Unreliable

9 - a kiss to the mouth and your lips are sealed

Trigger/Content Warning: Homophobia, Stalking

Charles' POV

"Fucking hell, Max... Where did you learn to kiss this good?" I moan in pleasure as I back Max away from my grip. I'm pinned to the wall with Max's cute "AF" eyes looking at me.

"It's none of your fucking business, Charles. Like it's not any of your business to smell this well." He whimpers before pushing me back in, restarting the whole making out scene.

Lips in, lips out, tongue in, tongue out, this whole damn thing lasted for longer than 30 minutes. Don't worry, the walls of this hotel are crazy thick so nobody will hear us moaning and whimpering and grunting.

I'm just wondering how and where this damn kid learnt how to kiss so damn well. It definitely wasn't with his pillow, that's for sure.

By the way, Courtney doesn't know anything and she also doesn't suspect a thing, so I'm good.

Third Person POV

Laying on his bed, absolutely tired after the long make out session with Max, Charles pulls out his phone from the bedside table and unlocks it.

Max however, is sleeping like a baby and Charles likes the fact that Max doesn't snore whatsoever. Charles always smirks a little bit every time he looks at Max.

Charles, almost paralized looking at his notifications which keep flooding in repeatedly, sighs and turns to the other side, making his back be turned to Max.

As Charles struggles to read every single notification that is coming in, he notices one that is extremely peculiar. The notification? A message request. From Unknown.

Charles' POV

"What the fuck?" I whisper looking at the weird notification that stood out against the others. "A message request... Huh?" I continue whispering to myself, trying not to wake up the sleeping baby.

As I click on the notification, I'm greeted by the iMessage interface, the message requests filled with random fans, scam telemarketers, and the doubtful 'Unknown'.

Unknown
Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc. I hope this message finds you unwell. I've absolutely fucking hated you these past few months and now, oh now, I have absolutely no god damn doubt that I fucking despise you. You stole my girlfriend, and when I outted you, you stole my fucking fame! So, if I were you, I'd watch my motherfucking back.
Go to hell faggot,
you already know who I am.

"Wyatt."

Third Person POV

Charles jumps out of his bed, not caring if Max wakes up. He puts on some pants, a random Ferrari hoodie and his Ferrari sneakers. He puts his phone in his pocket, along with his house and car keys.

The door slams as Charles leaves the apartment, running down the stairs to Courtney's apartment. Suddenly, as he reaches Courtney's floor, he feels something on the back of his head.

"Behind you, puta."

Charles' POV

"Behind you, puta." I hear a guy say behind me, as I feel something in the back of my head. The hole on the pistol creates a small vacuum between my hair and my head.