𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 ╼╼ b. talbot

𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆. 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱

   His eyes drifted to the library. He wondered if they had any old books. He doubted it, it was only a high school library. It probably only held boring science and biographies from the last 50 years. He doubted there would be a single first edition. Unlike the Salvatore School, it had no need for ancient books with chicken scratch in them.

  "Mr. Stilinski!" Bellamy's eyes snapped to the office woman, "For heaven's sake, pay attention when someone says your name!" She huffed with her arms crossed. She muttered something under her breath about kids no longer being respectful. Whatever she had said, Bellamy was certain it wasn't pleasant.

   Then Bellamy noticed him. He'd remember that face. Brett, from Sinema., the handsome boy who'd "saved" him from Haz.

  Seeing him twice within a few days and he lived down the street... Bellamy didn't love those odds. Usually, someone as good-looking and nice as Brett would disappear, or turn out to be someone who wanted him dead. for one reason or another. Immortal did not seem to deter people from trying; believing the tribrid thing to be a myth. Most people would be deterred once the first few attempts failed drastically, but some people only became more determined, believing he would become the next Klaus Mikaelson.

But Bellamy saw his father's mistakes. He didn't want to be like him, but he would never allow another person who hurt him to live.

   "My knight," Bellamy said with a small smirk as he stood up. He pulled the inside of his cheek between his teeth.

   "Damsel," Brett returned with a feminine gasp. His eyes trailed over Bellamy's outfit, all the way down to his shoes, before meeting his eyes again. His hair wasn't nearly as fluffy as it had been Saturday night.

   "Great, you two know each other. Should make things run smoothly," Her voice was strained as a sneer made its way across her lips. Brett glanced at her for a half second as he placed a hand on the small of Bellamy's back.

   Two could play at that game.

   "I'll bring him back before seventh ends, Mrs. Miller," Brett said over his shoulder.

   "So much for you being 21," Bellamy slightly tilted his head to the side as a playful smirk crossed his lips.

   "And what of you, Mr. Stilinski? I remember pretty clearly, you purchased and drank much more than I," Brett's voice was low as he took a small step closer. The two of them were standing very close. Almost too close. Bellamy's tongue poked his cheek as he looked Brett up and down. Brett was two inches taller than him. Brett pushed the door open with his right arm. The effort only brought them even closer together,  "After you."

   "You're the lead." Bellamy's head tilted to the side as he raised his brows.

   "Stop flirting Mr. Talbot and get to class!" Ms. Miller called from her office. She was red in the face. Her window had a perfect view of the door and how close they were standing. Brett looked ready to laugh. Bellamy rolled his eyes. He pulled Brett into a short, but deep kiss by his tie. Brett returned it. And judging by the way his hand slipped from the door to Bellamy's waste. Bellamy pulled away to see the woman's face grow more red as she marched out of her office, tiny pink slip in hand, "Mr. Talbot! You know the rules! Your displays-" She scolded.

   "Listen to me you old hag," Bellamy's glare was cold, and features all seemed to angle down in disapproval, "Just because you don't get any dick doesn't mean I can't. Go sit your flat ass in your office and try to keep your homophobic mouth shut for more than five minutes." Her nostrils flared as her eyes widened with rage. Brett's mouth hung open as he watched her do exactly what Bellamy said. Bellamy reached out and gently closed his mouth with his index finger. He patted Brett's cheek.