Infinity Son / Reaper fanfiction Adam Silvera

One !

super creep, wyatt, was in the lead and brighton was already so done with it. he glared despondently against his green-clad back thinking of a million better ways he could be spending his time if he weren't running low on rent to justify spending the remaining cash left in his bank instead of taking handouts from outright creeps. which was something he categorised wyatt into because of a not so long ago history.

the sulky walk they dragged themselves across the long street would only go on so much longer though until they would finally reach their destination, a place emil would surely judge him going to. which was funny because he didn't judge when bright told him he would be going there with wyatt, of all people. sure, he didn't tell him where they were both going but the fact that he would be going someplace no matter how questionable with wyatt seemed expendable to him.

"you want one?" wyatt was holding out a torn pack of cigarettes to him, offering the one that stood out of line. despite everything, something like a smirk dawned on brighton's face that started feeling awkward quickly because at who it was directed to. brighton hastily plucked the cigarette from the pack and resumed walking like nothing happened.

"so i gathered it would be difficult for you to come here after you had to watch prudencia die at the exact same spot, but i thought it would be helpful. it's better to face your problems head on, anyways." wyatt blabbered through the new cloud of smoke already waning away with the wind.

"exposure therapy? seriously?" brighton sneered.

"yeah, why not? i've been through something similar... well, i didn't kill someone but i've watched people die at the hands of others." wyatt said, and brighton was pretty sure he wasn't just imagining the faint hint of derision in his tone. it immediately made the hair on his neck stand. how could this creep possibly think he was any better than brighton, who besides being practically famous on all fronts of social media also never touched another inappropriately or tried to. sure he had touched prudencia before she died, many times, but each and every one of those times was under consent. also she always made the first move anyway.

"are you calling me a killer?"

wyatt looked over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow. "yeah but. didn't you also when you told me to call you Ted Brighton?"

"i was drunk. 2 shots of vodka circling my system and by the time i've said it they were already fully absorbed."

"suit yourself then, ted."

"don't call me that," but as brighton said it, wyatt had already slipped in through the opened low-profile window of the cellar brighton didn't think they'd be reaching with such immediacy. he scanned the poorly lit area of the sketchy block they had passed to make sure nobody had followed them here, then he slipped right after wyatt into the next gloomy dark. his vision blotted out into a thoroughly jet-black shade.