GOD OF CHAOS

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

JEREMY VOLKOV

Jeremy had always prided himself on his ability to discern people better than they could themselves, but with Landon, he felt hopeless. Landon had mastered the art of being 'Landon King' to such an extent that it was hard to tell whether there was even a façade or not. In fact, he made Jeremy question whether he had ever seen Landon last night in his most genuine form—a stark contrast to the man he thought he knew.

Jeremy had almost wanted to spill the beans in front of him, to ask him, to plead with him to give him something that wasn't fake. He didn't even know if all the words he had ever spoken, all the sweet nothings, were anything but his twisted mind games. Jeremy had wanted to tell Landon about last night when he had shown genuine emotions for the first time, when he had asked Jeremy to keep him company while he slept, when he had kissed him without any urgency, but he couldn't. It felt like a betrayal to the boy underneath. So he was left feeling helpless.

He didn't understand his fascination with Landon anymore. It had gone far beyond intrigue or plain physical attraction. It was a maddening feeling of unease, the more he stayed away from Landon. The constant questions and worries that plagued him with Landon before his eyes. Thus, he had asked for a moment of honesty. And to his surprise, Landon had been honest. Or so he thought, at least. Unfortunately for him, Landon King was a master manipulator who chose his words carefully even in the most vulnerable situations. That's what he did. Landon had played with his words, fed him breadcrumbs, and left him reeling with more streaks of confusion than when he walked into the conversation.

Landon wasn't to be uncovered layer by layer; he was a web of lies that could trap anyone at any moment, and Jeremy was wholeheartedly running towards it.

The microwave dinged, pulling Jeremy out of his thoughts. He sighed, getting up and walking over to pull out the food. At that moment, Landon entered the kitchen. "Are you going to poison me tonight?" Landon mused, his tone laced with sarcasm as he sat down on a chair by the counter, his words a sharp reminder of the tangled web of their relationship.

Jeremy ignored his words and pulled out the plates, his movements methodical and controlled as he began serving the food. As he worked, Landon spoke again, his words dripping with sarcasm. "You'd make a good housewife to someone one day, Jeremy. If the mafia doesn't work out, you always have that backup." Jeremy lifted his head and shot a glare at Landon, his irritation evident in the tension of his jaw, but Landon merely smirked in return, unfazed by Jeremy's reaction.

"Cooking is one of the basic life skills you need to survive," Jeremy stated flatly, his tone devoid of humor or amusement.

"And what's the point in surviving if you're not living?" Landon quipped, his voice light and playful, a stark contrast to Jeremy's seriousness.

"How on earth would you live if you don't survive?" Jeremy countered, his brow furrowing in confusion as he grappled with Landon's flippant attitude towards such a fundamental concept. "And how does cooking make you live any less than you are now?"

Landon shrugged nonchalantly, his indifference apparent as he leaned back in his chair. "It takes away from my time of doing something more fun."

"Like what? Killing people?" Jeremy snapped, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to understand Landon's cavalier attitude towards life and death. Landon looked taken aback for a moment, his smirk faltering, before it returned in full force, his gaze challenging as he met Jeremy's eyes.

"I would argue it is more enjoyable than cooking, yes." Jeremy clenched his jaw, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he placed a plate of food in front of Landon. With a heavy sigh, he settled into his seat opposite Landon.