#chtr

Inglorious Roommates / Chapter 15

“Look at me, Theo.”

Watching the way Theo went stiff in response, Liam's eyes rimmed with burning wetness.

“Please,” his voice fell pathetically to a brittle whisper, “Can't you look at me?”

Theo's hands gripped the edge of the desk, his body strung tight enough to split the wood.

“Why, so you can lie to my face again?”

Inglorious Roommates // Chapter 7

“When my mind is quiet... I just get so scared that it's gonna go dark, and I'm so afraid of losing control that I feel like a match in a goddamn minefield all the time, except when—”

The fierceness in his voice left him breathless, “It's like you settle me, Theo.”

Just because Liam seemed to float through life on a ray of sunshine, didn't give Theo the right to assume he'd never touched the ground, or been through the mud or tasted dirt before and God, Theo was dead wrong.

Inglorious Roommates // Chapter 11

Theo expected pain.

He expected violence.

Not the devastatingly gentle collision of Liam's body against his.

It was like he finally found the warmth he was searching for. Not inside a stranger's mouth or at the bottom of a liquor bottle. It was right there, in the one place Theo didn't belong.

“Just do it...” He whispered harshly against Liam's shoulder, “Please, Liam.”

Rather than delivering the killing blow that Theo yearned for, Liam wrapped his arms tighter around him, just holding Theo while they stood underneath the shower raining down on them.

Inglorious Roommates // Chapter 14

No surprise, carnivals weren't really Theo’s scene, but next to him, Liam was just radiating in all the amusement. Eyes beaming at the twinkling glow of the lights and neon signs in the sunset. Soaking in the sickeningly sweet aromas of deep fried Oreos, fresh kettle corn and funnel cakes.

Liam tipped his head back and marveled at the ferris-wheel, and Theo watched the bright lights dancing across his wonderstruck face, thinking maybe carnivals weren't all that terrible.

Inglorious Roommates / Chapter 4

Theo ran a flustered hand through his hair, “If you blackout, I'm not dragging your ass back to the dorm.”

Eyes half-lidded, Liam wore a pathetic version of his usual spot-on smirk, “My ass is well taken care of. Don't worry your pretty head, Raeken.”

“You’re trashed.”

Liam was a mess, blue eyes hazed over in the corner of this crowded party, with stray rose petals sticking to his ruffled hair and the black sheer of his shirt draped low on his chest.

“You need to work on your sweet talk,” Liam slurred.

Nothing but a pretty mess.