A Killer's Lover

11

Mitch tapped his finger steadily against the window as they drove in silence. It was strange to be in a car without music; Scott didn't like it while he drove, apparently.

The famous playlist that everybody he knew used to hate; the very same one that he had added onto for the majority of his life. It resided on the oldest brick iPod that he could remember. Definitely "the modern record player of our time," as his sister described it to him once.

If only he knew where it was.

"Are you hungry?" Scott asked after a few minutes of quiet. If he hadn't of pulled Mitch out of his thoughts, he would have forgotten that there was even a second person in the car. He looked over at him for a few seconds, before processing the question completely.

"O-oh...oh! A little, I guess. Are you?"

Scott raised an eyebrow as he slowed down for a stop sign -which, might I add, is something that he would normally never do but thought it would be wise considering their situation- in the road. "I could eat. But I don't like all that...edgy food you upper class people eat."

Mitch put a dainty hand over his heart. "Did you just say...'edgy'?"

"I did." No shame.

"...Well, Hoying. Acaii bowls and Chipotle are not edgy. You don't have the right terminology to use that word."

Scott almost snorted. "What the actual hell is an 'Acaii bowl'?"

"Turn here. We're making a trip to Whole Foods."

-

"So I still don't get it," Scott fussed as he followed Mitch out of the store. "You'd pay fifteen bucks for a bowl of some liquified fruit and some granola?"

"Sure," Mitch shrugged, pulling the hood over his face more. The blond man had given it to him to wear so he couldn't be spotted or seen somehow. Of course, the hoodie was multiple sizes too big, and the sleeves came up over his fingertips by more than a few inches. But it smelled nice, and it was actually kind of comforting to know that Scott cared.

"That's ridiculous, and I preach my wine speech again."

"I mean yes, you can go to some cheaper store and buy a lousy cup of fruit. But these just have that little touch; that little something that makes them special." Mitch opened the car door, hoisting himself up into the passenger seat.

"If it sucks, I'm eating one of your chicken arms," Scott said, only half-kidding.

The smaller boy pulled out the two bowls one by one, placing on his own lap before doing the same for Scott. He handed him a utensil -a plastic spork- before throwing the bag back into the seat behind him.

"You could be a bit more respectful to my car," Scott mumbled.

"So you want to make sure you get a good bite in on your first try."

Mitch showed him how to do this, before getting one for himself.

"Are you ready to be wowed?"

"Not really."

"That's the spirit."

Scott had to scrunch up his face when he ate it so he wouldn't curse out loud.

"Jesus, this is real life ectoplasm slop."

"No, it's good." Mitch took Scott's spork in his hand to set him up another bite. "Try it again."

"Uh, no? I'll take a raincheck."

"Please?" Mitch asked innocently.

He didn't really know what made Scott agree, other than the fact that he was a good enough actor to make it happen.

Scott looked at him after he took the second bite. "Why was that one better? Is there poison in this?"

"If I knew that there was poison in it, do you think that I'd be eating the exact same thing as you?"

"I don't know...maybe? I wouldn't put it past you," Scott shrugged, picking up the bowl to scoop more into his mouth.

"It's not like we have a death pact or anything, Hoying."

"Don't call me that. Call me Scott, or anything other than that, please."

"Why? Does it trigger something in you?" Mitch asked.

"Does it what?"

"Nothing," the bald boy huffed. "Do you link it with something personal?"

"...You could say that."

A few beats of silence was followed by a pout from Mitch.

"I just realized that I have stayed at your home, rode in your car, been a subject of you spending money...and I barely even know anything about you."

"You know that I'm poor, sour, and boring."

"I'm serious, Scott. Can I know a little more?" Mitch stirred his food with his spork, suddenly losing the desire to eat.

Scott sighed loudly. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know...anything."

"If I tell you some things about me, you have to tell me about you. Deal, Mr. Edgy?"

Mitch cringed at the title. "Only if you never say that word again."

-

A/N: Double update will be up in a few seconds.

Thank you again for 200 followers, lol.