Silence.
The curtain by the open window, dancing by the order of the wind.
"Let you be my— what?"
I choke on my own spit as I glare to him.
"I'll be your client. I'll pay you double! Just — let me have you, even just for an hour."
His hands shaking again, vibrating like a stray dog on a busy road.
"I didn't realise you were such a horndog, Lucas."
He can't look human to me anymore. He wants to be treated like a customer? Fine.
That makes me the one in control. That gives me the power in this.
"You want me? You want this?!"
I screech, my lungs exhausting themselves of air as I strip down my trousers, exposing the bruises, the scars, the sickness that is my skeleton.
I sprint, snatching Lucas's arm, yanking him towards me, cradling that soft jawline of his.
"How do you want this to go then?"
I breathe, biting his ear.
He slides a lock hair away from my face yet, refuses to look me in the eye.
"So you're a kiss-first kinda guy?
You got it."
My voice trembles, my chest tightening with each syllable I speak.
"Open your mouth for me then." I hush him, our noses practically pressing against each other.
"You're so tense for a guy who's wanted this from the off—"
Lucas grabs my hips, pulling my body closer, restricting my movements, stroking my back.
He's not like the others, is he? That just makes this whole thing… so much fucking harder.
This isn't what I want to be doing right now. This act isn't meant for Lucas.
I peer downwards, gliding my thumb across the opening of my shirt, lifting it up and over my head.
"Shit," I sniffle, feeling a tug on my hair.
Something's catching on my top.
I pull away the culprit, chucking it without care, letting it wander on the ground beside me.
I really hope he's into guys in pain.
I could definitely let out a whimper right now.
My leg is burning me from the inside out and these tears aren't enough, to relieve me from its fire.
"Seazon. This isn't what I want. You know it's not."
I don't know anymore, I just hate that this whole situation, this life. It's just—
"So fucking hard."
—
Shit— I didn't mean to speak, why isn't this body cooperating today, of all days, cut me some slack.
At least that was the phrase that decided to escape. It's fitting, even though right now, I think my dick could oppose to that.
"Kiss me. Come on! You don't need to hold ba—"
He pulls me in once again, his hands firmer than before. His grip… so certain.
Is he really going to kiss me?
". Seazon."
A gentle press on my forehead, almost like melted chocolate. His kiss, so tender.
He reaches into his pocket, gesturing to my hand.
His fingers find mine, intertwining himself between them, leaving something behind.
A £100 note? That's 5 times what my usual guys pay me.
"It's all I have with me right now, but rest assured Seazon, no money could ever match up to your worth. You are not a price tag, you are not a service."
"You are a big brother."
"You are perfect. Just like each season.
Just like the Sea."
—
Wait.
—
"What…?"
My leg spasms, eyes widening as my body falls limp into his arms.
That pink, glittery scrunchie. Silent — lonely, in the middle of all my shit.
That was what I threw? Am I really that shallow? When everything else is stripped away, the jokes, the clothes.
Am I really just cheap, butchered meat?
My voice fractures, my words falling apart before they could even form.
That bridge between life and death — the peace I felt — it felt just like his arms do now.
"Stay. Please, Seazon. I can't let you go. I won't leave you like last time."
I hesitate, my breath torn between this one and the next because what did he mean by—
"Last time?"