Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 2: Whispers

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Lauren
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The deafening blast threw my feet out from under me, my world tilting. Pain, hard and raw, exploded from the back of my head as I collided with the sandstone floor.

Fire laced down my spine, a scream tearing from my throat. Harsh breaths sawed in and out of my lungs as I blinked the dust from my eyes, coughing up grains of sand and dust. A high-pitched tone echoing in my ears.

A blur of fuzzy shadows pitched across the room, swarming in a river of black, formless shapes. Something warm seeped into my right eye and when I gingerly touched the area, my fingers coming away red.

Fucking hell, what was that?

Pushing myself onto my elbows with a groan, the air was once again knocked from me when a heavy weight collapsed against my chest, forcibly pinning me to the floor. The action doubled the agony lacing through my head and I attempted to push whatever had fallen off of me.

My woozily vision slowly cleared, the darkness giving way to the sights of scrambling bodies clamoring for the door. The heady smoke clouded a large portion of my view. Rising with the cries, the haunting echoes of inhuman whispers rang in my ears like nails scraping on a chalkboard.

The sconces flickered as the pillars shook, the building itself groaning like a monstrous beast rousing from slumber, a resounding crash signaling the fall of the grand chandelier. Glistening crystals fractured across the tile in a shower of glitter.

Blinking a mix of dirt and sweat from my eyes, I realized the weight pinning me had a heartbeat. I craned my head to the side, black hair eclipsing my vision.

"Fuck."

A shudder drove the cold from my body, that throaty groan having been spoken directly in my ear. Hot breath caressed the side of my neck and I dared not move a muscle.

I knew that voice.

Almost against my will, my head turned to see who had pinned me down. Grey collided with midnight blue and my whole world shook for a second time. Only one person on Earth had ocean eyes like those. We were flush up against one another; chest to chest, hip to hip, his forearms braced on either side of my head. I could feel his rapid heartbeat through my clothes, our bodies aligned, noses brushing.

Hovering over me was my tormentor, the star of my worst fucking nightmares, the god of football himself.

Surprise was frozen on Peter's face, his hair falling into his eyes, a thin coat of dust settling atop those black locks like flakes of frost. Heat nestled up in my cheeks, muscles locking up and I dared not even breathe. I felt like a mouse caught in a trap.

Confession time.

Peter was my first crush. Yeah, I know it's cheesy as hell. But he wasn't always like this. An asshole, I mean. He used to be cool and not a total douche. Even though we were so different, we got along like two peas in a pod. He was the kid who drank his juice with rocks in it, constantly getting us into trouble while I bailed us out. Growing up, we were practically inseparable. Wherever we went, whatever we did, I wanted to be by his side.

His betrayal left a sour taste on my tongue and bitterness in my heart.

I stared up at him with wide eyes. My lips parted, unsure exactly what was going to come out before one of Peter's football buddies clasped him on the shoulder.

"Bro, you good?"

Peter blinked. As though a spell breaking at midnight, the moment fractured. Time sped up, reality crashing through like an uninvited guest. Within seconds, Peter struggled to untangle himself from my limbs. With shaky hands, I shoved him sideways off me.