something nevertheless.

“I asked you out for this date and that’s why I’m also paying for it.”

Date, date, date.

He was really having a date with the hottest dude on college. Lucas smiled slightly to himself, thinking about all the jealous girls and boys who would change places with him in a heartbeat now. But this was his moment, his date, his little hours of joy.

“If you insist…”

“I do”, said Eliott while flashing Lucas that beautiful smile which made Lucas’ knees kind of weak.

Eliott was holding the door open for Lucas and Lucas smiled at him, slightly blushing at how much of a gentleman Eliott was. The others only thought of him as weird because they didn’t know about him. And everything which was unknown to the human beings was weird.

Lucas was scanning the card, already knowing exactly what he wanted. But before he could open his mouth, his mind started to think. If he would order his usual drink, Eliott would maybe think of him as some kind of child. No, Lucas wanted to look grown-up and mature and so he would just take the most disgusting thing ever – a big black coffee. The fucking things he did for Eliott.

“I’ll take—”

“A big hot chocolate with cream and cinnamon on top of it.”

Lucas slowly turned his head to Eliott, staring at him with widened eyes.

Are you fucking kidding me, bro?

Eliott was still looking at the card, slightly chewing at his lips while doing so. It seemed like he said all of this without even really noticing and Lucas…

Lucas was shocked.

“How… How do you know this?”, stuttered Lucas. He never told him about his big weakness for hot chocolate with cream and a pinch of cinnamon on it, he never told him that he was disgusted by coffee.

“What—”

Eliott was now turning his head towards Lucas and he froze as he suddenly seemed to realize what he just said. What Lucas just said.

“How do you know that I would like to have this exact drink? I never told you about it.”

Lucas saw some kind of panic flashing over Eliott’s face, the other one trying to hide his emotion immediately. But Lucas saw it and he wouldn’t unseen it.

“I – I don’t know, you just seemed like the hot chocolate kind of guy to me.”

Eliott was rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he asked Lucas out for this date, apparently being nervous. Lucas was still confused, now even more. This was definitely the worst excuse he’s ever heard.

“I’ll go and order for us, okay? You can already find a table for us”, Eliott said with a quick smile while nearly fleeing from Lucas. Lucas still couldn’t believe that Eliott just guessed his preferred drink and he squinted after Eliott, his mind working hard on finding a solution for all of this.

Maybe Yann was right.

Maybe Eliott really was a mystery after all.

.

“So, how is it to be the son of a famous politician?”

Lucas rolled as his eyes at this typical question and laughed, taking a sip from his hot chocolate while Eliott was watching him the whole time. He got himself a big cup of coffee and Lucas still couldn’t understand how people could drink this beverage of a devil.

“It has its benefits, to be honest.”

“Such as…”

“Such as the big parties and the alcohol for free.”

Eliott snorted at this, looking into the cup of his coffee and Lucas smirked, enjoying the view he had.

“What about you, Eliott? A lot of things are being told about you…”

“Such as…?”

Eliott raised his eyebrows and Lucas chuckled quietly.

“I’ve heard that you’ve been on this college for over 10 years. I’ve heard that people think you are actually a murderer.”

Eliott looked at him with wide eyes, not quite believing what Lucas just told him. And Lucas laughed because he couldn’t believe all of that shit either. But if he could tell Yann and the others about this conversation, about the truth of it all, maybe they would finally accept that fact that Lucas was slowly but surely falling for that boy in front of him.

“Yeah, I know, it’s ridicu—”

“Well, maybe the people are right.”

Lucas froze midsentence frowned. Eliott was leaning forward now, his breath already grazing Lucas’ cheek while looking straight into his eyes, being close to Lucas’ own face now.

“Maybe I’m a murderer and I just want to seduce you so that killing you will be even easier.”

“You’re doing a great job in seducing me”, said Lucas quietly, his voice sounding strange in his own ears and he couldn’t actually believe what he just said. The moment where he wanted to slap him and again and again was here again.

Eliott took Lucas’ answer with a grinning face, reaching out and taking a strand of Lucas’ hair in his fingers, watching the mess which was Lucas’ hair as if it was something special.

“You’re not like everyone, Lucas Lallemant”, said Eliott quietly and his gaze shifted to Lucas’ eyes now. Lucas was sure that Eliott could hear his beating heart and he was also sure that Eliott knew what he did to him.

What a little fucker he is. Taking advantage of young, lovesick boys like this.

“Can I take this as a compliment?”, asked Lucas quietly, not daring to shift in his seat or the move at all because he was afraid that Eliott would stop touching him then.

God, what the fuck is wrong with you, Lucas. You’ve never been lovestruck.

But he never met a person like Eliott before, too.

Eliott smirked.

“You can.”

.

“Thank you for bringing me home”, said Eliott with a smile after Lucas took his helmet off, running his fingers through his hair. He was aware that Eliott watched him while doing so, stretching out his movements to a slow-motion version of his usual action.

I can also play this game, Demaury.

“Of course. The next time, it’s your turn”, said Lucas while smirking and leaning the bike against a pole. He was strolling to where Eliott was standing, taking position in front of him now and looking up into his eyes which were sparkling with light.

“And thank you for inviting me for the coffee… I—” Lucas stopped now, the confidence he had just gathered turning to dust again. If he would tell Eliott now that he would like to do this again, Eliott would maybe think of him as creepy or maybe he didn’t want to have another date with him or—

“I would love to do this again sometime”, said Eliott now and Lucas’ doubts disappeared immediately, leaving Lucas with a warm feeling of happiness and anticipation.

“Me too”, he said and didn’t try to hide the bright smile on his lips. Yann and the other boys would never understand how it was to finally find someone who was on the same level as you. And Lucas didn’t want to give up this feeling anytime soon.

“Well… I’m gonna go inside”, said Eliott and was still watching Lucas, only looking up to eye the building behind him, “Stay safe.”

Lucas nodded and was about to turn around as Eliott’s hand wrapped itself around Lucas’ wrist. Lucas froze, looking back to Eliott with his big, blue eyes and something in Eliott’s eyes seemed to… move. So many emotions were written all over his face that Lucas couldn’t grasp all of them – he was merely fascinated by the feelings rushing over the other boy’s face and he felt something stirring inside of him, something which never really was awake at all. Lucas’ gaze wandered from Eliott’s eyes unconsciously to Eliott’s lips. They were full and tinted in a light pink. And he could see from the corner of his eyes, that Eliott was watching Lucas’ lips too.

Come on, Eliott… Do it…

Lucas’ eyes jerked up again as he saw Eliott moving, the taller boy slowly leaning down so that he was even closer to Lucas. Lucas’ lips parted on their own accord, his pulse nearly drumming in his own ears and he couldn’t believe what was just about to happen.

Do it, do it, do it, do it…

But suddenly, Eliott took another strand of Lucas’ hair between his fingers, letting the hair slide through his fingers.

“Salut.”

Eliott smiled, turned around and left, going inside his house. Lucas was gaping after him, being alone on the pavement now, the longing for the other boy still present in his every vein.

Lucas was alone, completely confused and with lips which just wanted to be kissed by Eliott.