Vegas Pete: The Treasures (One shots and SHORT STORIES)

Chapter 3

This is insane. There is no fucking way universe was playing a joke on Pete.

It was the best morning he had had in a long time. It had been a week since the encounter with Vegas and Pete had done a successful job staying away from him. It wasn't really hard. He just had to run and hide in certain directions when he saw Vegas approaching him.

His phone was filled with five numbers: one of Macau that he reluctantly accepted because the boy was very kind to him and funny too. The other four were Vegas contacting him through random numbers. At this point Pete wasn't surprised he had his number. The man was in the bloody mafia.

Anyways. Pete was great at ignoring him. But fate was a bitch and Pete was its constant victim.

Pete had a new class this semester—something he thought would be easy to follow through rather than the alternative which is reputedly a tough subject. It was workplace ethics. Pete arrived to class with a bright smile on face, he had his bag arranged, his sweater on and the scarf round his neck. He had to post a picture on his socials after being practically inactive for this whole week—letting his friends know he was alive.

His phone vibrated, a notification popping up: Vegas.theera liked your story. Pete rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore it and entered the class.

The class was going on fairly well, Pete loved to take his notes neatly and store them for his exams and given his professor was great at his job too, he thought it was a great lecture. Until someone walked in mid-lecture.

Human instincts are usually very sharp. A person would feel the sense of danger or anything cathartic in a matter of seconds. Pete and his grandma had the belief it was related to the energy surrounding them. That the human body resonated with positive and negative energy and that we as people could detect an energy that is life altering and send a signal to our brain.

In this case, Pete felt the weight of an energy pulling him down the moment he was in that room. Something demanded his attention and the hair on his arms stood up as soon as he realized whatever the fuck it was. Vegas was in his class.

The boy wasn't even apologetic that he was late, he just walked in with not a single regard to the teacher. Their eyes met and Pete almost stopped breathing. He couldn't avert his gaze. God when could be when Vegas still looked so breathtaking. This was one more reason Pete didn't want to see Vegas whatsoever. He was irrationally attracted to this boy. It was maddening.

Pete prayed he would just sit anywhere else but the space on both Pete's right and left side was empty so of course Vegas trotted over and plopped down right next to Pete with a bright smile.

The teacher stopped, staring at Vegas like he had grown two horns right that moment. Everyone's eyes turned around and followed the teacher. Everyone in the room looked at them, the center of attention.

Pete did love attention. But he loved a good sort of attention. Not the kind he was currently receiving. He wanted to hide his face away in this moment. Vegas must have finally realized it because he looked at the teacher in confusion before realising why he was so stunned.

"Oh my bad. I had a tire puncture," Vegas told the teacher who blinked twice before going back to teaching. He couldn't even bother less.

"Hi," Pete heard Vegas' whisper lowly. Pete shut his eyes and kept looking forward instead of giving his attention to Vegas. If he closed his eyes would the boy disappear already?

Since Pete didn't reply, Vegas did not try to do anything again. He just fidgeted with his hands or doodled a bunch of things on the side of his paper. Finally, after long excruciating hour, the class ended. Pete started to pack his belongings, wanting to sprint away the first chance he got before Vegas caught up with him.