They Who Slaughtered Hope 🌈| 1-2 Updates a Month

Chapter 25

Song of the Chapter: 'So Long, London' (linked at end)

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𝘕𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 19𝘵𝘩, 𝘛𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺

Ren hated himself for this.

He also hated Lennox for the exact same reason.

There was no logic as to why the florist would look this good in streetwear. Something about it stirred a pot's worth of emotions within him.

It was the blue; it had to be. Right?

Ren surveyed Lennox once more. Only after much debate did the florist trade in his stuffy dress shirts, sweaters, and slacks for an embroidered mesh shirt, torn black jeans, and a pale blue satin scarf that was knotted around his neck. Ren's gaze had travelled down and up and down again until he noticed that Lennox's jeans were cuffed.

And interesting detail; they were both liars, it seemed.

Lennox turned his back to Ren, scrutinising himself in a full-length mirror.

From his second-hand view the sniper saw a man who seemed to have everything under control, but his eyes betrayed him, stowing a hint of uncertainty. It showed in his words, too.

"I still don't see what the issue is, Ren. It looks perfectly fine to me," he said, his voice steady although it lacked conviction.

"That's where you're wrong, flower boy." With a swift motion, he spun Lennox around, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt. "You're too uptight," he teased, his voice playful. "No one goes drinking with their shirt fully buttoned. You need to let loose. Live a little."

Colour rushed to Lennox's cheeks when Ren's fingers grazed the florist's chest ever-so-slightly.

The sniper's hands then moved to the scarf, fumbling with the knot that held it there. "And this blue? Are you trying to get killed?"

Despite his confident exterior, Ren's heart was racing, pounding against his chest with an intensity that surprised even him. He was close enough to Lennox that he could feel the heat radiating from his body, and he silently prayed that the florist couldn't hear it.

The scarf finally gave way, and Lennox, with a mixture of frustration and relief, tore it off. The fabric made a snapping sound as it whipped through the air, a stark contrast to the awkward silence that enveloped and strangled them. "It's all that I had."

The quiet was heavy, laden with unspoken words and tension that was thick and suffocating. The only sound was the soft rustle of fabric as it slipped to the floor. The walls seemed to close in, eager to witness the private moment between the pair. It was only a matter of time before Lennox interjected, unable to handle the rising unease that settled upon the room.

"What would you know about letting loose anyway? You don't seem to know a thing about the real world, let alone..."

Ren's hands were on his collar, straightening it with unnecessary force. "I know a lot about letting loose, flower boy," Ren whispered, his voice low. "You of all people should know that."

Lennox didn't, but that didn't stop Ren from using his unreliable memories against him.

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