#primumregem

[ meme || accepting ]

     "What are you talking about? We      were literally just all hanging out      yesterday.”

[crossing the sea had been easy, crossing the street to get to where he needed to be was not as easy. on the other side of the street was a home that housed the person who had ordered him. but this time was different. most orders were scams by the company, to take in money from the other after they died, but this one wasn’t a scam. this one was one in the same  as him. immortals. that’s the word they had come to use over time. this arrangement was one that was hand picked and it made ray nervous. whoever was on the other side of the door in front of him was someone he would be with for a very long time. but he sucked down his nerves and reached a hand out to knock on the door. when it opened he didn’t even take the time to look at him before speaking.]

     “Hello Mr. Ramsey. I’m your      mail-order husband.”

[well sure he was attractive looking and all but ray wasn’t sure that’s the exact reason. but of course he’d be the one to crack a joke at the first sign of confusion. a coping mechanism, really. one he was sure would get him in trouble one of these days.]

     They were just meaningless numbers-- that’s what he told himself, anyway. They weren’t something Michael tried to concern himself with. Growing up, he had much bigger problems to deal with than the countdown rattling away on his wrist... but it acted as some weird sense of comfort when he was alone. At least there was someone out there; he had numbers, even if they changed-- scaling higher as he assumed his would-be soulmate took more risks and made decisions that would take their paths further apart. Asshole was gonna be dead by the time Michael could get to them.

      Well, that was if Michael was alive to see the numbers hit zero himself. It wasn’t always a sure thing, living like he did, and he can only imagine his partner’s numbers reeling up and down by the day. As time goes on, Michael looks at the timer less and less and affords it only brief glances to check up on it in times of nighttime loneliness. In truth, he was scared of what he’d find staring back at him when the timer finally hit zero.

     But when Michael turns twenty-four and moves from New Jersey out to San Andreas, those numbers take a significant dip-- and the numbers only stray lower and lower as he makes a new name for himself here in Los Santos. It seems like with each new excursion, each new job, that counter only wanders closer to its end. Maybe it’s imagined by an excited and impatient mind, but it’s almost like it’s picking up speed as the weeks pass.

     It’s the last thing he expects, to be nearly grabbed by a stranger in the grocery store. It’s the other’s presence he senses first, turning with a jug of milk clutched under his arm and an irritable, not-to-be-fucked-with look on his face. That is, until he sees the older man pushing back his sleeve and Michael catches the line of zeroes printed there. He stares dumbly at him for a moment as if it was all he could do before nearly dropping the milk in his haste to pull up his own thick hoodie sleeve.

     Zeroes, too; plain as day, etched across his wrist.

     Normally confident and with no shortness of things to say, the demolitions expert finds himself wordless for the first time in his life. Just looking back at the other, taking in all his particulars, hand still holding back his sleeve as if worried the zeroes were just a mistake. Dark hair, tall, better dressed than himself, and with blue eyes. The kind of beautiful, dangerous blue that looks like you could drown in them if you indulged in them too long... It’s only after a full thirty seconds that Michael realizes he’s been staring like an idiot and not saying a damn word to the guy. Right.

      The younger puts on a smirk, all smiling sharp teeth and glinting brown eyes refocusing on the other as he gathers back his usual bravado.

[the timer on his wrist had been skipped forwards a few months when he was contacted by michael. he knew of all people it wasn’t him, they’d known each other for too long for them not to have figured it out yet. while the timer had been a bit of an encompassing thing in his life, ray hadn’t really put much thought into who would be on the other side of total zeros. so when he met up with the crew michael was apart of, he’d noticed his timer had been at it’s end. many of the others had also reached their zeros so it was a bit hard to tell exactly who it could be. of course being a bit distracted, michael had followed his eyes to his wrist to see exactly what held ray’s attention.]

     “It’s someone here...”

16. My muse is kidnapped and yours has just rescued them.

     ❝ just let me take a look           at it, geoff, huh? ❞