-DISCONTINUED-ISH-Between the Lines, A Lams Fanfic-DISCONTINUED-ISH-

45~Perverse~45

TW: Grooming, pedophilia, cussing, kissing, abuse, and implied smut

Thomas angst!! And it's 3960 words!!!! YAYYYYYY!!!

Thursday: 9:43 PM

Thomas and Charles leisurely sauntered through the expansive and serene campus, their footsteps resounding against the concrete path. 

As they walked, the clanking of Thomas's cane and the hooting of owls pierced through the stillness of the night. 

Joker and Enzo, two stray owls that usually followed them around, flapped silently by their side.

The air was thick with humidity, and the scent of wet grass filled their nostrils. A storm had just passed, leaving behind a trail of destruction. 

The wind had roared like a lion, and the trees had swayed back and forth as if to the rhythm of a song. 

The rain had pelted the ground with such force that it seemed as though the sky was punishing the earth. 

Thomas couldn't help but think of his mother's beatings, which had been just as harsh. 

But he quickly dismissed the thought and wondered if Alexander was okay. 

Although they didn't get along, Thomas knew that Alexander suffered from severe panic attacks whenever there was a storm outside. 

Lafayette had warned Thomas not to make fun of Alexander if he freaked out because of the downpour. 

Charles, on the other hand, sat on the wet grass, positioning Thomas's cane beside him. 

The grass was silky and smooth against his skin, and he let out a deep sigh as Thomas sat next to him. 

The wetness of the grass soaked through their clothes, making them feel cold and clammy.

Charles took out a cigarette case from his pocket and pulled out a lighter, the metallic click of the lighter and the sharp smell of gasoline filling the air. 

"Lee," Thomas said when he saw what Charles was doing. 

"What?" Charles furrowed his eyebrows. 

"The cigarettes!" Thomas motioned to the pack of clean, untouched cigarette cases Charles had in his hand. 

"Do you want one?" Charles asked, grabbing a cigarette and offering the case to Thomas. 

He held the cigarette between his middle finger and index finger, lit it, put it to his lips, and exhaled before coughing a little. 

The smoke from the cigarette lingered in the air, the acrid smell making Thomas feel nauseous.

"No, why are you smoking!" Thomas whispered, the smell of smoke filling his nostrils. 

It reminded him of the times when he and his dad used to grill hotdogs outside, and smoke flowed out of the grill. 

Those were the few times his dad had been home, and he had cherished them. 

"We all did it in high school, or at least thought about doing it," Charles said casually, watching the smoke cloud drift away into the night sky. 

Thomas's stern gaze bore into Lee as if he could see right through him. 

"Lee, get rid of those cigarettes. Your fingers are turning yellow because of them," he said, his voice firm and resolute.

Charles winced at the sudden harshness of Thomas's voice, quickly extinguishing the cigarette and stamping it out.