My Dear Laurens (Lams)

J. Laurens

Apparently, Lafayette was not the only person in their friend group that could act.

Laurens averted his gaze from Verryk- better known to Laurens as Hercules Mulligan- and kept his eyes on the ground. The dirt was looking especially interesting this time of year. All cool summer nights and grainy dots under your bare feet. Tiny patches of green and shy flowers. Some trampled, some alive, but caught up in z's. In their soft, feather-like appearance Laurens was entranced, until Verryk, or Mulligan took a step closer to him.

Laurens cursed in his mind. I dropped my head, so you wouldn't come over! Not supposed to be paying any attention to me, idiot.

Then, Laurens' memory flipped a switch of a completed puzzle alert and eye-witness confirmed. He knows all the prisoners. Not just me. He was sent by the general, him and Reem, for me and to notify the general of new information they found. He's just acting. Acting much better than I am too.

Laurens kept his breathing steady, then lifted his chin. Mulligan's eyes were locked on his, and startlingly bare. Darkest brown and analytical. Mulligan analyzed him like a stranger, the prisoner he was. He cupped Laurens' chin and tilted Laurens' head further up so their gazes aligned. Four dying stars in diamond constellation. Laurens sucked in a breath. His eyes flickered to the general briefly, and he plucked a look of surprise from the man's face. He knew Laurens wouldn't act like this around Verryk or Reem. They were agents of the Crown. Ruthless killers, adept spies, and most certainly an enemy to Laurens. But that was not the emotion swimming in his pupils. Laurens held no malicious intent, a knife drawn behind his back for Mulligan, but he did hold uncertainty. A wavering of the heart and mind. And the general was smart enough to pick it out, but he just didn't know why.

Laurens tried to assess his mistake, the fault in each movement, thought, and spoken word, and recalibrate his features from hesitation to anger with a target. His transformation proved well-done, almost charred when Mulligan's eyes crinkled a fraction. The general seemed to brush away his observation as well, and Laurens felt his heartbeat slow. Mulligan's hand was still tightened around Laurens' chin with his fingertips pressing warrior-strength into the bones of Laurens' jaw causing Laurens to grimace. The actor's hatred in Laurens' eyes seemed to come easier now.

"This one has caused you trouble, hasn't he?" Mulligan cocked his head to the right, a taut frown pulling down the skin surrounding his mouth.

The general cleared his throat, and walked up to Laurens, placing himself at Mulligan's side. "Oh, no, no. While he may have tried, it has all been manageable. He's quite simple, actually. As I expected."

Mulligan hummed in response. The general paused, expecting more than a vibration in the back of the throat, but he adjusted to Mulligan's lack of words with provision.

"I am sure you already know this, but this is the man I called you here for. John Laurens, under George Washington's order, as one of his aide de camps. I thought he would have useful information for me, but he proved to be just as useless as the rest of this lot. Even when they found out information about the spy, it still wasn't what I was looking for. It's not like I didn't know that anyway thanks to you and Reem. Silly people, aren't they?"

A soft grumble formed in Lauren's throat, but it did not leave. Probably wouldn't be the best idea to express his displeasure at a time like this. A time when the general had just stated he had no use for them anymore. And a time when the general had the power at hand to kill each and every one of them if the urge came.

Laurens shifted his eyes to match with each of his friends tied next to him. They shared the same understanding he acquired. Their time was about to end. Although, when he glanced at Paragraph, he was given no response. Paragraph's head was face-forward, and Laurens knew Paragraph was aware his stare was on him.