Writerverse: Table of Doom - "Everybody Lies."
More stuff that might happen in I Prefer the Mind Control. It takes place right after this. Enjoy!
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“You’re a what of what now?” My jaw drops, and I just stare at Xan. I heard him, but something must have gotten confused on the way to my brain because what?
“A Prince of Zimara,” he says, an unreadable expression on his face. And, yeah, he definitely is blushing.
If I thought the air in here was weird before...“You’re lying,” I breathe as I lean back on the couch. The adrenaline from the fucking assassination attempt hasn’t completely worn off yet, either. I still feel kind of dizzy and off.
Syra shakes her head and smiles. It’s half amused and half exasperated. “He’s not lying.”
When his blush dies down, Xan’s eyes look...sad? My ability to read Zimaran facial expressions must be messed up because how the fuck is this something to be sad about? That does not compute.
In order to get things to make any fucking sense, I blink my eyes a bunch of times and pinch myself. That pinch hurt, so I know I’m not dreaming. Hallucinations are a possibility, but, somehow, this ridiculousness feels real. Maybe that’s the residual adrenaline, but I truly don’t think my brain is making this up.
“What did you pinch yourself for?” Syra looks at me funny.
“Because I’m not sure any of this is real.” I gesture at Xan. “I mean, he fucked me. A whole bunch of times. Apparently he likes having sex with me. Commoners don’t sleep with princes except in dreams and pornographic fairy tales.”
That gets Xan to laugh. “I assure you, you’re not dreaming.” Now, his eyes sparkle again, a little bit. But there’s still sadness in them.
“But why wouldn’t you, like, tell me?” My head swims with the sheer fucking confusion of it all, and I need to lean against the side of the couch. “I would think your chances of getting laid would only go up if you let slip that you’re fucking royalty. Wait, am I even supposed to curse around fucking royalty?”
Great job, curse in the very sentence where you’re asking if it’s even okay to curse. I smack my forehead.
“Did I mind your use of profanity before?” Xan asks, smiling.
I shake my head. “Uh, no...but I didn’t know who you were. And, seriously, why didn’t you tell me? That’s kind of a huge lie by omission.”
“Have you ever lied about anything important?” he says, looking weirdly sad again. He folds his hands in his lap and stares at the ceiling while Syra just stands there, silently watching us. She’s curious, like she wonders how Xan is going to handle this reveal. So far, he’s handling it with more than a bit of “what the fuck.”
“Sure, I’ve lied about important things. It’s something people do, except lying to my parents about my bad grades is totally different. That makes sense because who wants their smart parents to know they’re failing algebra? And that’s nowhere near the same scale,” I say. I shift in my seat and sit up straighter despite still feeling kinda dizzy. My eyes focus on Xan, trying to figure out just what is going on with him.
You know what else? It’s a fucking safety concern to have a royal booty call because of the, um, apparent assassination attempts.
“It’s not the same scale.” Xan doesn’t move his eyes away from the ceiling.
“So, could you, um, please explain why you lied?” I say. Maybe if he explains himself, I won’t feel so shaky anymore.
“I...” He trails off. “I...kind of wanted to be normal, you know?”
My jaw drops again, and then I start laughing. Yeah, I know that’s more than a bit rude, but...”You say you want to be normal when you got an entire botanical garden shut down for us? When you live in this fucking apartment?”
Xan’s place is huge -- he lives in the penthouse, too. The apartment’s got two floors, and everything’s beyond state of the art. All the black and silver furniture is the fanciest stuff I’ve ever sat on or slept in. When I first saw this place, I nearly lost it from the luxury.
“Dylan’s got a point there, Xan,” Syra mutters, putting a hand on her hip.
“He does,” Xan sighs. He takes his eyes off the ceiling and looks at me.
I blink and almost want to turn away because his gaze is so strange right now. Never have I seen such intense emotion from him. Never have I seen him look so fucking faraway, either.
“Maybe ‘normal’ is the wrong word,” he says in what’s almost a whisper. “But I never...wanted the responsibility of being royalty.”
“You never what?” I say. I don’t stop looking at him, even as the air gets hard to breathe again. I so want to understand what’s going on.
