𝐓𝗼𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐞 ✔︎

• Cᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ •

"Yeah sure, I'm sure I'll see you there later. I would be willing to bet that is exactly where you are heading after your shift is over. Am I right?" He shook his head, suppressing a smile as he turned around, walking around the long hallways towards a place he really didn't want to go. But yet, a small smile remained in his lips, tugging them upwards as he felt a calming aroma cast around him. Was that really all down to the mere mention of George? He had the power to make him feel warm and comforted, even when surrounded by cold criminals and knives out on display. He still felt safe.

"Wait don't you want to know what he said?" His voice boomed across the empty hall, stopping him involuntarily. He forced himself to walk on, not eager in presenting his hesitancy to move away from the revelation, no matter how much he wanted to know.

"He said he misses you when you leave!" He stopped then, frozen in surprise. And for once, it wasn't a horrible one. No, it was one that filled his heart with warmth, like a calming fire was being lit, heart spreading throughout the entirety of his body. The feeling was for th most part, unfamiliar. But no, not anymore. Ever since George came into his life, he became more and more acquainted with that feeling. Like he was important, and safe.

George missed him when he forced himself to leave. Did he feel the same?

His mind was too busy running around in circles, overjoyed at the small, irrelevant fact that George actually missed his dull presence. So much so, that he didn't notice a familiar floppy haired boy, hiding behind the boxes, in hearing range. Of what? Everything. He'd heard everything.

—

He frowned as he focused his gaze on the ground, staring intently at the dark wooden floorboards layering below him. They were strangely clean for a dodgy office, but so was everything in his dads life. Clean, precise, order. His life motto in three words, perhaps even his personality, if he even retained one.

"Reece! Snap out of it." He lifted his gaze to meet a cold one staring right at him, as if to look right through him. He was met with suspicious eyes, tearing straight through him as he moved to prop his elbows on the table. This was something he refrained from doing, leaving it for when he was suspicious of something, or more specifically, someone.

"You've been distracted recently, boy. What's with it?" He shrunk under the intense gaze, fierce eyes boring into him as he felt himself shrink in the brown leather chair. The one that had left him terrified and shaking from fear as a child, from being caught with his hand in a cookie jar, to being caught wielding a gun around the house. He was six then, around thirteen years ago. Yet, that same expression still sparked unspeakable fear in him.

"What? I'm not- I haven't been distracted. I'm focused, why would you believe differently?" He put up his familiar, calm, unbothered facade. It was the one thing that granted him an illusion of confidence, of calmness. Well, he was almost certain it was the only thing, although he's not fully sure anymore.

"Are you questioning me?" The gruff voice rang out through the enclosed room, making the walls seem smaller as the words echoed off them, making him involuntarily jump. Another reason for his father to ridicule him, what kind of hard criminal jumps at the familiar sound of a challenging voice?

"No, sir. Sorry, you're right. I'll try harder-" he wa s it short, like always. It was always the same when he steeled into this room.

"Yes! Yes you will try harder. I have a special assignment for you tomorrow." He placed his hand on a sheet that was spread across the table, bringing it forward for him to see clearly. A face, it wasn't one he recognised. A middle aged man, clean hair cut, fake business suit on.

"Don't you recognise him? Jack ó Donnell." The Name resulted in his mind clicking, like clockwork. Another stupid crime boss that roamed the city as if he owned it. Sounds familiar, his 'gang' wasn't much better. The pronoun caused him to feel bile rise up in his throat already, like a strange sense of foreshadowing.

He wouldn't be given this information. Not unless-unless...

"You're going to hunt him down, and you're going to plung that trusty knife of yours into him. End him." He felt frozen and stiff in place as he sat still, staring absently at the picture in front of him. Sure, he was a criminal, but he was just a man. And he dint know it yet, but his life was coming to a brutal end.

And it would be him, him and his 'trusty' knife that would be the last image this man would ever see. And he didn't even know it yet, but Reece did.

And he'd never felt so revolted at a picture in his life. He felt like throwing up, but his stomach felt empty and numb, similar to the remainder of his body.

He was going to be a murder, by the end of tomorrow, he'd be a killer. A new title, his dad went on and on, by he couldn't bring his ears to function properly.

He bolted out of his seat, slamming through all the doors that dared get in his way as he swarmed directionless, not knowing where to go, what to do.

And so he let the decision be led by none other than his subconscious, taking his feet away down the street, going somewhere he wasn't entirely sure of.

That was, until he showed up to the familiar doorstep, banging on the door with ragged, laboured breathing as he failed to inhale the air properly, feeling like he was drowning.

A killer, he would be a killer.

And there was nothing he could do about it. It was his inevitable fate. Who he was destined to be.

—
Aww no look at poor baby Reece :(
He's pretty sad right now, hopefully George can give him a hug. But that won't fix everything.
Also, how has it been 14 chapters already?! I swear nothing has happened yet, so thanks for reading this bore-fest.
Thanks for reading! I love every single one of you who read, vote, comment etc. 💛💛