#marstonov

Luca shoved open the door to the classroom, his battered army green backpack resting on one trench coat covered shoulder as he walked into the room with a purpose. He nodded at a few students he knew as he strode towards a wooden seat in the back of the classroom. As often as the blonde teenager spent afternoons and weekends in detention, the chair practically had his name on it. Maybe it should have his name on it. He dropped his bag and flopped down into the seat, immediately leaning back to take in the room.

Zagan. Dorian. A few kids from Chemistry class. Many students whose names he didn’t know and didn’t care. His eyes took in every single one before coming to rest on a new addition to the motley crew. The kid looked familiar and the letterman jacket on the back of his seat told Luca everything he needed to know. A jock. Probably a fucking asshole. But something about him made Luca attentive, interested, confused. Probably just the fact that there were never jocks in here. God forbid the popular crowd ever have to be punished.

Mr. Richardson sat in the front of the class speaking while Luca closed his eyes and considered the number of hours until he could get outside for a smoke. He’d heard the spiel a thousand times and wasn’t about to pay any attention to it this time. Don’t leave the room. Don’t talk to anyone else. Do your homework. All three rules that Luca had every intention to break as soon as possible.

His eyes flit back around the room, resting on the jock from earlier. Luca shook his head and turned away, reaching into his backpack for his iPod. He pulled the headphones out and shoved them into his ears, grabbing a notebook next. As Mr. Richardson went back to grading papers, Luca flipped a pocket knife out of his boot and went to work, carving his name into the desk, using the notebooks as cover.

He knew it wouldn’t be long before the teacher stepped outside. He hated it in the room almost as much as most of the students did. Then the fun could start. And maybe he could manage to smoke a cigarette before he came back. Luca said nothing and continued making headway on the wooden desk, an L making an appearance. He looked up every now and then to see if anyone was paying attention to him, feigning disinterest if the answer was yes.

“Looks like it’s just you and me left,” Luca said, a flicker of some emotion in his eye as he stared down Valor, taking in his blue eyes and blonde hair once again. Luca had never been the type to talk about how he felt and this was to be no exception. With the entire arena down to the two males, Luca wasted no time in shoving Valor into the nearest tree, his fingers finding purchase on his skin and touching him in ways he’d dreamed about for days.

Luca spoke again, this time without that spark of emotion, “I’m sorry.” Then he was pressing his lips onto Valor’s, tasting the sweat and salt of exhaustion that clung there. He saw a question in Valor’s eyes but it fell away as the two clung to each other, lips to lips, chest to chest, groin to groin. Luca took in the taste of the other male, eyes closing for a moment.

“What?” Valor spit out as Luca pulled away, his long hunting knife in hand, covered in crimson. Valor fell forward, a gush of blood coming from his chest as his heart beat out the last beats it would ever allow.

“I’m sorry,” Luca said again, but his words were drowned out by a noise that seemed to take over everything. He fell to his knees, bloody hands in cotton hair. “I’m sorry,” he screamed, trying to show how much he meant it as the victor was congratulated.

@livingdeadwriter

Luca walked down the block, head down, face covered. The mask covered his fair features and painted a face of darkness. For 364 days a year, the blonde boy kept his monster stuffed in his body, but tonight was the exception. He wore his monster on his face, a reminder to everyone out there that he was dangerous. That he would not hold back. And if they still wanted to be in his view?

Well, they'd just have to be killed, wouldn't they?

Pink lips lifted into a smirk and Luca watched the road ahead, hoping for someone to cross his path. Someone who would be a challenge. Be fun. Someone like -

His eyes darted to a figure in a hoodie, a figure that was racing down toward an alleyway. The fear was palpable and he could almost taste it.

"Round one begins," he said, a spring in his step. The first one was always the most fulfilling and the first one was going to be the male in front of him, with fear in his heart and skinny jeans on his thighs. Luca was ready for it.

Luca waited for the alarm to go off. The alarm that rang at the beginning of the Purge. He waited because there were rules. He waited because success was that more sweet.

Luca watched the boy sleeping in his bed, as if watching him would stop the feelings bubbling up in his chest. He was another boy, albeit a pretty one, a conquest finally conquered and that should be it. His sleeping body wrapped up in his eight hundred thread count sheets shouldn’t be causing his mouth to get dry and his heart to beat in his chest. Luca grabbed his water bottle and tugged off the cap, taking a giant mouthful that he swallowed down his dry throat. He looked away, because he couldn’t keep his blue eyes focused on the boy’s blonde hair under the sunlight that was shining in from the window. He hopped out of bed, quickly, his bare feet padding to the bathroom.

He stared at himself, bloodshot eyes and darkened lips from too much kissing throughout the night. “The fuck are you doing, Kharitonov?” he sneered at himself before he laughed. He turned on the tap and splashed water in his face. That’s when he heard a creak and turned, taking in the presence of the boy from the night before, leaning against the doorjamb, that fucking brilliant smile on his face. He was naked save for a sheet wrapped around his midsection and Luca gulped before managing to get his bearings.

Luca wanted to say it back. He wanted to pull him in and say “I love you too, you fucking idiot,” but that’s not what he did. Because that’s not something Luca could do. He could only let seconds keep ticking by, watching as Valor seemed to barely breathe.