Writerverse: Table of Doom - Pierced Through the Heart
More I Prefer the Mind Control. This one takes place right after this story. Enjoy!
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What the fuck just happened?
I exit Myd’s apartment, unable to think anything except what the fuck? That was definitely the weirdest “meet the parent” experience, like, ever. I’ve met parents of partners before. When I met Bonnie’s parents, it wasn’t anything like that. Her father threatened to make me cry if I ever hurt his baby. Bonnie then tore into him for calling her “his baby” when she was a legal adult. Her dad? A bit much, but it wasn’t too weird. And, no offense Mr. Williams, but my dad’s threats are a hell of lot more creative than “make you cry.”
Xan’s dad? No threats at all. Weird. Weirder than fucking weird.
Speaking of fucking weird, I find myself in front of Xan’s apartment, despite having no actual intention of going there and no memory of arriving there. Just, somehow, I ended up in front of his door.
I wanted to, like, process all the weird before I saw him, because it’s making my brain swim. Seriously, why would I even wonder about Xan Breaking me? Getting ahead of myself much?
Two cyborg bodyguards appear outta nowhere in front of his door, like they did at Myd’s door. I recognize one -- it’s Syra. She raises her eyebrow at me, which isn’t exactly professional for a bodyguard, is it?
“I’ll let Xan know you’re here,” she says. How she does that, I’m not sure. It’s something to do with the tech in her brain. I guess Xan’s fancy enough that nobody ever actually uses the doorbell.
Moments later, Xan opens the door, his eyes kinda wide. “Dylan, what are you doing here?” he says.
I shrug. “No fucking clue. I...just came to your door. Uh, may I come in?” I mutter.
Xan smiles and lets me in. I follow him inside his apartment -- it’s fancy, but not as fancy as Myd’s place, which is, like, the official apartment of the rulers of this whole fucking Empire.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks -- Xan’s not one for having servants bring him stuff, even though there totally are servants who would. Krun has his own personal servant army, and Xan has...kitchen staff groupies. They found it hilarious he pretend to be a server at an official royal function -- yeah, he really did that. He actually saved a guy’s life, too -- recognized the smell in his dish was off and figured out the food was fucking poisoned. How anybody has a sense of smell that good, I don’t know.
“Just...sweetberry juice. I already had a glass of Zimaran Blue with your dad,” I say, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Xan’s lips twitch -- he’s fucking amused, for some reason. “I don’t know any other humans who actually like to drink that stuff,” he says.
Why is that amusing? I also don’t get why people don’t like ZB. It’s fucking tasty and doesn’t have that “this is liquor” taste so many Earth drinks do. Sure, I like to get drunk sometimes, but I don’t love the taste of a lot of booze.
I stare at the ceiling and randomly think how bare it is. “You should get one of those fancy crystal mobiles like your dads have. That shit is cool,” I say.
“I would, if you were sharing my apartment with me,” Xan murmurs as he brings two glasses of sweetberry juice to the table.
Excuse me? My face fucking burns, though not quite to egg-cooking levels.
When he sits down next to me, I don’t look at him. “Don’t think we’re at the apartment sharing stage,” I mutter.
“I suppose not,” Xan sighs, taking a sip of his juice. There’s a long pause. “So...did my dad want to -- to know about us?”
“Yeah, he did,” I say, staring at the shiny black table. There’s thin trimming about two inches in from the edge in bright silver. I look at that, rather than at Xan. Should I even fucking tell him what happened?
I can feel Xan’s gaze. It makes me fucking shiver.
“So he did,” he murmurs. “I won’t ask you what he said, as that is private. I hope he didn’t make you too uncomfortable, though.”
Make me uncomfortable? Yeah, he kind of fucking did. I don’t say that, instead taking another sip of sweetberry juice. “He...wants you to be happy,” I say.
My stomach sinks. Could someone as fucked up and immature as me even make Xan happy?
“I know he does,” Xan says.
I dare to look at him. He...does not look happy right now. His eyes are distant, though not in the dreamy way Myd’s were when he talked about Soulbreaking.
“So...what, uh, would make you happy?” I ask. I wanna reach out to him, but I grip my glass of juice instead.
Xan stares right into my eyes, and I can’t fucking look away this time. “Do you truly want to know?” There’s another long pause, one that’s heavy as fuck. “You. You would make me happy.”
It’s a good thing I don’t have any juice in my mouth, or I would spit it out right now. My heart stops -- I kinda had a feeling, but to hear it?
“Even -- even though I fucking dumped you to work shit out with Bonnie, who then dumped me because I suck?” I say, unable to break away from his metallic bronze eyes. Dammit, he’s beautiful -- why the fuck am I thinking that right now?
“I don’t think I was ever really your second choice,” Xan murmurs.
Wait, what? My eyes widen, and -- that doesn‘t fucking compute.
“I...think you chose Bonnie because you felt like you had to, since she came first. I think...you felt guilty for not being able to have equal feelings for both of us,” he says, resting his hands on the table and leaning forward slightly.
I just fucking stare at him -- my head spins, my heart thinks it’s been stabbed and what the fuck?
Xan’s right.
