Post by Jacques Roux on Apr 1, 2016 20:18:22 GMT
Swallow your pride down.
Suck my cockiness. Lick my persuasion. Eat my poison.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Pearlescent canines bit gently at the slip of flesh found about his own lower lip. The boy crouched to bend at the knee, stretching outward ever so carefully with a flint lighter in palm that he had stole borrowed from camp gripped tightly in hand. His thumb struck against its ignitor but nothing came of it other than a few simple sparks. Dammit, come on. He sighed heavily, bringing the device back to knock the opposite end against his thigh in an effort to shake just enough juice to catch one light. That’s all he needed. Just one. Come on, please.
In an instant, the boys’ face was illuminated by the flickering flame, yellow and orange hues contrasting against his olive complexion. One thing could be seen in the colored features however, and that was the wide smile that played across the lower half of his features. It was unlike his usual snark or pompously laced smirk. It was one of excitement. Leaning forward once more, the boy slipped the flame over the wicked end of the already half-burned candle he’d found while rummaging around Raven’s things the week before. The flame grew more prominent as it caught spark on its new host, the edges of the waxed cylinder allowing for a more focused setting of lighted display. Releasing his hold on the ignitor clip, Jacques brought the lighter back to pocket. Now, aided only by the few moments of dusk that remained and the light of the candle he’d just lit, Jacques continued to smile while glancing over his set-up.
The Arker remained perched in a squatted position atop a large, rocky plateau that rested at the base of a small inlet of water which received its flowing supply from a low current waterfall across the way. Draped along the black stone was a thick green blanket Jacques had toted all the way from camp. Though he had made several trips back and forth today, remarked upon and questioned by a few people. Such would explain the small basket, opened on one end to reveal an array of MREs, an apple, and another wrapped and folded blanket. Propped against the basket was a bottle of expired wine, two mix-matched container cups, the lit candle, and a single wildflower. And beside the flower, a rifle -- just like Bellamy had insisted.
Jacques had been so consumed with preparing for this moment, mapping out his idea and what he’d need in his mind for days. But now that it was done? He was left alone with one very final realization, an idea he’d never given thought to before:
What the hell am I thinking..?
Panic struck him like a chord on a piano. His earnest smile faded to a wide-eyed look of momentary terror as he gazed over the intimate scenery that now began to look like something from a horror movie.
Float me.. Bellamy isn’t gay.. What were you thinking Jacques?
It was too late now. He had already told Raven to be sure and set a good story into Bellamy’s mind.
”Don’t wait on him to ask, seek him out when he gets back. He won’t think to ask about me. But make sure you wait until he’s done with.. Everything that he has going on. Okay? That’s important. And.. uh.. Just.. seem panicked. Tell him last you saw I had gone off for a swim at my usual spot. That you haven’t seen me since morning. Act worried. Put on a good show, you owe me.”
After weeks of aquatherapy, she did owe him, but fuck was he kicking himself for that now.
Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe Raven hadn’t told him. Jacques quickly rose to his feet, clenching his fists as an exhibit of expressive nerves. He felt the wetness against his palms. They were sweating. Unclenching his balled hands, he scrubbed them against his pants to wipe them dry. He felt like such an idiot. Bellamy was undoubtedly on his way here by now, and likely with a scare about him. He was going to be pissed when he found out it was all one big set-up. But he was going to be disgusted when he discovered the proposal idea behind it.
He’s your friend, Jacques. He’s your friend and your leader. And you’re fucking ruining that because of what.. Some school girl crush?
Jacques’ expression remained entirely placid, despite all the inner turmoil going on up top. His jowls noticeably tightened, clenched and relaxed -- all in repetitive motions. The boy found himself squinting his eyes shut, trying like hell to mentally escape the scenario he’d just created and having no one else to blame. Maybe it was still salvageable. It had to be. He had to try.
Looking up, Jacques could see stirring in the bushes, he heard the quick footing of steps approaching.
He’s just your friend, Jacques.
The boy glanced hurriedly between the break in the woods and the scene before him. Quickly dropping, he swiped the lid on the basket shut. There was too little time to discard it all. And so he took away the sole component that he knew would be the gravest of giveaways in and of itself.
He cares about you. That’s all it is.
