The Death of Sarah Jones (ManxMan) ✔️

CHAPTER 5

Elliot sat on his bed, silently reading.

It was a habit he had picked up from Blue.

When Blue wasn't out prowling the prison, asserting his dominance in that effortless way of his, he was here—stretched out on the top bunk, nose buried in a book. Not just any book, but classics. The kind of literature no one would ever expect someone like Blue to read.

If Elliot was being honest, Blue looked like the kind of guy who wouldn't know the words meticulous or plethora. But after spending time with him, Elliot sometimes felt like he should throw away his degree. Blue was smarter than he could ever wish to be. Smarter than anyone else in this place.

A shame no one cared.

Normally, Elliot wouldn't be reading. He'd be bothering Blue—asking pointless questions, telling him stories, or whining about how much he missed home.

But ever since their argument, Blue had been around less. He had stopped reading as much, spending his time playing cards, making deals with sketchy people, and doing who-knew-what outside their cell. And when he was here, the silence was unbearable.

Elliot wanted to say something. Anything. But each time, he bit his tongue.

It wasn't his place.

Sometimes, he wanted to shake Blue, demand to know why this attorney was enough to wedge a distance between them. They had only known each other for a month, and yet Elliot had grown used to the companionship Blue provided. If he was completely truthful, he would even go as far as to say he missed him.

Terribly.

Footsteps echoed against the concrete floor. Elliot looked up just as Blue entered. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Blue looked away, moving smoothly to the top bunk.

Elliot sighed. He closed his book, tucking it beneath his pitiful excuse for a pillow. His hands were shaking as he stood. He hoped future Elliot wouldn't regret what he was about to do.

Blue had just cracked open The Count of Monte Cristo when Elliot spoke.

"Why do you care so much about which attorney I work with?"

Blue didn't look up. "I don't."

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not."

Blue jumped off his bed and brushed past Elliot, making his way toward the door.

Without thinking, Elliot reached out and grabbed Blue's arm, yanking him to a stop.

"No."

Blue turned slowly, pinning Elliot with a glare that almost made him let go.

"No?"

"We're going to talk about this," Elliot hissed.

Blue studied him for a moment before leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. "Okay. So talk."

Elliot swallowed hard. "I barely know you, okay? And I don't know why this attorney has made you pull away from me, but I don't think it's fair to ignore me just because I don't know your history." His voice wavered. His vision blurred. "I know you probably don't like me, and you think I'm the most annoying person ever, but you were the only thing keeping me from losing my mind in this place. And now—now you just stopped paying attention to me, and it's been messing with my head. I started dr—"

Elliot froze.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Oh, fuck.

Elliot liked Blue.

Not friend like. Not bunkmate like.

Like like.

"You started what?" Blue asked, voice steady, but his gaze was sharp.

Tears spilled over, trailing hot down Elliot's cheeks.

He liked Blue. A guy. A prisoner. A criminal.

He hadn't seen that coming.

"So," Elliot whispered, voice shaking. "Why do you care so much, Blue?"

Blue didn't answer. His head lowered, gaze fixed on the floor.

Elliot stepped closer, until they were nearly nose to nose. "Why do you fucking care so much, Ezra?"

Blue's head snapped up at the name.

And then, suddenly—Blue kissed him.

Elliot froze. His mind short-circuited.

For a brief second, Blue started to pull away, as if realizing his mistake. But before he could, Elliot grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back in.

The kiss deepened. It was soft, slow, and tender—everything good in the world. Blue's lips were warm and full, moving against his own like velvet. A quiet groan escaped Elliot as Blue's hand slid to the small of his back, pulling him in.

The moment stretched, sweet and breathless.

When they finally parted, Elliot searched Blue's face, bracing for the worst. For laughter. For a smug "I knew you weren't straight." For some sick, twisted joke.

But when he met Blue's gaze, all he saw was admiration.

A slow smile tugged at Blue's lips. He lifted a hand, running his thumb across Elliot's flushed, freckled cheek.

"I told you not to call me that, white boy," he murmured.

Elliot huffed a breathless laugh, then leaned in, pressing a soft peck to Blue's lips.

It was going to be okay.

—

That night, after more kisses and whispered words, Elliot slept better than he had since his arrest—his head tucked against Blue's chest, rising and falling with each steady breath.

They had made a deal.

Elliot would have one more session with Mrs. Davidson. If anything felt off—even in the slightest—he would call it off, no hesitation. He would find another attorney, no matter how expensive.

Blue said it was a waste of time. That Elliot should cut her off already.

But he agreed.

Because, as much as he hated to admit it—Elliot was a stubborn pain in the ass.

And not even Blue could tell him what to do