trickery [lashton]

one ♠︎ luke

"Excuse me, you can't be here," I heard as two men dressed in tuxedos tried to enter the living room. I looked up and saw one had curly dirty blonde hair and looked around nineteen or twenty. The boy right beside him had slightly curly dark brown and had a tan complexion and a very noticeable jawline.

"FBI agents Jackson and Underwood," the honey haired one said, his voice was not as deep as it should be, but it was cute, and he had a very noticeable Australian accent. They both pulled out badges and the man who approached them apologized, letting them in.

The one with the dark hair turned and caught my eye and squinted at me suspiciously. I looked down at the pile of candy wrappers on the table, following my innocent bystander act. The two boys talked to more people, and I listened to every conversation.

"Who found Mr. Houting?" Just from the boy's posture, I could tell he was a hunter. Shit. I needed to avoid him. The one next to him, his partner, seemed to be a hunter as well.

I'm fucked.

"That kid over there," Chief Inspector Greene said, pointing at me. I looked down and twisted my fingers together, avoiding their gazes. Innocent bystander, remember? "He won't talk, though. You're welcome to try."

Someone sat in the chair in front of me and I looked up shyly, seeing Ashton in front of me, smiling assuringly. I noticed that his eyes were a whiskey color, matching his hair almost perfectly. Gods, I could get drunk on those eyes. No, shut up. Hunter, remember?

"Hello, I'm agent Jackson." Liar, Liar. "What's your name?"

"L-Luke," I whispered and he stared at me, not hearing what I said. "M-My name is Luke."

"Hello, Luke. I'm Ashton. Can I ask you a few question about what happened?" Duh, I'm the one who did it.

"You won't believe me," I murmured, looking down at my lap. He placed a hand on my knee assuringly and I kind of liked it - no, I hated it. Fuck.

"Just tell me what happened exactly," he said in an assuring and coaxing voice and I almost swooned. Gods, Luke, keep it together.

"O-Okay. Well, I was home alone, because my mom's in L.A. for a business trip. I heard a lot of yelling and decided to go check it out. I rang the doorbell several times, but no one answered. It got really silent, so I walked in and-" I took a really shaky breath for emphasis, looking down at my lap again.

"It's okay, Luke," Ashton coaxed and I sighed.

"I-I saw Mr. Houting lying with his...his throat slit," I sniffled, tears filling my eyes. "And Mrs. Houting was standing there with a kitchen knife. Suddenly, she just disappeared. I-I know it makes no since, but I swear that's what I saw." Ashton stared at me, trying to comprehend what I said. Was it bad that his stare was kind of turning me on? Yes, Luke, he's mortal. The gods would be so disappointed. "You don't believe me," I whispered and Ashton shook his head.

"I do," he said, removing his hand from my knee. "You know Mrs. Houting is deceased, right, Luke?" I nodded and looked back down at my lap, twisting my fingers together.

"No one believes me," I whimpered, staring at my black Vans.

Suddenly, Ashton's partner Calum sat next to him and whispered something in his ear. I eavesdropped, because I can.

"No EMF, so no ghost," yeah, no shit genius. "No sulphur." You're looking for all the wrong things.

"Okay," Ashton murmured, before looking over at me. "Luke says that he saw Mrs. Houting with a kitchen knife, but she disappeared shortly after he got there."

"What was he doing there?" Calum asked suspiciously. He's been suspicious of me from the start, and he knew that I knew.

"He heard yelling and came over to check it out."

Calum leaned in and whispered, "Something about this is really sketchy."

"No shit."

"I'm gonna go find more stuff out. Don't lose the kid."

Excuse you, I am six thousand years old, I'm not a kid.

Calum left and Ashton looked back over at me.

"Why did you go check on Mr. Houting?"

"He's been kind of in the wrong mind since his wife killed herself. I heard the yelling and wanted to make sure he wasn't in any trouble."

"You're a good, kid, Luke, thank you for speaking with me," Ashton said, standing up and walking away to find Calum.

I sat, bored out of my mind as people no longer talked to me. An idea popped into my head and I smirked small to myself, remembering a news article I read about the Chief Inspector. He had fired at a man that supposedly "lunged" at him, but I was there. The man was standing, his knees on the ground and his hands above his head. I watched as the Chief Inspector shot at the innocent man, all because he was into people of the same sex. I didn't understand what was so bad about that. Love is love, isn't it?

I conjured up an image of the man he killed and set it to murder the Chief Inspector. He was getting what he deserved, I thought.

Several people pulled out guns and started firing at the man, but it wouldn't do anything - this creature wouldn't be stopped until it did what I created it to do.

"A-Ashton?" I asked, shaking in my seat. He ran over to me, a gun pointed to the ground. He shot several times at the creature, but it was too late. He was already digging into his victim. I stared at them, pretending to be in shock, quivering in my seat.

"Calum, get Luke into the car. I'll handle this." Don't be a hero. Please.

Calum pulled me up and forced me to the door. I stumbled and tripped, knocking over a vase. The glass cut deep into my hands and I cried out in immense pain.

"Shit. Hurry up and get in the car," Calum cursed, pushing me outside and sitting me in the backseat. He threw a shirt at me and demanded me to put pressure on my wounds.

I closed my eyes and leaned back. Stupid Ashton for being a hero, now I have to do something I might regret.
 
"Ashton's going to be okay, right?" I asked, watching as Calum sighed.
 
"I don't know. He's terrified of shooting innocent people, but he lacks decent judgement. I just hope he'll be able to do the right thing."

Dad, I hope you're proud of this one.

I turned the creature I made into a small little boy, no older than seven. He begged Ashton to not hurt him, even crying and sobbing. When Ashton's guard was let down, the boy lunged.

After I heard several gunshots, I made the boy disappear and watched as Ashton stumbled out of the door, three scratches running down his cheek. He crawled in next to me and yelled at Calum to drive.

Wait - what the fuck did I just do? I let a teensy crush on a guy get in the way of a good trick.

"You're hurt," I murmured to Ashton and he shook his head.

"It's just a scratch," he argued. I reached out and brush my fingers over them, feeling him wince.

"My mom's a nurse. I-I could patch you up at my house," I offered nervously. My mom wasn't really a nurse - she was a 15th century witch/whore.

"Okay," he murmured, pain in his whiskey eyes that I could more than likely drown in if I allowed myself to.