Atelo [MXM] [BOOK 1] ✓

CHAPTER 27: OKAY

Lola brings Marley lunch a few hours later, Marley assumes. There's not exactly a clock in here so he's not 100% sure how much time has passed, but lunch is served at 12:00 in 1-A so he can only assume that's when it was served to him. Of course, this was a while ago. It's been enough time for him to throw and catch a bouncy ball from his keychain against the wall 200 times.

Marley's gotta keep himself busy. There is no other option. He tried to read a book pre-lunch, but it felt too much like a chore. Eventually he gave up and tried to search for a source of warmth in this godforsaken prison, to no avail. It's been a rough time.

Now he's bouncing the ball against the floor, which then bounces off the wall, then the floor again, before landing in Marley's hand; who is seated on the bed. 201.

Nero would probably tell him to stop. He'd either tell Marley to cut it out or I'll throw it out the fucking window or he'd just take it and put it in the trash. What a pleasant man.

Even so, Marley misses him. Nero wouldn't let him get this bored and miserable. He'd probably annoy Marley to the point where the prince is going on a rant in his head about how Nero is both hot and an asshole which is totally unfair.

Nero is attractive, too. Holy shit. It's still totally surreal that Nero Accardi, a man with a catastrophically powerful abnormality and devilishly handsome face, kissed Marley. On purpose. Nero is totally out of Marley's league, that's for sure.

Nero's got black hair and red eyes, tanned skin and long eyelashes. A strong jawline and a slightly crooked nose that's covered in freckles. He's ethereal at times. Tall dark and handsome.

Marley's plain looking. He's got dirty blond hair and hazel eyes and a moderately fit body due to training. It's starting to go, though, since he hasn't been eating very much. He's a basic height, anywhere from 5'9" to 6', normal for his age. He's average looking, the only notable thing being his title.

Marley's got all this pent up trauma and hurt and anxiety that he doesn't know what to do with. Marley's fucked up and sad and confused all the time. He doesn't know what's right and what's wrong anymore.

Nero knows what he wants. He can get it, too. He's so sure of himself all the time, like he knows exactly what to do in any given situation.

Marley catches the ball when it bounces back. He's lost count of how many times he's thrown it now, but he's starting to get bored with it so it probably doesn't matter anyway. The only reason he started was to not think, and look how that turned out?

This is a big problem, anyway. Nero doesn't leave Marley's head—ever. It has become quite a nuisance. However, Marley supposes, thinking about his crush is probably way better than working himself into a panic attack by worrying about the future, and the past... and the present. Yikes.

Marley falls back on the creaky bed, dropping the ball so it lands somewhere near the foot of it. There's gotta be something in here for him to do.

He starts humming a song. It's not one he can remember the name of, just something that he distantly remembers hearing in the car on the way to 1-A, all those weeks ago. He can only remember a few verses, which only frustrates him since now he actually wants to listen to the stupid song and he has no way of doing that.

Marley sighs, pushing himself up so he's seated. He looks around the room for a few minutes, before rubbing the bridge of his nose.

This is gonna be a long night.

-

It is, too. Marley doesn't get any sleep, not even a few minutes. All he does is just lay awake, stare at the cracked ceiling, and shiver. The cold has its pros and cons, since when he's freezing his ass off and wishing he could die, the last thing on his mind is the overall doom that is his life. When he moves around he gets a bit warmer, and that allows for his mind to wander, but he stays still in bed all night.