Subdue-X

The Illusionist's Drug

I was slipping on a pair of light robin egg blue sweatpants when Christian heard my movement and came to check on me.

"Grey and light blue?" he cocked an eyebrow as I pulled his grey shirt over my static-y hair.

"What of it?"

He shrugged, a hint of a smirk forming as he stepped closer. His hands gently brushed against my back, smoothing down the shirt. The simple touch was grounding, a quiet reminder of his presence.

It was nighttime, and the moon shone through the crack of the curtains, casting a soft glow. He scratched his head, half awake himself, watching me drag my feet past him.

"Where are you going?" His voice held a trace of exasperation as he flicked a hand out from his side.

"I don't know," I mumbled, tucking my feet into white socks that matched my black and white Reebok sandals. I threw my dark brown hair underneath a baggy charcoal hoodie. I looked like a disaster, but it was dark. Who'd see?

"I'm borrowing your toque," I said, snatching his black one off the counter. As I struggled to adjust it, he stepped forward, his fingers brushing against my forehead as he helped pull it down snugly over my hair. The small gesture, though done in silence, was intimate, a quiet form of affection.

He slammed his phone into the bar counter after reading a work notification and crossley jammed his feet into his sandals. I predicted this would happen. The tension in the room was thick, and I was a little agitated that I couldn't breathe in my own air by myself.

"You just shattered your phone," I said, lifting it off the counter, staring at the spiderwebbed screen.

"Good," he growled sourly. But as he took the phone from my hand, his fingers brushed mine, lingering for a brief moment, as if silently apologizing for his mood.

As we left the complex, the driver who was still nameless to me was waiting by the car, his eyes locking onto mine.

 A flash of alarm crossed his face, something frantic in the way he shook his head quickly at me—an action meant for my eyes only, hidden from Christian’s view. The concern in his gaze made my stomach twist. Then, as Christian stepped out, the driver’s expression shifted to something casual. He gave Christian a nod and asked, “Where are you off to?”

“None of your business,” Christian shot back, his tone sharp.

The driver's eyes narrowed slightly, his concern still evident, but now tinged with something else—maybe a touch of grace under pressure. “Is Pin aware—” he began.

Before he could finish, Christian grabbed my arm, pulling me away faster. “He’s not in charge of her at the moment.” Christian defended, leading me towards the car. 

I glanced back at the driver scoffing, catching the narrowing of his eyes and the subtle tension in his posture. As we moved away from the building, I couldn't erase the urgency etched on the driver’s face before he disappeared inside.

Christian started the Lexus. I swung myself limply into the passenger side. As he drove, I could feel his frustration radiating off him. I couldn’t figure out if it was directed at me or his work.

"What's going on?" I questioned numbly, watching the city lights blur as we sped through the quiet streets.

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"Work," I ventured, having a slight idea he knew about people working on recreating the drug.

"It's very... complicated," he huffed, gripping the wheel with one hand. I nodded, not bothering to press further because it probably was difficult to explain.