(A/N: If I spell "Pugsley" like "Pugsly" just know they are the same person. I had this same problem with the names "David" and "Derrick" last book I wrote.)
Third-Person POV
It took three more days, after Pugsley had arrived, for Silas to come back to Emery's home. He was greeted by Emery's mother as she opened the door, kind as always and completely oblivious to what he did to her son. Most times, greeting her made Silas uncomfortable. Had he felt any emotion other than anger most of the time, he would have recognized it as guilt.
Yes, deep inside of Silas there was a heart somewhere. And no, it was not cold or hard. Deep inside Silas was a warm heart that only wanted attention and love from a certain boy. However, that heart was clouded with anger, hate, and resentment. Grudges upon guilt.
Silas was planning his next move. He only had a week until he was summoned back to his home, and he wanted to make it count. The anger inside him: he had to get rid of it. He spent days thinking about it, weighing the pros and cons. Deciding on his next course of action. For years he hurt Emery, but not to this extent. Yes, he beat the kid, but he never had the heart to kill him.
Not until now.
He was tired of feeling angry. He was tired of his parents looking at him like he was a burden. He was tired of them blaming it on Intermittent Explosive Disorder when they should have been blaming it on Emery Adams. Emery Adams: that name sparked his heart like a flame. He wanted to blow up on someone. He wanted to beat in that precious face that he had grown to loathe.
He wanted to kill.
He was even angrier to find that Emery was missing from his home again. If only that pipsqueak would stay in one spot, it would be easier to execute his plan. Silas knew Emery was avoiding him, but he didn't know where Emery went. That made him even angrier.
However, Silas wasn't an idiot; in fact, he was extremely smart. And when it came to him and his prey, nothing could stand in between them.
He listened in on the conversations at the dinner table, hoping to find some clues as to where Emery was. He caught a snippet of conversation that Emery's brother, Pugsley, was having with his mother.
"He's probably out with his boyfriend," Pugsley chuckled.
His what?
"His what?!" his mother gasped, staring at Pugsley with wide eyes. Everyone at the dinner table was looking at Pugsley now.
"Well, when I saw him, he was hanging out with this big, buff, blonde fellow," Pugsley shrugged innocently.
Big, buff, blonde fellow?
"Oh! That must be Emery's friend, Aaron," his mother smiled, "I'm so glad he's making friends. Oh, and I hope that boy turns into more than just friends! Emery needs some love in his life."
Aaron? Who is this Aaron guy? Why is he getting in my way?
"What's his last name?" Silas grumbled, getting angrier. Any second now, he was going to lash out on someone.
The family all looked at him, surprised. He never showed interest in their conversations.
"If I remember correctly...Aaron Will?" Emery's mother looked toward Pugsley for confirmation.
"Yeah, that sounds right," Pugsley nodded.
Silas was steaming with anger now, practically boiling in rage.
Now he had a name, it would be easy to find Emery. He had done this plenty times before. Hunted down and killed his prey.
And if Aaron Will was Emery's so-called boyfriend, Silas wouldn't mind finishing him off too.
~{()}~
Aaron's POV
Emery and I had been hanging out for a while at my house. Only a week more and Emery's cousin will leave for good. Which means I had to get my revenge soon, and that Emery will soon leave my apartment, which will leave me with nothing but a ghost to keep me company. I dreaded not having my...boyfriend with me.
It was so strange to say that. It has been so long since I had a serious relationship. Yeah, I've played around a lot with guys before, but nothing with labels like boyfriend. I also had this strong urge to do boyfriend stuff with Emery, like make some random romantic gestures or take him out on a date or cuddle and watch a movie.
And then I realized that we basically had done all of those things before.
So why haven't I kissed him? I found myself asking. Before I met Emery, I was having sex with guys whose names I still haven't learned. I was flirting with every hottie or cutie that showed interest in me. But those were all just to cover up the pain, the loneliness, that I felt on a daily basis. Emery was more innocent than that; he was more important than some random hookup that I managed to get in bed.
We were cooking pancakes together, something I haven't done with someone since I was living in my mother's house. With Severin, I had made him breakfast in bed and gotten kisses for it. With Emery, he woke up around the same time I did, and we made them together. Somehow, Emery had succeeded in getting pancake batter all over his face and hands. He was pouring the pancake batter into the pan, while I flipped them. I thought it was a simple job for a beginner, but he had spilled the batter twice already and stuck his fingers in it to taste it. Which I would mind if he and I were making these for a bunch of people, but we weren't. We were just making these for ourselves. So, I didn't mind if he tasted the batter; I only reminded him that raw eggs could make him sick.
He tasted it anyway.
Finally, I was flipping the last couple of pancakes while Emery was cleaning up the mess he made. He looked really happy, which I was glad about. He seemed to enjoy cooking with me. I should do it with him more often.
He looked over at me, his hands now clean, and smiled as I plated the pancakes. He was adorable, especially with that little drop of pancake batter that he missed on his cheek.
"You missed a spot," I said, wiping the spot off of his cheek and onto my thumb. I was about to reach for a paper towel to wipe my thumb off when I remembered that this was my boyfriend. And this situation was the classic, cheesy, I-have-the-hots-for-you symbol of love. So, instead of wiping my thumb off like a normal person, I stuck my thumb in my mouth.
