( #001 ) LOVE MARKED

[chatona]

(inspired by this tumblr post. )

Comments

surprise motherfucker

[broil]

[He's on his bed again. Time to read some book because class dictated he should, and - well, would you look at that, he's actually complying.

Boredom quickly takes him, though. The thing is flapped shut just before he drops it on the mattress and leans back to run a hand through honey-gold hair. He thinks about going into the bathroom to make sure his roots aren't showing yet, but then he just decides he doesn't care. He's just bored.

Where's John?]

timeline is whotf knows.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[He's coming back from class, that's where he is. He pushes the door open, slings his bag onto his bed, then looks up at Petre with a very "oh. you." expression.]

Do you ever do anything? Or just laze around in here all day like you're - laying in wait or something.

[Really. It's creepy.]

welcome to the real au world

[broil]

Roomie.

[Finally. an oasis in this wasteland

He's lying on his back with his eyes on the ceiling, but his head rolls to the side to look at John.]

They gave me homework, Johnny. And I was actually trying.

i think this one is early-ish. it feels that way.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

The hero this school deserves.

[His eyeroll is truly epic as he pulls off his hoodie and hangs in on one of the two coathooks on the door, leaving behind a plain white t-shirt that he has to tug and smooth down a bit. A lot of the older students here wear long sleeves even in the heat of summer because of what they might or might not reveal, but John and Petre are two that have no secrets - Petre because he's never loved anyone, as far as John would guess and his arm reveals, and John because he's simply got a pale white scar that immediately shuts up anyone who might want to ask.

He doesn't know if Petre's ever noticed his scar. Sometimes Petre looks at him quite closely, more closely than he likes - it's better than the touching, anyway, if by a slim margin - but not usually at an odd spot like his wrist.]

How bad's the damage, anyway? [He walks over, trying to get a look at the book. What class?]

[broil]

[True. Usually Petre has no difficulty spotting details about people, especially if that means they'll leave them flustered. Humiliated, if that's what he's going for instead. In John's case he's managed to escape with that mark because it's pale on his skin. It doesn't take a lot for it to blend in, so he leaves it be. Until now.]

History.

[A bored remark as he frowns. He sits up, reaches for John's wrist and pulls it towards him. Forces him to turn it up and traces the scar with his finger.]

That's new.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[This touch, more than any other, feels like an invasion, because the mark may be open for anyone to see but not to touch. That mark is a person. And it's someone Petre has nothing to do with.]

You're just blind. [He tugs hard against the grip, trying to pull his hand away.]

[broil]

[He lets John go, shows him both hands like he's totally overreacting when Petre obviously means no harm.]

Guess so. How old is it?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Three years. [He purses his lips irritably at Petre's display of surrender, then turns away to walk to his own bed and stretch out on it.] Like you even know what love is when you're fourteen. The thing's defective.

[Like he has any idea now.]

[broil]

Only as defective as you are.

[He pulls up his own sleeves, wiggles his fingers to show John his own wrists. Nothing on either one. He's squeaky clean, even from his past.]

How about those who've got nothing?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

You're smart. [Very, very dry, and immediately followed with:] Or a sociopath. And I hate having to compliment you.

[His hand is over his wrist now, almost protective after having Petre touch it.]

[broil]

[There's a little laugh, and he lowers his arms again.]

And apparently I had no childhood. But we all knew that.

Think there's hope for me yet?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

If there is, I pity the target already.

[Hahaha. Foreshadowing.]

I mean, I dunno. Ever been close? Had a near-miss, a maybe?

[broil]

Nope. I never stick around to find out.

[And he looks so proud of it, too.]

I thought you did the same.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Some people are persistent.

[The tone of his voice is a door slamming in Petre's face, but he feels pretty confident that a foot will get wedged in there anyway.]

[broil]

[he'll be like kool-aid all up on your door, John.]

Persistent doesn't cover it.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Cover what? I don't owe you anything.

[And he goes for line two of defense, rolling to face the wall. it's usually just as effective.]

[broil]

I don't just take what's due for me.

[John should know that. Petre takes what he wants.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[A bitter little growl rumbles in his throat.]

Just tell me now. Are you gonna get this out of me whether I want to or not?

[broil]

That's the thing - I'm going to make you want it.

[no power included, which only makes it so much more fun.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Like hell you will. [His shoulders roll a bit, body tightening in on itself even more.] Just force it out or give up, your choice.

[broil]

Is that how you'd rather do it?

[He gets up, walks on over to brush a finger on John's ear. Make him twitch.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[He does twitch, of course, whipping his head around to glare daggers at Petre.]

I don't want to do it at all. That's the whole point. I loved someone and they died, it's not shit you just chat about with your "roomie."

[broil]

Why not? I'm all ears.

[ha, ha. get it.]

Have you told anyone?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[He finally sits up again at that, nearly giving off physical plumes of smoke, he's so furious.]

Because it hurts to lose someone you love Petre. Pain. Imagine getting punched in the face. Then stick that right in your chest and twist it up into a knot. That's emotional pain. I know it's hard, but just try to imagine it.

[And then, more quietly:]

No. Of course not.

[broil]

[He doesn't openly laugh in John's face, but the grin is still there. Watching him like a parent watching children play. It's the natural order of things.]

Good. Pain means you're alive. No matter what kind it is.