His eyes find him just as the words leave his mouth. There the boy sits, aside the window letting in cruel rays of sunshine, daring to be so bright on such a mournful day, simply mocking the grieving boy's sorrow, lightening the glowing features of the youthful boy sitting with his arm loosely draped over the back of his chair, nonchalance written over his every move as if the events of last night never happened, as if he wasn't responsible for it himself, looking as fresh as ever-if not more-like the blood had somehow made him younger.
Meeting his brother's eyes, a small tug of his lips stretches his skin as little as possible, almost invisible to the eyes of the oblivious, which nearly makes Hector twitch an eye.
"Can it not wait till after the class?"
"It's urgent." Hector doesn't take his eyes off Troye.
Troye gets up and saunters out of the room and Hector follows.
"Jesus, whoever knew you'd ever come of help," Troye pats his brother on the arm, "thanks for getting me out of that shithole, that hag was fucking with my head with-"
"We need to talk."
"Yes that's what I was doing," Troye frowns, "before you rudely interrupted me. Did no one ever tell you it's rude to interrupt?"
Hector clenches his jaw. "It's important."
Troye leans his broad shoulder against the sage metal of the lockers, and flashes a sincere smile, reluctantly mocking Hector's sternness. "I'm all ears."
Hector tries his best not hit him. But Troye isn't making it any easier for him and knowing the slick blade of his knife sits in his waistline makes it all the more tempting. No one's watching. It'd be so quick.
"Not here."
"Here's fine." Troye insists.
Hector's glare drills a hole at his smug face.
"Oh don't tell," Troye says, moving away from the locker, nearing Hector, "is it a... secret?" he whispers.
Hector doesn't meet Troye's eyes. He stares behind his head toward the empty hallway not wanting to see the amusement lightening his face and the sadistic grin not wanting to wipe off his lips.
"Tell me," he leans in, "are you here to tell me about another one of your crushes?" he tuts. "Moved on from Mu-"
Hector shoves him hard against the locker before he can finish and presses his neck with his forearm.
He doesn't get to say his name. Not after he killed him.
Troye grunts.
"What did you do?" Hector spits, not bothering to move his arm from his neck even even his face goes red.
To his surprise Troye grunts out a snort (brave coming from someone who's being strangled). "What?" he wheezes, "you're really gonna stab me?"
Hector frowns. The peculiar statement throws him off, not knowing what he means when he suddenly feels the weight of something heavy in his clammy grip. He looks down to see himself holding the polished blade of his knife against Troye's torso.
Stunned he drops his arm.
Troye pushes him and he staggers back still in shock.
He can't think for a second that he'd gone as close to stabbing his brother on broad daylight, in demand of answers to questions he has little hope of finding. But how could he have lost his mind completely to the point he entirely lost control of his consciousness? How could ever he claim his brother to be a monster when he was so close to doing something so reckless?
"Is this how you did it?"
"What?" Hector attention snaps back to him.
Troye's black pupils tear through Hector's soul searching for God knows what. But Hector can't read the look on his stone cold face, his eyes red and teary for being chocked and yet he seems as invincible and intimidating as ever and Hector tries not to shiver under his bone chilling gaze.
"Did what?" Hector tries once again. But a deep fear settles heavy in his chest when Troye's brows dip ever so slightly.
No fucking way.
"Mr Vincent?"
The boys snap their heads at the intruding voice, reverberating through the tensed air. Hector's heartbeat picks up at sight of Headmaster Wheeler. Had he heard everything?
"Can I see you in my office for a moment please?"
**
surprise bitches
SEVEN
Start from the beginning