Five seconds ago you were ranting about how raw eggs can make you sick. Now look at you, my conscious mocked.
Shut up, conscious. This is for Emery.
And it was worth it too. Emery's cheeks got tomato-red; he suddenly looked shy and flustered. Suddenly, he was even more adorable than before, and now I really wanted to kiss him.
However, from what I had gathered, I was Emery's first boyfriend, so it would be his first kiss. The innocent, goody-two-shoes side of me, which was now only a small part of me, wanted his first kiss to be special, memorable. The other part of me wanted to throw him down on the sofa in my living room and kiss him until he was mewling underneath me.
I pushed those thoughts away before I actually did them. I was starting to feel hot and needy, which was common now that I had stopped being with a guy every two days. But now, I needed specifically Emery and no one else.
Once I pulled out of my inappropriate thoughts, I realized that Emery and I's faces were way too close for comfort. Suddenly, we were slowly leaning into each other without signs of stopping. Emery's eyes were sparkling, his cheeks red, his breath hitched, and his eyes only left mine for a second to glance at my lips.
He wanted a kiss, I realized. If he wanted it right now, then why wait for the "perfect moment"? There is no time like the present, right? But, just to make sure, I had to ask the magic question.
"Can I kiss you?" I whispered. I whispered because there was no reason to talk normally. Emery was so close, I was afraid he could hear my thoughts, let alone my words.
Emery stopped leaning forward and looked at me as if I was insane to ask that question. His eyes looked excited but nervous. I tried to send him a message telepathically: It's okay. I won't judge you for your first time; I'll guide you through it.
He let out a small shaky breath and nodded slowly, as if he received my message.
So, I started leaning forward again, unlike Emery, who was frozen. I was afraid that he felt pressured to do this, but the eagerness in his eyes told me that wasn't true.
I started closing my eyes as our noses brushed against each other; I knew he closed his eyes when I felt his eyelashes brush against my cheek. I almost smiled at this moment; I was going to steal Emery Adams's first kiss. I kept slowly leaning until my lips brushed against his. He jerked back slightly, as if surprised, and then waited patiently for me to do it again. So I did, but this time I sealed my lips completely to his.
He let out a contented and relieved sigh as I pressed my lips onto his completely. His lips were sort of dry and chapped, but it felt good nonetheless. The rough texture actually made me wanted to nibble at them until they bled. Call me a sadist, but I found that hot as hell.
With my thoughts, I wrapped an arm around Emery and pulled him closer, my other hand caressing his jaw. I licked his lip with my tongue and he gasped, allowing me to deepen the kiss, pressing his face closer to mine. He hummed in pure bliss, that is, until I tried to sneak my tongue in his mouth, then he got scared and detached our lips.
He looked dazed, holding onto my shirt with his little fists as if I was the only thing holding him up. He was still in my arms, pressed against my chest, like a little damsel in distress, and his eyes were glazed over, staring at me like I was some god-sent gift.
This kid was going to be the death of me, I swear.
"W-Woah," was the first thing he said after coming out of his daze, "That was so much better than I imagined."
Emery was just too cute. Despite being one year younger than me, he acted like a cute little kid. It was absolutely adorable how innocent he was. His cheeks were all rosy too, so I kissed them. I couldn't help myself.
I pulled away to see a very flustered Emery. I suddenly remembered our pancakes were sitting on the counter next to us, but I wasn't hungry anymore. I wanted more kisses. Good, boyfriend kisses. I missed the feeling of them so much.
"How about we eat our pancakes and watch a movie together?" I asked, smiling at how Emery was still looking at me in awe.
"Y-Yeah," he said, blinking and craning his head towards the pancakes, as if just remembering they were there. He was still in my arms, so, despite not wanting to let him go, I set him free from my grasp. His hands let go of my shirt, and he slowly backed away from me. It looked like he also didn't want to end this moment.
"Syrup?" I asked, gesturing to the bottle on the counter.
"Yes, please," his cheeks were still red, meaning he was still processing what we just did. So, I poured the syrup on both of our pancake stacks and brought them into the living room. Emery followed me dutifully.
I sat on the couch and waited until he sat beside me before I gave him his plate. However, I noticed that he sat a little far away, probably because he didn't know what to do now that we have kissed and felt awkward. I was once a lip-virgin too, so I knew the feeling.
I wrapped an arm around his waist and slid him across the seat until his body was next to mine. I leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "You're a good kisser, for a first-timer." Then kissed his ear.
I wanted him to feel more confident; obviously, he was worried about what would happen next, so I had to assure him that everything is okay. Plus, the comment made Emery even more flustered, and I loved seeing him blush so much.
"T-Thank you," he stuttered, trying to hide his blush by looking down at his pancakes. I decided to change the subject before I embarrass him.
"Your welcome, " I said, "SO, what movie do you want to watch?"
"Can we watch Harry Potter again?" my wide eyes looked at him with awe. If he starts doing stuff like this to me, then we were going to have a problem. I don't know if I can resist a man who suggests Harry Potter as the movie we were going to watch.
This kid, I swear, he's going to be the death of me.
"Hell yeah!" I yelled a little too loudly, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. He smiled at my enthusiasm.
I was starting to get really invested in this boy.
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