Gods & Monsters

XXXIII

As luck would have it, they've managed to find a coat room, which is deserted, save for a smattering of beige jackets.

The room's smaller, quiet and unfurnished, yet it feels like oxygen compared to the swarms of academic stuffiness jammed into all the other rooms. It's perfect and it gives them room to just sit there against the wall, side by side, leg pressed against leg as they entangle their hands and stare at the ceiling, making each other laugh, talking about absolutely nothing of consequence.

loves talking about nothing with Troye. They could be in a cardboard box for five days and they'd still have the time of their lives—that's how he knows he's in love. That's how he knows he's ruined for fucking eternity.

It's just as they're laughing comfortably, all tension and boredom finally released from their bodies, that a voice suddenly sounds over the speakers tucked in each room, intercom clicking into life.

"We would like to take this time to announce that the ceremony will commence in twenty minutes," a female voice recites. "If you could please start to find your seats, we will begin shortly. Thank you."

With that, the speakers cut and the sound of soft violins fills the silence once again. As one, they both sigh, locking gazes.

"Show time," Jacob grins, giving Troye's hand an excited squeeze. But Troye looks anything but nervous—rather, he looks serene, lazy almost as he nods. "Best go find Laurelle and Sage, yeah?"

Troye nods once more. "Yeah. Let's get this over with."

Which...is an odd thing to say. But Jacob doesn't press it, just stands up and offers Troye his hands to take.

They stand, brushing off their trousers and straightening their jackets, Jacob dusting off Troye's shoulders and adjusting his bowtie as Troye looks up fondly, that kiss of a dimple lying in delicate shadow on his cheek. Then they exchange one last smile, press their palms together, and are just exiting the room—

When suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Timothee appears, walking towards them with glossy eyes, a pinched mouth, and flushed cheeks. He arrives too fast for Jacob to register a damn thing.

"Timothee?" is all he manages, blinking his startled surprised as he halts in his step. Beside him, Troye stills as well, cautiously glancing between the two, clutching tightly to Jacob's hand.

But Timothee.

Timothee looks...almost manic with sadness, a hint of exasperation and laughter flooding his eyes as he takes in the sight of the both of them, clearly surprised to have run into them.

"Fuck's sake," he mutters, throwing up his hands before he twists one of them into his hair. His entire body is taught, agitated. The muscles beneath his pristine, ironed jacket seem to quiver.

Jacob swallows, his stomach dropping.

This doesn't feel...okay.

They need to leave. Now.

He's just about to tug Troye forward, have them press past Timothee without another word, when suddenly Timothee looks up, eyes pink and almost wet.

"They told me, you know," he says and he sounds somewhere between incredulous and broken. But forceful, almost. He inhales sharply through his nose as he stares at Jacob, letting his hands fall heavily to his sides. "They told me. Just now."

But Jacob just remains silent, feeling caught, trapped—like a wild animal. He can't explain it, but he can't breathe, his heart suspended in its trepidation. There's something in the air, something he doesn't understand but he feels tugging on the inside. Something that feels dangerously akin to a vase preparing to smash against the floor.