𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 {𝕞•𝕜﹠ 𝕝•𝕗} ➣ ❘ [𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗]

·˚𝙭𝙫𝙞. ༘༄ ꒰𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴꒱ؘ*ੈ✩

•°.✩.°•

Now, you sat in the driver's seat as you drove the car, Marc was in the passenger's seat and Layla was in the back, trying to piece the linen and papyrus into different forms.

"Ay," Marc looked at the damaged clothing he held, "I really liked that jacket. Oh, well," he turned around in his seat to put it behind.

Layla looked at him, finally gathering the confidence to talk, "What was Harrow talking about?"

"What do you mean?" he removed his shirt over his head.

"He said I had a right to know," she replied, "Me and Y/N,"

"I have no idea," he tossed the shirt back and looked for another outfit to wear.

"I never told anyone why I really moved," Layla carried on, "I mean, but he knew, he just saw right through me,"

"Because of your father's death?" you glanced at her through the rearview mirror and she nodded.

"He's just trying to mess with you. You know, he's trying to get in your mind," Marc spoke, " No, don't let him do that. You know, he's got this idea that he can see the true nature of people or some baloney like that. If that were true, I don't think he'd have a bunch of homicidal maniacs as his disciples, would he?"

"So, it's not true?" you questioned, spinning the steering wheel to switch lanes on the road, "What he said about you and—"

"No, it's not true,"

"Marc," you said his name in a tone that meant you were serious, "Be honest,"

Marc only sighed, dropping his head for a moment, "No, Y/N, no," he said strongly, "He's just trying to divide us. Don't let him get in your heads," he added to you and Layla.

"I've known you forever," you uttered, "Every time I learn something new about you, I think, 'That's it. There can't possibly be any secrets left between us.' And then something else pops up, and it's like I've not known you at all—"

"Yeah. You haven't. You don't," he interjected harshly, making you stop mid-sentence.

You bit your tongue, feeling a sharp twist within your heart at his words. You wanted to speak and retort back at him, but then you felt your throat constrict and a burning sensation in your eyes; and refrained from doing so, afraid that your emotions may take over you.

"And maybe we shouldn't have met each other again in the first place," Marc rubbed his forehead in soreness, "Just drive, Y/N,"

Layla furrowed her eyebrows in a scowl at his words, double-glancing at you through the rear-view mirror when she noticed tears gather in your waterline.

Shoving Marc's head angrily, Layla sat on the edge of the seat and rested a hand on the side of her neck, pressing a kiss to the back of your head to offer wordless comfort for the moment.

Marc snapped his head back to glare at her, but then he noticed how much his words had affected you and turned to the front without a word, his jaw tensing as he stared at his reflection on the side mirror.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───