The Pompous and The Prick

Chapter 22: Bated Breath

Despite being a former trapeze artist, Blitz sure did fall flat on his face a lot. Maybe that was why he could never make it in the circus biz; or at least part of it. Standing up and dusting himself off, he spat the taste of dust out of his mouth and began to look around. It appeared that he was standing by a large park. The grass was dry and nearly dead, disc golf baskets used as substitute trash bins, and the occasional used condom and bullet shell lying on the ground. All in all, probably the nicest park in this entire ring. At least, the nicest park that wasn't gated off for only the rich and high born to visit.

Blitz spotted a park bench by a streetlamp and went over to it. Luckily, the chewed gum was only on the armrest so he sat down avoiding it, and sighed to himself. How in hell did he get in this situation? His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out to see a text from Millie. Right, the picture of the letter he had apparently sent to Stolas. D*mn, were these supposed to be words? And the spelling was awful! You'd think they'd have at least tried to make it look like his handwriting. Overall the letter was decently accurate to how he felt, though he would've worded it differently. And it's not that he had panicked when Stolas said that he loved him, it's that he never heard it. When he ran out on that night, he didn't realize Stolas hadn't seen him leave. He must have kept talking for who knows how long, all for him to be gone when he looked up.

Blitz felt a pang in his heart of guilt and shame, a feeling all too familiar to him by now. He took a deep breath and leaned back on the bench. It was going to be fine. He would make it right. He had to, and by the end of the night, he'd be s**king d**k for his majesty again. And this time, he'd stay til morning. Then breakfast, and dinner, and everyday after that if he had to. Anything to make sure Stolas knew that this time, he would stay. He looked at the letter again and saw that M&M had said he'd be at this park at 10 pm. Blitz checked his phone. Given that it was 9:48 pm, he decided to reread the letter Stolas had written to him.

He recognized some of the lines in it from what Moxxie and Millie had said earlier, the stuff about seeing him everywhere and freezing hell over if he asked. D*mn it, he knew those two were being oddly specific. He looked around to see if anyone was looking. It was late, and only half of the street lights were working. The only other people in the park was a snoring mass in a sleeping bag under a far away tree, and two teenagers who might have been on something, with shovels digging a random hole, shouting about how they were going to dig all the way to Sloth. Despite this, he lifted the letter to his face as discreetly as he could and inhaled the smell from it. Most of it was gone now, but he swore he could smell just a little bit of Stolas's cologne, though he maybe just imagined it. F**k, he missed him. How long had it been since he had felt those smooth feathers? Or secretly listened to the beat of his heart? How long had he loved him, and lied to himself about it?

Did Stolas really love him, too? Could he? It didn't seem even in the realm of possibility, but the words in his letter matched all too well how Blitz had also been feeling in their time apart. What did it matter if he really did? There was no way they could be together. They'd constantly face the verbal diarrhea of the prissy pack rats, and probably not much of a welcome from his fellow mites that live off of them. It was all so stupid. In a world where everyone looked out for just themselves, no one could see how f**ked up the whole charade was.

Blitz checked his phone again. 10 o'clock. He tried playing on his phone, but his mind was too busy to focus on any highscore or even new horse outfits. He began mumbling to himself about what he should say to Stolas when he arrived.

"Hey, uh, it's been awhile, huh?" No, too casual.

"It's nice to see you?" Agh, that made it sound like he believed he'd done nothing wrong.

"I'm really, really glad you came." f**k he didn't want to sound desperate.

"You, uh, thanks for coming." heh heh, that's what she said. D*mnit, focus.