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“Does the cemetery even have enough space for these bitches?” I inquire as if I give a shit. Truthfully, I’m trying to ignore my brewing anxiety.
The clock continues to tick, second after second. The expectations of us choosing a Queen pawn for our ruling era at Leighton Royals University has a deadline.
One that’s approaching far too quickly.
I won’t be made a mockery before our peers who aren’t worthy to be in the same room as us. If it wasn’t for the education system and the logistic importance of intelligence when it comes to running empires in our world of financial abundance, we could be on our way to this gambling game called life.
Only this isn’t how it works here in Leighton.
Education is key. It’s favored and praised. Without it, you’re all but ostracized from the society of wealth and superiority.
That’s why we’re forced to play pretend. Roaming around these ancient architectural works of art used to cradle cocky bastards and horny bitches who would go to any lengths to acquire a fraction of the wealth we’ve been born into.
“Not a problem,” Ares casually mutters.
He’s sitting on the metal stairs of the platform I’m casually sitting on.At least the top edge of it. On the rail. That’s easily ten feet high.Being a Parkour athlete a few years back, I can land easily without breaking shit. Just thinking about it makes me want to attempt it, even though the last time I did Parkour was when I was twenty.
Can I survive without injury at twenty-three? Tempting to try.
“What are you thinking about, Zander?”
I’m forced to look at Domino.
He’s going to pop a few blood vessels if he strains his face like that any longer. Even more so, he’s pacing all over the place as if he’s desperate to get twenty thousand steps today.
Fitness psycho.
“Me? Worried about your royal brother, Dom? That’s so nic?—”
“It’s the twinkle in your eye that worries him,” Ares interrupts. He’s not even looking at me. He has his eyes closed, as if he’s ready to take a nap after hours of boredom.
“How would you know whether my eyes are twinkling or not?” I toss at him. I just want to watch him open his eyes to taunt me with his lifeless eyes.
If I bent both ways, I truthfully wouldn’t mind Ares at all. Those eyes of his are dangerous enough to bring any woman or man into his bed. No wonder why he’s being chased by every modeling agency in Leighton Hills District.
“Are you going to accept that Hermes modeling contract, by the way?” I bring up, or else I’ll lose the train of thought.
“Not sure,” he answers first. “And you look like you’d jump off that ledge for fucking shits and giggles. That’s the twinkle I’m referring to.”
“Again, your eyes were closed,” I huff.
This is what makes Ares dangerous. He doesn’t need to “see” shit. His senses are so high up to borderline impossible that I’m left feeling quite envious of what many in our fucked-up world would deem a ‘gift.’
Turning your six senses on and off whenever you feel like it? Fucking messed up.
I know it’s some sort of disease that lies in his genetic receptors or whatever they teach you in science class, but fuck. If I could close my eyes and heighten my other senses as he does, I’d never need to open them during sex.
Let me be sucked and appeased in the comforting darkness.
“Benefits of being blind,” Ares tosses and looks away to check his phone. “16:10. Looks like shits over.”
“You were ONCE blind,” I remind him. “You’re not anymore. Just like you were once deaf.”
“It can’t be over,” Domino snaps. “You know what an embarrassment it would be if we don’t show up with a Queen tomorrow at the university? I’m positive my whole fucking family will show up. Parents. Grandparents. No fucking way.”
Domino and his drama lama family theatrics.
“You can’t carry those same benefits if you’re no longer handicapped.” I’m still on the previous topic.That’s just how my brain works.
