CHAPTER 1 #2
My head snapped around and I blinked at the figure who stood there. He was young but stood tall, must have been around my age, with tousled, light brown hair, sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline and a slightly furrowed brow. His hazel eyes seemed curious, if slightly alarmed.
“Hey? And yeah, it’s a joint.”
“You’re not allowed.”
“Nobody said anything about me being allowed or not.” I raised a brow “want to take a hit?”
“Not really, no.” The lad muttered.
I scanned him up and down.
“Zeltron?” I asked after a long moment of just observing him.
“Yes. Matthew Wells.”
“Theo Danes.” I replied, taking a long drag and blowing out more smoke in Matthew’s face, purely to annoy him “sit down or carry on with whatever you were doing.”
Matthew stayed still for a moment, then huffed and sat. “You’re not allowed weed.” He repeated, as if I hadn’t heard him the first time round.
“And what are you gonna do about it? Tell on me? What are we, five?”
Matthew’s nose wrinkled slightly “who’d I tell anyway?” He grumbled.
“Brilliant. Have a try.” I waved the joint in front of his mouth, feeling much more confident with whoever this guy was than the intimidating figure that Stryker represented. He was hot, too.
“I don’t smoke.”
“Clearly.” I snorted “first time for everything, though.”
“I said no.” Matthew snapped.
I raised an eyebrow at the sudden attitude “fine. Suit yourself.”
I continued smoking in silence, enjoying the detachment it brought me. I could feel Matthew's stare on me, though. It was making me squirm.
“It’s creepy to stare.” I pointed out after a while.
“What are you doing out here alone?”
“What are you doing out here alone? I’m clearly smoking.”
“I…couldn’t sleep. My roommate snores.”
“Poor thing.” I grinned mockingly.
Matthew didn’t speak for a few long moments “you been here long?”
I shook my head. Didn’t elaborated. He didn’t ask, instead opting for “did you choose to sign up?”
I found it kind of a bizarre question. Nobody chose to risk their lives in the army, not anyone I knew, anyway.
“Not really. My dad thought that it would be good for me. I didn’t really oppose.”
“Hm.” Matthew frowned “I didn’t either.”
“No?” I asked curiously.
“No. I…my dad thought it would be good for me too. But I, uh…prefer not to fight.”
I blinked, processing the statement and how ridiculous it was before laughing out loud “came to the wrong place, mate.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Do you know how to fight?” I just had to ask.
“Course I do. Just don’t like it. Stop laughing.” But he was smiling too. There was something endearing about that smile. I liked it. I wanted to see it more often.
“How old are you, anyway? My age?”
“Sixteen.”
“My age.” I nodded sagely “only one?”
“Jack’s seventeen. He’s my roommate.” Matthew murmured “he’s brutal. He likes inflicting damage.”
“I think Stryker does too.” I murmured pensively. It was certainly the impression he'd left on me.
“Aisen?”
“Mh, yeah. We share a room.”
“The prince is in the army?”
“He’s clearly good at what he does.” I shrugged “he’s full of scars. Only been here a month though, so...I dunno.”
“Right. So, you said you haven’t been here long. What does that- I mean, how long have you been here?”
“Seven hours?” I snorted, inhaling again “you?”
“Almost a year.” He grumbled.
I hummed “wow. Hey, Matt, come on, humour me.” I waved the joint in front of him again, enthusiastic.
“I don't know how."
"Just inhale the smoke, hold it, and blow it out. Easy."
I grinned as Matthew hesitantly took the joint from me and put it to his lips. He inhaled, holding it in as I had instructed, coughing the smoke out when he must have felt a twinge that told him he needed to breathe.
My lips, unbidden, twitched upwards into a smile as I rubbed his back, taking the joint back.
"Hey, look at this." I grinned, feeling a bit like showing off, taking a hit. I opened my mouth. Nothing happened for a moment. Then, rounding my lips, I let out a carefully controlled puff of smoke. It spun out of my mouth, small at first, then gradually growing into an impressive smoke ring.
"And I can't even do it normally." Matthew sighed dejectedly.
I puffed out another and smirked, then took a deep drag. I beckoned Matthew closer. Frowning, he did, visibly surprised when I trapped his chin between my thumb and for finger and guided our mouths together.
It was the weed making my grip on my own sanity drift away, probably; I blew the smoke into Matthew’s mouth, lips nearly touching. He still looked surprised, staring wide eyed at me before blowing out the smoke with a little more grace than before.
“There we go, that was better.” I encouraged him with a sloppy smile. The cloud above him looked a lot like an octopus. Or was it a strawberry? Tearing my gaze away and settling it back on Matthew, I noticed how soft his lips looked, full and parted in shock, decisively kissable.
“The hell was that?”
“Shotgunning.” I replied nonchalantly. No big deal. Only shit I usually did with my hookups.
“It was weird as hell.”
I just shrugged.
“You do that with every stranger who crosses your path?”
“Nah, that would be weird as hell.”
“You’re weird as hell.” Matthew muttered.
I grinned. Was it even weirder to be proud of that? Or to like the way he said it? I liked the way he said it. He could call me weird all the times he wanted and I wouldn't object.
“Well, it was nice meeting you and all, but I should probably go. See you around.”
Why did I feel disappointed about that? I was probably lonely.
“Yeah. Sure.” I replied through a cloud of smoke.