“Ever...felt like you weren’t good enough?” he murmurs. His body’s so fucking still right now. So is the atmosphere in the living room. Everything’s kinda frozen, and I’m just waiting. This whole situation? It’s bizarre -- I never expected to deal with so much feeling from Xan, and it’s kinda hard to handle. My chest hurts, because I have felt like I wasn’t fucking good enough. All the time. Has he really felt the same way?
Slowly, I manage to nod. “Yeah, I’ve felt like that. But, seriously, you feel like you’re not good enough? You’re awesome and sexy and, just, what?”
“Thank you.” He takes my hand. “That means a lot to me, though I still don’t think I’m at all suited to leading an interplanetary kingdom. My brother Krun will take the throne, I’m almost positive.”
“Almost positive?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Succession isn’t determined by birth order on Zimara. It’s far more complicated than that,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes still look weirdly faraway. “I won’t get into it too much now, but there’s a sort of competition between royal siblings as to who will rule. It’s done that way in order to get the best possible leader.”
That’s a thing people do? I never heard of anything like that. Then again, I didn’t exactly, um, pay as much attention as I should have in World History.
Without letting go of Xan’s hand, I lean on the side of the couch again. Things have gotten so fucking weird.
“So...do you still want to keep seeing each other like we’ve been doing?” he asks.
Wait, what?
I sit up, my heart pounding just a bit. Is he going to end our friends with benefits thing? I fucking hope not. “Excuse me?” I say.
“Do you still want our...arrangement, even though I lied to you?” Xan says. The sadness and distance in his eyes is almost too much to take.
“Um, I hope you’re not breaking things off. Because that would really suck,” I say, squeezing his hand. I try to smile, but I’m not sure how good a job I do.
He smiles back. “I’m not, if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t. You’re still sexy, okay? And I don’t want to stop sleeping with you.” Things are still so weird and confused. I’m still fucking out of it, but I don’t want to stop having sex with Xan.
While he lied about something huge and that sucks, I think I can handle everything. I want to keep this going.
As long as there aren’t any more fucking assassination attempts.
---------
“You’re a what of what now?” My jaw drops, and I just stare at Xan. I heard him, but something must have gotten confused on the way to my brain because what?
“A Prince of Zimara,” he says, an unreadable expression on his face. And, yeah, he definitely is blushing.
If I thought the air in here was weird before...“You’re lying,” I breathe as I lean back on the couch. The adrenaline from the fucking assassination attempt hasn’t completely worn off yet, either. I still feel kind of dizzy and off.
Syra shakes her head and smiles. It’s half amused and half exasperated. “He’s not lying.”
When his blush dies down, Xan’s eyes look...sad? My ability to read Zimaran facial expressions must be messed up because how the fuck is this something to be sad about? That does not compute.
In order to get things to make any fucking sense, I blink my eyes a bunch of times and pinch myself. That pinch hurt, so I know I’m not dreaming. Hallucinations are a possibility, but, somehow, this ridiculousness feels real. Maybe that’s the residual adrenaline, but I truly don’t think my brain is making this up.
“What did you pinch yourself for?” Syra looks at me funny.
“Because I’m not sure any of this is real.” I gesture at Xan. “I mean, he fucked me. A whole bunch of times. Apparently he likes having sex with me. Commoners don’t sleep with princes except in dreams and pornographic fairy tales.”
That gets Xan to laugh. “I assure you, you’re not dreaming.” Now, his eyes sparkle again, a little bit. But there’s still sadness in them.
“But why wouldn’t you, like, tell me?” My head swims with the sheer fucking confusion of it all, and I need to lean against the side of the couch. “I would think your chances of getting laid would only go up if you let slip that you’re fucking royalty. Wait, am I even supposed to curse around fucking royalty?”
Great job, curse in the very sentence where you’re asking if it’s even okay to curse. I smack my forehead.
“Did I mind your use of profanity before?” Xan asks, smiling.
I shake my head. “Uh, no...but I didn’t know who you were. And, seriously, why didn’t you tell me? That’s kind of a huge lie by omission.”
