“Armand, I—” Lucas’s voice was broken in every way I wanted it to be, his hips driving into me, one hand scrambling at my back, his fingers clenching in the fabric of my shirt.He tensed, and I made a split-second decision.If I took him all in, if I gobbed at this juncture, there was no denying how deep I’d fallen.At the last possible moment, I disengaged and pulled my shirt over my head, bunching it forward so Lucas could push into it.
He keened, shuddered, and gasped, his hands finding mine in the mess of cloth, and as warmth spread between us, he slumped against my shoulder.
His flushed cheek on my bare skin sent a buzzing ache through me, and I flutter-kissed every bit of him I could reach.I was a hungry animal nipping at sunlight, and Lucas’s weight against me was the only thing that kept that hunger from turning on me, tearing me to shreds.
“Armand Demetrio,” he breathed into my neck, holding on as I trembled.“What thefuck, sir.”
I couldn’t quite speak yet, still trying to fill the emptiness in my mouth with kisses and nuzzles.Eventually Lucas’s strong, rough fingers gripped my jaw—gently but firmly—so he could meet my eyes.
“You okay?”He was still breathing hard, sweat glistening at his temples, his green eyes wide and filled with the pleasure I’d given.I’d done that.Done well.
I reached into the depths and found something dark and raspy that nonetheless resembled my voice.“Never better.”
Lucas kissed my mouth, the bridge of my nose, the corner of my brow.He took the soiled shirt between us and tossed it aside.“You’re incredible.That was incredible.No one’s ever ...”He bit his lip, looking almost apologetic.
Confirmed.That bitter tide of anger surged through me again, mixing with the itch that filled every muscle with a crackling want.“Lucas—” I swallowed, feeling every nerve in my body respond as his hands explored my back “—I’m afraid I have a rather large crush on you.”
He giggled, his grin nearly sending me into another dimension.“Good.”His eyes traveled down to where, still on my knees, I was quite obviously straining against my jeans.“Let me see if I can help you with that.”
We put my charity-shop sofa through the ringer, never quite making it to the bed a few feet away.It didn’t make any sense—Lucas and this place existing at the same time.It all seemed like some miraculous, ridiculous mistake, like a perfect, precious,goodthing surrounded by rubbish and brown gravy.
He didn’t belong here.With me.And while I was going to do everything in my power to keep him from realizing that, there was only so long it could last.
Lucas Locks In
August 20-21
So, this was what death felt like.
My eyelids weighed a million pounds, and I barely managed to check my phone: 11:45 p.m.Gross.
What day was it?Whatyearwas it?
I could hear my mom now:Aww, baby’s first jetlag.It took all the strength in my very stiff, very heavy body to blink again and adjust to the dark.The mattress creaked loudly as I struggled to sit up and ground myself.Claustrophobic room, no external light whatsoever, a vague and musty smell in the air ...I gripped the mattress as the panic of an unfamiliar environment prickled my skin.
There was breathing next to me.And it started coming back.
I was with Armand, in his squeaky bed, in his tiny apartment, in London.I was in another country with a man I had only recently met in person.A man who—my body took great care to remember pointedly—had kissed me gently and then proceeded to go down on me without the slightest hesitation.I hadn’t had to beg, had never expected that someone like him would ever consider ...
It’s because he doesn’t know you that well, yet.You literally met like five seconds ago.My brain cells were slowly returning and brought familiar self-consciousness with them.You’re having a whirlwind European romance with a perfect stranger, but that’s all it is.Enjoy it while it lasts, you needy bitch.
Even in the dark, Armand was beautiful, like a painting; his muscled shoulders rose and fell gently as he slept.His nose was smushed adorably into the pillow, the rest of him splayed out on the mattress like a collapsed rag doll.The jetlag must’ve come for him too—if we’d learned anything from our time cohabiting through completely polar-opposite schedules, the middle of the night was when he wasmostlikely to be awake.
I carefully navigated by the dim light of my phone over to my suitcase, forgotten by the front door—I hadn’t evenunpackedyet; god, I was a mess already.I grabbed clean clothes for a shower, and my feet did need to remember how to walk a couple of times, so it was probably best that Armand wasn’t conscious to perceive me.As quietly as possible (though Armand was grumble-snoring quite loudly), I shuffled into the bathroom.
Where I was hit with a wave of déjà vu, only worse.
The bathroom was barely large enough for one person, let alone two—I could practically touch every single wall.Absolutely no counter space, there was a bar of soap and nothing else, and yep, there were definitely strands of dark hair in the tub.Which looked like it hadn’t met bleach inmonths.Everything was tinted yellow, with none of the homey touches I’d added to our Briars apartment to offset the barren wasteland that was the bathroom.This was how Armand had been living this whole time?How was he still alive?
Stay strong, Barclay.You very much signed up for this.
I tore my eyes away from the half roll of toilet paper sitting on top of an empty roll—mygod—and settled instead on the line of mildew on the tiny windowsill and brown-ish mold in the grouting.Okay, first on the task list: white vinegar and baking soda, need to get rid of thatstat.Swallowing my panic, I turned to the mirror over the sink, and—
Doodles.Layered and intricate, the designs swirling around the edges of the mirror and leaving only a head-shaped usable space in the center.I let my finger hover over the ink, tracing the lines and spotting small drawings hidden within the geometric mess—there was a penguin, a frog, and ...an amorphous jelly creature of some kind?
I snagged my cleaning wipes from my luggage to scrub the daylights out of the sink and tub.I left the mirror untouched.
It did take a few minutes for hot water to run, but eventually I managed something akin to a shower and then attempted my skincare routine with the mirror space available.My colorful, meticulously organized toiletry bag hung on the towel-less towel rack in stark contrast to the dingy nothingness of the bathroom.While waiting for my facemask to dry, I checked my phone for messages.
