Tribulation //RED QUEEN FANFICTION

8:Kicking

It's the last days of summer and as fast as it gets colder outside as fast it gets colder inside Thomas.

He's been waiting for this day a while. He half expects that waiting is in vain again.

This time he won't leave a hint of a promise.

It is a little like roulette to find out which Maven will come to talk.

It could be the anxious one, slowly loosing his grip on reality and trying to hold onto Thomas with everything he got, making them do things they regret and can't forget.

It could be stone cold Maven with the blank face, snapping and hiding, not able to remotely show if he understands the impact his actions have.

Maybe he's just going to mock Thomas, or he just tries to lie again.

He always lies. Even when he is honest.

And now he has even taking up Thomas master skills of avoiding and disappearing and moved them to another otherworldly level.

He's ushered his sister away under false pretenses. He almost feels guilty.

"Move it, got a date. You need to leave."

"Oh no." His sister says. "If this is about you know who people will rip you apart, Tommy."

"Yeah, no worries, it's something else. "He shrugs and looks at something behind her ear so he doesn't have to lie directly in her face. "Thomas is a free elf now."

In truth, Thomas is the most unfree creature there ever was. He's overthinking everything.

Thomas was sure he'd punch Maven straight in the face. Or kiss him and never let go. Maybe both. The good old kiss slappery-doo.

All he does is exhale a nervous dry chuckle when he sees his face in front of the door.

He sees the eyes wander over him, without betraying anything.

Like he didn't expect they'd play this game again.

The blue eyes stop at the flames curling down Thomas fingers, grapping the doorframe with force.

From the rundown clothes and Thomas bare feet, toes twitching to Maven's new shoes and the dark coat he's hiding his hunched shoulders in. There's still traces of the boy Thomas left behind but they are small and it seems whatever is happening with Maven is swallowing those too.

Look who's even fancier and less geeky, all dressed up.

The difference between their appearance is mocking and blatantly obvious, almost offensive. He still can't stop the artist and the weak heart of the street rat to take in every bit, eyes wandering.

They stare at each other like strangers in the dark, trying to find out the intention of that shadow walking behind one.

"I have been expecting you," Thomas says in the pale imitation of a mustache-twirling villain. He's doing it again. Coping with fun. And bad puns.

Not the first bad pattern one of them repeats.

The second bad step follows like a thief stealing through the night, because his body just isn't fast enough to move out of the way and they brush. Thomas body thinks of the way this ended the last time, and boy, it's doing the wrong things to his poor head.

Wait, his brain says, wait wait, that is NOT talking. That is sending the wrong signals, dude, cut it.

Pssst, Thomas racing pulse tells him off, let it go. Who needs talking anyway.