Chapter Text
Don’t go near the pretty boy. He’ll hurt you.
The first time you see him. Night out with friends, your old girl long forgotten, Nyma, some bitch who screwed you over left you for a guy with big biceps and no shirt. You go to the good places the best pubs, the cheap ones with good company. Then, drunk enough to be brave you go to the cool joints, where hipsters and stoners hang out, where the girls with too much make up stand and the jocks with too little brain go. Boring. The other places were dull but the hipsters let you in – Clever is the new cool and you friends are the smartest in the place – but tell you to leave when Pidge gets into an argument about the moon landing. Who knew? Then, as you leave he pulls up.
He’s on a red bike, motorbike, in black clothes, black leather, walks past you, looks through you. Had you seen him before? Maybe. The mullet was familiar, but all black was something that they all wore. He could have been anyone. He was no one else. Please be mine. Please see and speak to me.
You went back once or twice. Alone. The others teased you, then warned you, then gave up and left you alone. You would see him sometimes.
Standing, too cool to pose, and letting the haze swallow him, the cigarette smoke eating him alive. Eat me too. Eat my heart out. Eat me alive, bloody and raw.
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First time you see him. Lover boy. Lights are a dim haze and you have cloaked yourself in smoke and cooler friends who you hate. You see him. To say he was a light through the gloom would be clichéd. He wasn’t. But even so…
He was an electric blue, lit by too many phones off some old t-shirt that certainly did his body justice. He didn’t see you. Probably anyway. He was laughing with a bunch of friends, who you knew by sight and reputation only.
The geniuses (not geeks) and then Shiro and Allura, and Shay. They were activists or something. The handsome man and the beautiful woman who were the definition of soul mates and who were basically your brother and sister, and then one half of the best couple in town.
Hunk and Shay. Shay and Hunk. The nicest power couple, who would come crashing down on your head if you hurt one half of them.
and him?
Lance.
He was known as a fuckboy from a friend of a friend, who apparently gave up on her after two months. Then there was a guy another girl and another girl. All three months or less. You hadn’t seen him then. Just word of mouth. They didn’t do him justice.
Fuck you fell.
Spent the next two days stalking him on Facebook and Instagram, didn’t follow him or like a single post just looking and saving all the photos of him that you could find.
You didn’t see him much after that. He hung out in different places to you. But when you did see him you tried to ignore him. He is not good for you. You knew. Ignore him and you’ll stop feeling. Except. He looked good in any light. Day night the crappy orange of the streetlights. Tan glowing. What you would give to see that tan up close…
You hide behind those friends you hate again and let the smoke swallow you and take you away.