Murder The Moment [BoyXBoy]

.:8:.

He looked up at me with glum eyes and took a step forward, before running up to me and engulfing me in a confusing embrace.

"I fucking hate you," he murmured against my shoulder. Not really knowing what else to do, I wrapped my arms around him too. And I liked it. Vic and I had barely touched each other so far and, now that it was happening, the comfort was much appreciated. He felt so warm against me and I could not help but take in his luscious scent.

I guessed that, for Vic, this was some sort of confession. Of what, I did not know. One minute he likes me, the next he hates me. What was his deal? And what was this whole thing about forgetting something?

I stayed silent, not interrupting the hug, because I felt like he needed it more than anything. After a few seconds, however, Vic pulled back, still keeping his muscular on my shoulders, and looked up at my face. Our eyes locked and stayed like that for a while.

I could not look away, mesmerised by the two twinkling orbs which were gazing into mine. I adored the divine colour of his eyes. Those eyes could kill with a glare and bewitch with a glance. They were a deep bronze and shone with the spark of life and blazed with the curse of death. They were like the Sun, with how they could hide any kind of darkness. They were like the Moon, with how they held so many secrets. Those enticing eyes, however, were full to the brim with nightmares and corrupted by misery. It was a tragedy, really, that such an angelic pair of eyes was so diseased with grief and decaying from the calamity called life. Rimmed with thick eyelashes which, undoubtedly, had been drowned in the salty tears too many times than they should ever have.

Realisation that we had been staring at each other for so long came like a slap to the face and I instantly blushed the brightest of reds, breaking our laser-like eye connection. Vic visibly tensed up, dropping his arms from my shoulders , and I instantly missed his touch. His face held the expression of regret, as he stared down at the ground, and I wanted to wipe it off straight away. I did not like seeing Vic like this. He was always the strong one, who found it so easy to be cheerful even at the worst of times. It was different to witness him be so vulnerable.

"It's okay to forget," I whispered again and placed my hand under his chin, lifting his head to look at me. "Do you understand?"

Vic nervously chewed his bottom lip, before slowly nodding.

***

Once again, I sat alone at the back of the courtyard with my personal notebook in my hand as I doodled on it. However, this time, I was not by myself because Vic was ignoring me; it was because he got called into Officer Wentz's – commonly known as M's – room to talk. I had no idea what he could possibly want as, when people went there, they usually came out with a year or two added to their prison sentence, which highly unsettled me. Although, Vic had nothing to worry about; he had a life sentence.

Honestly, I never had the courage to ask Vic about how long he would be here for but, luckily, Gerard had informed me about it. I wanted to ask about why he was in jail in the first place, as the crime must have been serious if he had received a life sentence, but before Gerard could say a word I had gotten dragged off to go and see Justin.

After the music store closed down, Justin had found a new job at his sister's boyfriend's night club. I did not know what to think of it. He had always been a wild partier and a ladies man, but I never expected this to be his thing. Maybe it wasn't and he only took the job to make me feel less guilty about the store closing down, even though I was obviously the only one to blame.

What happened between Vic and I, yesterday morning, was unbelievably strange. It was a rollercoaster of emotions – going from rejection, to sadness, to confusion, to comfort, to more confusion. Vic was truly a strange person. I still had no idea what he meant by 'forgetting', but I guessed that he did not want to talk about it as, whenever I tried to bring it up in conversation, he would quickly change the subject. I wondered if it had anything to do with why he was here. But if he did something tremendous, then why would he actually want to remember it?

My train of thought was interrupted by some commotion going on, on the other side of the courtyard. It wasn't anything huge, just people were making slightly more noise than they usually did. I ripped my gaze away from my drawing and looked up and to the left. Standing on the far side was the usual group of huge, intimidating men. There were the usual 17 of them, and I had quickly learned their names, but something was different. And that something was a someone.

I noticed an extra figure standing alongside the others. There was gossip going around about a new prisoner, but I never cared much, so I turned back to my picture without bothering to even give him a glance.

A few seconds later, I felt a presence next to me. My small form was being overshadowed by a standing figure and, upon averting my eyes upwards, I realised that it was Vic. My face lit up with a smile and so did his. He took a seat next to me and greeted me with a bright 'hello', throwing his arm around my shoulder.

"How was the talk?" I questioned, as Vic took hold of my notebook and I let him. He liked doing that; looking through my drawings. According to him, they were good, but I wasn't as certain about that as he was.

"Boring really, M just wanted to ask me about something," he dismissed casually, skipping onto the next page of my book and analysing every little detail of my artwork. I almost felt pressured into making my drawings good, just to please him, but he liked every single one, whether it was a rough sketch or a full masterpiece. And this was something I liked about Vic: he put others emotions before his own. It was a very dangerous trait to have.

I sighed in frustration, as those buff idiots, on the other side of the area, laughed loudly and yelled profanities around. It really annoyed me, but I couldn't do much about it without getting my ass kicked. Sure, I had Vic's protection, but I did not want to take any chances. Simply, I rolled my eyes before noticing something.

Vic had frozen. Completely frozen. His body was stiff and it looked like he had just witnessed a miracle, because the look on his face showed disbelief. His hands started trembling and he hesitantly set my book down on the ground. Slowly, almost as if he did not want to, Vic lifted his head and his deadly gaze landed on the noisy group of men opposite us.

I followed his line of sight and realised that he had locked eyes with another male in the group. He was quite tall and stood out from the crowd, as his head poked up above theirs. The man's arms were littered with all kinds of colourful tattoos and I was sure that he would have had piercings, but they were not allowed. He had dark hair and his skin was tan. But what stood out the most were the eyes.

The same alluring, sparkling, dazzling, radiant, chestnut eyes which I had grown to love - almost identical, in fact - but this man's eyes did not hold the same remarkable heartache as my friend's did. Instead they shone with amusement.

Before I knew what was truly happening, Vic was up on his feet and heavily storming in the man's direction.

He looked ready to kill.