Fear and Fate(poly)(bxb)

Sixteen

Romero turns his head away from Seven even when the shorter places himself directly in his line of sight. It's so obvious when the two are fighting. Actually, it's pretty obvious when anything is going on between the two. They can't stay away from each other for very long. Seven's soft exterior craves Romero's sturdy one.

"What did I do?" Seven begs for an answer for the third time.

Romero almost looks like he's going to give it to him. He makes eye contact with Seven's almond-shaped soul snatchers for a full minute before scoffing and looking away. A vein emerges on Romero's neck and up to his face as he clenches his jaw. I can already tell what this is about.

Von isn't back yet from his assignment. Without him here our routine starts to feel more like a chore. Training, sparing, and strategizing, all things I wouldn't have to worry about had I chosen to live any other way. Now I have to worry about getting along with more than just the five gang members. I have to look out for dozens more as we prepare for war. Diana promises our numbers are going to keep growing.

"You know what," Seven switches. "I didn't do anything. That's why you can't tell me."

"You keep flirting with them," Romero spits back but the way he stares into Seven's eyes is romantic. "Why do you have to be so friendly every time a new guy walks in? You know what they think of you?"

"Do you want our numbers to grow or not? I'm trying to be nice. They better think I'm fucking nice," Seven says and uses his hands for emphasis.

There's something that turns on and off in him. When he drops his act, when the prince puts down his crown. He starts acting with no remorse. It happens in battle and sometimes it happens in conversation.

"You're lying to me," Romero accuses.

Seven straightens his posture. He's wearing all black but there are pale skin breaks. His tight jeans are ripped and his shirt is so loose it's almost falling off his shoulder.

"I can talk to whoever I want." Seven says.

"There it is."

"You can't control me, you can't even control this little gang. Who are you to tell me who I can and can't talk to?" Seven cocks his head to the side. His single lidded eyes widen for the briefest second as they flash with rage.

"I just know everyone thinks you're such a little twink." Romero smiles when he says it. "I don't want you going out and embarrassing yourself when everyone already knows how you sleep at night. Inviting more people in when you've been ran through so many times. It won't be long before I won't even want you anymore."

"Don't say that... Are they really saying that?" Seven stares at the floor instead of Romero's face. His ears are bright red.

"They've always been saying that. Lucky Mia's here now to take some of the pressure off," Romero looks towards me and I immediately look away, suddenly feeling insecure myself.

"I don't care," Seven pouts, the color still on his cheeks.

"Aw, yes you do." Romero pulls his arm until he has him in an embrace. He holds him close and Seven keeps his head down as he lets him. "Just delete the guy's number. It'll make you feel better."

"It'll make you feel better," Seven mumbles but he's sliding his cell phone out of his back pocket.

Romero hovers over him. He eyes Seven's phone like a hawk. Seven quickly presses a few buttons and puts it away, now one contact lighter.

Von hasn't just gone through my phone he's thrown it, smashed it, shot it. I know he'd do the same to whoever I'd be texting. The thought of it is thrilling. I could never go past just thinking it though.