[LEO]
It was a Sunday, and Sundays were my off days.
I woke up to find Ravi sitting on the edge of the bed, legs folded, arms placed in his lap, leaning forward.
I sat up cautiously. "Yes?"
"Are you going to work today?"
"No?"
Ravi smiled suddenly, a rakish, boyish grin. "Can we hang, then?"
"Eh - sure. What d'you wanna do?"
"You."
I blinked. "Pardon?"
Ravi grinned. "Nothing. I meant games. Let's play some games."
* * *
Ravi uttered another groan of exasperation.
I poked my head out from the kitchen door.
"What's up?"
"Your games are all so boring," Ravi complained.
I stared at the board games scattered around him.
"There's twister."
Ravi stared at me. "That game's interesting only when you're not wearing clothes. I wouldn't mind, but I doubt you're up for that sort of commitment."
I flushed. "Well, have you looked at the games for the PlayStation instead?"
Ravi frowned. "How d'you use that?"
I sighed and stepped out of the kitchen.
"Let me show you."
Fifteen minutes later, we both stood awkwardly in front of the loading screen.
"What are we supposed to do, again?" Ravi asked for the hundredth time.
"You follow the dance moves shown on the screen," I said simply.
"Oh."
The game shifted to the start menu, and I pressed PLAY.
PLAYER ONE DETECTED. SECOND PLAYER, PLEASE MOVE INTO THE FIELD-OF-PLAY TO JOIN.
"Ravi, come on -"
"I'm trying, it won't sense me -"
"Wave your arms -"
Ravi raised his arms above his head and started waving them around.
SINGLE-PLAYER MODE ACTIVATED. GET READY.
"I HATE YOU!" Ravi screamed and aimed a kick at the PlayStation console.
"Maybe we could try something else."
* * *
"That's not a word, Ravi."
"Why not?"
"I don't think there's anything in the Oxford Dictionary that's spelt S-Q-W-I-R-T."
"It's pronounced squirt, that has to count for something!"
Friendly reminder: never play Scrabble with an agitated Ravi.
Ravi was reading the instructions off from the back of the box, eyebrows furrowed in the centre of his forehead.
He was dressed simply that day - a black V-neck shirt and a pair of floral, Hawaiian-looking boxer briefs.
That was it, basically.
He wasn't wearing any pants, for some unknown reason.
Not that I minded.
His legs were smooth and toned, like the rest of his body, and they were proportionate. He looked like a statue wrought out of ivory, and it was hard to believe that someone like him was real.
Kaitlyn dumping me should've left an impact, but it didn't.
I hadn't spared a thought on her for months, and I was perfectly happy with the way things were at the moment.
I didn't want anything to change.
Looking at Ravi now, I realized how vulnerable he looked.
His irises, silver like the core of the moon, seemed to glint underneath thick lashes that cast crescent-shaped shadows on his cheekbones when he closed his eyes.
He looked so fragile, in that oversized V-neck that seemed like it'd seen better days, and overly-bright boxers that seemed to contrast so well with his pale skin and platinum hair.
"What the fuck," he muttered, squinting at the letters he'd gotten from the Scrabble bag.
He leaned forward to study the pieces, and a lock of hair fell across his face, covering his forehead.
Seemingly out of its own accord, my hand drifted over and gently tucked the lock back into place, letting my fingers linger on the rise of his cheekbones.
Ravi didn't move, but I noticed that his eyes were studying me.
He had an intense gaze, something that felt like it was made to strip everything down to your bare soul.
It was as if he saw past all the pretense and all the sugarcoating and knew who I really was.
I realized I was blushing, but for some reason, I couldn't stop admiring his perfectly flawless face.
What I hadn't realized was that I was unconsciously asking him for permission - and when he closed his eyes, I knew I had it.
In a state of dazed awe, I trailed my fingers over the curve of his cheekbone down to the hard edge of his jaw. I traced the shadows his eyelashes made on his cheeks, ran my fingers through hair as soft as silk.
Ravi hardly moved - he became a statue in place, letting me memorize every single curve and angle.
My fingers were trembling - I was so afraid of making the wrong move.
My fingers brushed over his lips, and I felt his cold breath on the tips.
He's so perfect.
But you could never have him, a snide voice taunted in my head.
I felt Ravi capture my wrist with his hand, felt him stop my fingers from moving.
"Stop, please," he said, voice shaking.
I watched as the pale hand he held my wrist with shimmered, like sunlight glinting off the surface of ripples in the water, and I saw the dark, black lines twist around the back of his hand, winding around his wrist and fingers.
"Why does that keep happening?" I asked, reaching to trace the tattoo with my other hand.
Ravi jerked away suddenly, as if my touch scalded him.
"Don't," he repeated, his voice hoarse.
The trails went up his arm, appearing like smoke, staining his skin with the darkest of hues.
"Leo, look -"
The doorbell rang, loud and clear.
I turned my head slowly towards the door.
Ravi frowned. "Who's that?"
I got up and made my way to open the door.
"Leo? Leo, are you inside? Please, could I come in?"
I felt Ravi's eyes on my back. I could feel the heat from his gaze.
I knew he was silently challenging me, daring me.
I knew he didn't like Kaitlyn, or when I spent time with her.
But for just one brief moment, I wanted Ravi to feel pain, too.
"Leo, please, I need to talk to you, it's urgent -"
I opened the door and let her in.
YOU ARE READING
No Angels
Fanfiction"Would you destroy something perfect in order to make it beautiful?" Leo was never the boy you'd approach. Always the one who'd choose books and coffee over movies, and the library over the mall. Leo had always dreamed of leading a quiet and peacef...