Setting Fire to the Stars (mxm)

Chapter 3: Dream

**(Trigger Warning: Note that this chapter may not be appropriate for some readers. It contains elements of violence, bullying, portrayals of sexual assault, profanity, non-con touching, and panic attacks. Reader discretion advised)**

————————————————————
Lauren
————————————————————

After checking for broken bones, positive I had bruised at least one rib, I peered outside the tunnel. Searing flames flickered within the darkness of the forest as beams of blue light streamed down around the hovering spaceship. Through the smoke, I could just make out the smoking body of an overturned car.

"How did this happen?" I mumbled, my eyes drifting over to Peter, who was looking at the cut and burns on his arm.

Peter shrugged, picking some shards of metal from his arm with a grimace. "How should I know? From the looks of it, the whole world's gone to shit," he muttered. While he was busy working on his, he must have felt me staring at him, because Peter started to shift uncomfortably, his blue eyes rising to meet mine. "What?"

I attempted to cross my arms over but found it difficult with my throbbing ribs. "I don't get it. Why'd you save me? Ever since we started high school, you've acted like a total jackass. I thought you hated me."

For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his expression darkened. "First, let's get one thing straight, okay? You don't mention us. Ever. Got it?"

I tried not to roll my eyes and ended up scowling instead.

"And secondly, it doesn't matter why. All that matters is that I did and now you owe me." Peter's harsh tone took on a certain smugness.

I cringed at his words. I did not want to be indebted to Peter. Not after all he'd done to me over the years. "If that's how it is, I'd rather you just let me die. I don't owe you shit."

Peter planted his hands on his hips as he leaned into my bubble, a wolfish smile gracing his lips.

"We'll see about that."

A wicked shiver traveled down my spine as heat flooded my cheeks. Biting my lip, I imagined that voice whispering my name while he held me down and—

I twisted away from Peter. I was done with him. We were not friends, and I certainly was not going to hope for more.

Feeling my head clear from all that adrenaline, I remembered Peter's wound. My eyes fell to the gash on his arm. The burns had cauterized, stopping most of the bleeding. The edges of the wounds were black from the intense heat of the blast.

Closing my eyes in frustration, I sucked in a deep breath. This was going to be difficult. "We gotta deal with your arm first," I informed him, my tone surprisingly calm considering what we'd just been through. My shaky fingers grabbed the bottom of my sweater, pulling it over my head and setting it aside on the dirty ground. Before long, I began unbuttoning my white dress shirt.

Peter's eyes went as wide as saucers. He jumped to his feet as though I'd burned him with a hot poker. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Rolling my eyes, I ignored him as I shrugged out of the shirt. Goosebumps appeared on my bare torso and I shivered slightly from the cold dampness of the sewers. With some effort, I slowly began tearing off long strips of the material. "Making something to wrap your arm with, obviously. You're bleeding all over the place."

He backed away, his body tense as he muttered angrily. "I don't need your help. I don't need shit from you."

I winced at his harsh tone. Go figure, Peter was still an asshole. I should stop expecting him to change just because the world was ending. Taking a deep breath to get my feelings under control, I continued my work, tearing my dress shirt into messy strips.