“Even if -- even if that’s true, how -- how can we fucking be anything?” I say.
“Hmm?” His stare is intense enough to set fire to the fucking sun here, never mind the sun’s already made of fire.
“Different worlds, remember?” I lift my hands so they’re level with my shoulders and shrug.
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s your objection?” Another long pause. “After you fit in well enough the media wants you to stay?”
I stick my elbows on the table and rest my head on my hands. “Let’s not talk about the fucking media, okay?” I mutter.
“Alright, but my point is that being from different worlds physically doesn’t mean we can’t be together -- if you want to, of course,” Xan says.
“Right,” I murmur. I lift my head to look at him. “But I...how I treated Bonnie was bad. I ignored her, dismissed her. All that good stuff.”
“You messed up. It happens -- you’re not irredeemable,” he says, smiling.
“Sure about that?” I mutter, looking away and taking another sip of sweetberry juice. Yeah, my heart definitely thinks it’s been stabbed. Remembering Bonnie and how that went down makes me want to puke. I hurt her -- how can I deserve someone as awesome as Xan?
He puts a hand on my shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Absolutely sure,” he says.
Fucking sparks run through me at his touch -- okay, body, now is not the time for that stuff. I look at Xan, and his eyes are shining with some emotion I can’t interpret. He lifts his other hand and brushes it against my cheek. More fucking sparks.
“You’re really gonna take a chance on me and my fucked up feelings?” I say.
Xan nods, not saying anything. I lean forward, getting way too fucking close to him. He moves towards me, and our lips meet. Warmth floods my every fucking atom. He hooks a hand behind my head, and I wrap an arm around his back. Soon, we’re pressed together, kissing with enough energy to set fire to two suns.
My heart feels like it’s being stabbed by the sun -- guilt wants to eat me for enjoying this, but I push it away. It stays. I pull away from Xan, who furrows his brow with apparent concern.
“I still feel bad,” I mutter.
Xan’s got his arms around me, and he doesn’t let me go. And I don’t fucking want him to.
“It’s okay to feel a bit bad,” he says, “just don’t let those bad feelings consume you.”
“I’ll try not to,” I say, “but it’s fucking hard, okay?”
“Of course it is. I wouldn’t expect it to be easy,” he says. His eyes are soft, and looking at him makes me wanna kiss him again. It makes me wanna tell my shitty emotions to fuck off so I can, well, probably fuck.
I squeeze Xan close to me and waste no time deepening the kiss. Yeah, I push my tongue forward, and he lets me, meeting mine with his. My blood fucking rushes through my veins, and I can feel my heartbeat speed up..
Xan’s right -- I can’t let my bad, heart-stabbing feelings win.
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What the fuck just happened?
I exit Myd’s apartment, unable to think anything except what the fuck? That was definitely the weirdest “meet the parent” experience, like, ever. I’ve met parents of partners before. When I met Bonnie’s parents, it wasn’t anything like that. Her father threatened to make me cry if I ever hurt his baby. Bonnie then tore into him for calling her “his baby” when she was a legal adult. Her dad? A bit much, but it wasn’t too weird. And, no offense Mr. Williams, but my dad’s threats are a hell of lot more creative than “make you cry.”
Xan’s dad? No threats at all. Weird. Weirder than fucking weird.
Speaking of fucking weird, I find myself in front of Xan’s apartment, despite having no actual intention of going there and no memory of arriving there. Just, somehow, I ended up in front of his door.
I wanted to, like, process all the weird before I saw him, because it’s making my brain swim. Seriously, why would I even wonder about Xan Breaking me? Getting ahead of myself much?
Two cyborg bodyguards appear outta nowhere in front of his door, like they did at Myd’s door. I recognize one -- it’s Syra. She raises her eyebrow at me, which isn’t exactly professional for a bodyguard, is it?
“I’ll let Xan know you’re here,” she says. How she does that, I’m not sure. It’s something to do with the tech in her brain. I guess Xan’s fancy enough that nobody ever actually uses the doorbell.
Moments later, Xan opens the door, his eyes kinda wide. “Dylan, what are you doing here?” he says.
I shrug. “No fucking clue. I...just came to your door. Uh, may I come in?” I mutter.
Xan smiles and lets me in. I follow him inside his apartment -- it’s fancy, but not as fancy as Myd’s place, which is, like, the official apartment of the rulers of this whole fucking Empire.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks -- Xan’s not one for having servants bring him stuff, even though there totally are servants who would. Krun has his own personal servant army, and Xan has...kitchen staff groupies. They found it hilarious he pretend to be a server at an official royal function -- yeah, he really did that. He actually saved a guy’s life, too -- recognized the smell in his dish was off and figured out the food was fucking poisoned. How anybody has a sense of smell that good, I don’t know.
“Just...sweetberry juice. I already had a glass of Zimaran Blue with your dad,” I say, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Xan’s lips twitch -- he’s fucking amused, for some reason. “I don’t know any other humans who actually like to drink that stuff,” he says.
Why is that amusing? I also don’t get why people don’t like ZB. It’s fucking tasty and doesn’t have that “this is liquor” taste so many Earth drinks do. Sure, I like to get drunk sometimes, but I don’t love the taste of a lot of booze.
