'𝙃𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙚 𝘿𝙖𝙡𝙚.'
They weren't suppose to. It was illegal, they're parents enemies. He was suppose to hate every fibre of his being, he thought he did at first. That stupid laugh, that unruly...
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━𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚━
'𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮.'
Curtains shut, sunlight bleeding in from the ragged edges. Low cheers, the shuffling of merch scratching the table. The scent of starved breaths against the hot heat wafting in the air, his nose scrunched. The slides of fresh cards, scattered everywhere. Ten of them circling around the table, all males. Bets spinning around, knocks on the wooden ground. His face blank, the other grinned in triumph. Wiping the sweat of his forehead, he placed a card on the deck, glancing at his necklace on his debt pile. The other boy placed down another set, the others cheered patting and shaking him. He picked up a card, stuck on the last five cards, he was waiting for the right time, only time was running on lava. The other boy placed down another card, all eyes were on him
"Can taste the family heirloom Elio,'' the boy said, his lofty voice chiming in the airs, placing down another set, he was one card away from winning. Elio knew he was cheating.
"Yeah, don't wear it out,'' he muttered, the two were shooting daggers at one another. He smirked.
There was a knock, one of the other boy's henchmen answered it. "Dean's looking for Elio.''
Elio glimpsed at all the faces looking back at him, swallowing, he took a deep breath. He hoped it wasn't that time again, maybe he found out about the gambling.
The older boy looked Elio dead in the eye, placing down his last card. Elio glimpsed at his cards, a glint of triumph in his eyes, he raised a finger, tutting. The other boy rolled his eyes, "What.''
Elio stood, placing down his last six cards, "It's impolite to not let others have a chance.''
They were all kings, queens and aces, the other boy looked at Elio in dismay. A smirk plastered Elio's face, he grabbed his necklace, leaving the rest of his winnings. "You won, aren't you gonna take it,'' the boy asked.
Elio bent, whispering into his ear, "It has no worth to me.''
The crowd went silent, as Elio left his dorm.
The boy checked the cards again, "That sneaky little b-''
Elio dashed past the various dorms, jogging down the halfpace. His checkered vans skidding past the empty classrooms, hitting his hands against the doors. He caught himself on the wall at the edge of the corridor, jogging down the second halfpace of stairs.
He winced at the sun, the waft overgrown grass, he reached the front of the school. Taking in a mouthful of air, there nothing like the air of a prestigious school, he had yet to be kicked out of. Glancing at the eye-burning orange at the sign of the school. Regis was crossed out and Rejects was painted above it, the light shining off of the dean's head, he was wishing well to a blond haired boy. He jogged down the stairs, the sun stabbing at his arms, his hands clutching his necklace.