Wrapping the stem of the wildflower into his palm, he stole one final glance to it before quickly crumbling it into his palm, knuckles whitening as it remained hidden in his grip.
Don’t fuck it up.
The boy turned back toward the break in the woods, looking to the familiar face as he broke way, masking the shame of the chance that he took in a palm behind his back.
In an instant, the boys’ face was illuminated by the flickering flame, yellow and orange hues contrasting against his olive complexion. One thing could be seen in the colored features however, and that was the wide smile that played across the lower half of his features. It was unlike his usual snark or pompously laced smirk. It was one of excitement. Leaning forward once more, the boy slipped the flame over the wicked end of the already half-burned candle he’d found while rummaging around Raven’s things the week before. The flame grew more prominent as it caught spark on its new host, the edges of the waxed cylinder allowing for a more focused setting of lighted display. Releasing his hold on the ignitor clip, Jacques brought the lighter back to pocket. Now, aided only by the few moments of dusk that remained and the light of the candle he’d just lit, Jacques continued to smile while glancing over his set-up.
The Arker remained perched in a squatted position atop a large, rocky plateau that rested at the base of a small inlet of water which received its flowing supply from a low current waterfall across the way. Draped along the black stone was a thick green blanket Jacques had toted all the way from camp. Though he had made several trips back and forth today, remarked upon and questioned by a few people. Such would explain the small basket, opened on one end to reveal an array of MREs, an apple, and another wrapped and folded blanket. Propped against the basket was a bottle of expired wine, two mix-matched container cups, the lit candle, and a single wildflower. And beside the flower, a rifle -- just like Bellamy had insisted.
Jacques had been so consumed with preparing for this moment, mapping out his idea and what he’d need in his mind for days. But now that it was done? He was left alone with one very final realization, an idea he’d never given thought to before:
What the hell am I thinking..?
Panic struck him like a chord on a piano. His earnest smile faded to a wide-eyed look of momentary terror as he gazed over the intimate scenery that now began to look like something from a horror movie.
Float me.. Bellamy isn’t gay.. What were you thinking Jacques?
It was too late now. He had already told Raven to be sure and set a good story into Bellamy’s mind.
”Don’t wait on him to ask, seek him out when he gets back. He won’t think to ask about me. But make sure you wait until he’s done with.. Everything that he has going on. Okay? That’s important. And.. uh.. Just.. seem panicked. Tell him last you saw I had gone off for a swim at my usual spot. That you haven’t seen me since morning. Act worried. Put on a good show, you owe me.”
After weeks of aquatherapy, she did owe him, but fuck was he kicking himself for that now.
Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe Raven hadn’t told him. Jacques quickly rose to his feet, clenching his fists as an exhibit of expressive nerves. He felt the wetness against his palms. They were sweating. Unclenching his balled hands, he scrubbed them against his pants to wipe them dry. He felt like such an idiot. Bellamy was undoubtedly on his way here by now, and likely with a scare about him. He was going to be pissed when he found out it was all one big set-up. But he was going to be disgusted when he discovered the proposal idea behind it.
He’s your friend, Jacques. He’s your friend and your leader. And you’re fucking ruining that because of what.. Some school girl crush?
Jacques’ expression remained entirely placid, despite all the inner turmoil going on up top. His jowls noticeably tightened, clenched and relaxed -- all in repetitive motions. The boy found himself squinting his eyes shut, trying like hell to mentally escape the scenario he’d just created and having no one else to blame. Maybe it was still salvageable. It had to be. He had to try.
Looking up, Jacques could see stirring in the bushes, he heard the quick footing of steps approaching.
He’s just your friend, Jacques.
The boy glanced hurriedly between the break in the woods and the scene before him. Quickly dropping, he swiped the lid on the basket shut. There was too little time to discard it all. And so he took away the sole component that he knew would be the gravest of giveaways in and of itself.
He cares about you. That’s all it is.
Wrapping the stem of the wildflower into his palm, he stole one final glance to it before quickly crumbling it into his palm, knuckles whitening as it remained hidden in his grip.
Don’t fuck it up.
The boy turned back toward the break in the woods, looking to the familiar face as he broke way, masking the shame of the chance that he took in a palm behind his back.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
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