I stare at the ceiling and randomly think how bare it is. “You should get one of those fancy crystal mobiles like your dads have. That shit is cool,” I say.
“I would, if you were sharing my apartment with me,” Xan murmurs as he brings two glasses of sweetberry juice to the table.
Excuse me? My face fucking burns, though not quite to egg-cooking levels.
When he sits down next to me, I don’t look at him. “Don’t think we’re at the apartment sharing stage,” I mutter.
“I suppose not,” Xan sighs, taking a sip of his juice. There’s a long pause. “So...did my dad want to -- to know about us?”
“Yeah, he did,” I say, staring at the shiny black table. There’s thin trimming about two inches in from the edge in bright silver. I look at that, rather than at Xan. Should I even fucking tell him what happened?
I can feel Xan’s gaze. It makes me fucking shiver.
“So he did,” he murmurs. “I won’t ask you what he said, as that is private. I hope he didn’t make you too uncomfortable, though.”
Make me uncomfortable? Yeah, he kind of fucking did. I don’t say that, instead taking another sip of sweetberry juice. “He...wants you to be happy,” I say.
My stomach sinks. Could someone as fucked up and immature as me even make Xan happy?
“I know he does,” Xan says.
I dare to look at him. He...does not look happy right now. His eyes are distant, though not in the dreamy way Myd’s were when he talked about Soulbreaking.
“So...what, uh, would make you happy?” I ask. I wanna reach out to him, but I grip my glass of juice instead.
Xan stares right into my eyes, and I can’t fucking look away this time. “Do you truly want to know?” There’s another long pause, one that’s heavy as fuck. “You. You would make me happy.”
It’s a good thing I don’t have any juice in my mouth, or I would spit it out right now. My heart stops -- I kinda had a feeling, but to hear it?
“Even -- even though I fucking dumped you to work shit out with Bonnie, who then dumped me because I suck?” I say, unable to break away from his metallic bronze eyes. Dammit, he’s beautiful -- why the fuck am I thinking that right now?
“I don’t think I was ever really your second choice,” Xan murmurs.
Wait, what? My eyes widen, and -- that doesn‘t fucking compute.
“I...think you chose Bonnie because you felt like you had to, since she came first. I think...you felt guilty for not being able to have equal feelings for both of us,” he says, resting his hands on the table and leaning forward slightly.
I just fucking stare at him -- my head spins, my heart thinks it’s been stabbed and what the fuck?
Xan’s right.
“Even if -- even if that’s true, how -- how can we fucking be anything?” I say.
“Hmm?” His stare is intense enough to set fire to the fucking sun here, never mind the sun’s already made of fire.
“Different worlds, remember?” I lift my hands so they’re level with my shoulders and shrug.
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s your objection?” Another long pause. “After you fit in well enough the media wants you to stay?”
I stick my elbows on the table and rest my head on my hands. “Let’s not talk about the fucking media, okay?” I mutter.
“Alright, but my point is that being from different worlds physically doesn’t mean we can’t be together -- if you want to, of course,” Xan says.
“Right,” I murmur. I lift my head to look at him. “But I...how I treated Bonnie was bad. I ignored her, dismissed her. All that good stuff.”
“You messed up. It happens -- you’re not irredeemable,” he says, smiling.
“Sure about that?” I mutter, looking away and taking another sip of sweetberry juice. Yeah, my heart definitely thinks it’s been stabbed. Remembering Bonnie and how that went down makes me want to puke. I hurt her -- how can I deserve someone as awesome as Xan?
He puts a hand on my shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Absolutely sure,” he says.
Fucking sparks run through me at his touch -- okay, body, now is not the time for that stuff. I look at Xan, and his eyes are shining with some emotion I can’t interpret. He lifts his other hand and brushes it against my cheek. More fucking sparks.
“You’re really gonna take a chance on me and my fucked up feelings?” I say.
Xan nods, not saying anything. I lean forward, getting way too fucking close to him. He moves towards me, and our lips meet. Warmth floods my every fucking atom. He hooks a hand behind my head, and I wrap an arm around his back. Soon, we’re pressed together, kissing with enough energy to set fire to two suns.
My heart feels like it’s being stabbed by the sun -- guilt wants to eat me for enjoying this, but I push it away. It stays. I pull away from Xan, who furrows his brow with apparent concern.
“I still feel bad,” I mutter.
Xan’s got his arms around me, and he doesn’t let me go. And I don’t fucking want him to.
“It’s okay to feel a bit bad,” he says, “just don’t let those bad feelings consume you.”
“I’ll try not to,” I say, “but it’s fucking hard, okay?”
“Of course it is. I wouldn’t expect it to be easy,” he says. His eyes are soft, and looking at him makes me wanna kiss him again. It makes me wanna tell my shitty emotions to fuck off so I can, well, probably fuck.
I squeeze Xan close to me and waste no time deepening the kiss. Yeah, I push my tongue forward, and he lets me, meeting mine with his. My blood fucking rushes through my veins, and I can feel my heartbeat speed up..
Xan’s right -- I can’t let my bad, heart-stabbing feelings win.