“Have you ever lied about anything important?” he says, looking weirdly sad again. He folds his hands in his lap and stares at the ceiling while Syra just stands there, silently watching us. She’s curious, like she wonders how Xan is going to handle this reveal. So far, he’s handling it with more than a bit of “what the fuck.”
“Sure, I’ve lied about important things. It’s something people do, except lying to my parents about my bad grades is totally different. That makes sense because who wants their smart parents to know they’re failing algebra? And that’s nowhere near the same scale,” I say. I shift in my seat and sit up straighter despite still feeling kinda dizzy. My eyes focus on Xan, trying to figure out just what is going on with him.
You know what else? It’s a fucking safety concern to have a royal booty call because of the, um, apparent assassination attempts.
“It’s not the same scale.” Xan doesn’t move his eyes away from the ceiling.
“So, could you, um, please explain why you lied?” I say. Maybe if he explains himself, I won’t feel so shaky anymore.
“I...” He trails off. “I...kind of wanted to be normal, you know?”
My jaw drops again, and then I start laughing. Yeah, I know that’s more than a bit rude, but...”You say you want to be normal when you got an entire botanical garden shut down for us? When you live in this fucking apartment?”
Xan’s place is huge -- he lives in the penthouse, too. The apartment’s got two floors, and everything’s beyond state of the art. All the black and silver furniture is the fanciest stuff I’ve ever sat on or slept in. When I first saw this place, I nearly lost it from the luxury.
“Dylan’s got a point there, Xan,” Syra mutters, putting a hand on her hip.
“He does,” Xan sighs. He takes his eyes off the ceiling and looks at me.
I blink and almost want to turn away because his gaze is so strange right now. Never have I seen such intense emotion from him. Never have I seen him look so fucking faraway, either.
“Maybe ‘normal’ is the wrong word,” he says in what’s almost a whisper. “But I never...wanted the responsibility of being royalty.”
“You never what?” I say. I don’t stop looking at him, even as the air gets hard to breathe again. I so want to understand what’s going on.
“Ever...felt like you weren’t good enough?” he murmurs. His body’s so fucking still right now. So is the atmosphere in the living room. Everything’s kinda frozen, and I’m just waiting. This whole situation? It’s bizarre -- I never expected to deal with so much feeling from Xan, and it’s kinda hard to handle. My chest hurts, because I have felt like I wasn’t fucking good enough. All the time. Has he really felt the same way?
Slowly, I manage to nod. “Yeah, I’ve felt like that. But, seriously, you feel like you’re not good enough? You’re awesome and sexy and, just, what?”
“Thank you.” He takes my hand. “That means a lot to me, though I still don’t think I’m at all suited to leading an interplanetary kingdom. My brother Krun will take the throne, I’m almost positive.”
“Almost positive?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Succession isn’t determined by birth order on Zimara. It’s far more complicated than that,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes still look weirdly faraway. “I won’t get into it too much now, but there’s a sort of competition between royal siblings as to who will rule. It’s done that way in order to get the best possible leader.”
That’s a thing people do? I never heard of anything like that. Then again, I didn’t exactly, um, pay as much attention as I should have in World History.
Without letting go of Xan’s hand, I lean on the side of the couch again. Things have gotten so fucking weird.
“So...do you still want to keep seeing each other like we’ve been doing?” he asks.
Wait, what?
I sit up, my heart pounding just a bit. Is he going to end our friends with benefits thing? I fucking hope not. “Excuse me?” I say.
“Do you still want our...arrangement, even though I lied to you?” Xan says. The sadness and distance in his eyes is almost too much to take.
“Um, I hope you’re not breaking things off. Because that would really suck,” I say, squeezing his hand. I try to smile, but I’m not sure how good a job I do.
He smiles back. “I’m not, if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t. You’re still sexy, okay? And I don’t want to stop sleeping with you.” Things are still so weird and confused. I’m still fucking out of it, but I don’t want to stop having sex with Xan.
While he lied about something huge and that sucks, I think I can handle everything. I want to keep this going.
As long as there aren’t any more fucking assassination attempts.