Head throbbing, Erwin blinked painfully.
"You didn't have to hit him so hard." a fuzzy but oddly familiar voice grumbled.
Erwin slowly opened his eyes.
Ed was peering down at him in concern. "He wouldn't have come willingly."
The owner of the voice was just out of eyesight. "Did you even try asking?"
"There were a couple girls there. They didn't smell fictional."
"Sure."
Ed huffed, "He's up."
Pushing himself up, Erwin surveyed his surroundings. He was in a hotel room decked out with a The Smiths poster and three overflowing suitcases. A violin stood proudly where the TV should've been.
"Need ice?" the voice from before belonged to a young man. He was taller than Erwin, darker skinned, and had lean muscles. Tattoos swirled around his neck and shoulders and faded as they traveled down his chest and arms. His eyes were a deep crimson and nose crooked, like it'd gotten punched several times. His dark hair was slung in a messy ponytail, and he kept fiddling with a ring on a chain around his neck. "You okay?"
All of those details were insignificant when Erwin saw that the man had matching slash marks across his eye. The same as Erwin did.
The exact same.
YOU ARE READING
Fiction Alliance
DiversosTwo days ago, Anya Pimenova received a mysterious invitation to attend a week long convention. At the convention, she saw her boyfriend, friends, enemies, and many others that she didn't know. Once, everyone was gathered, a girl wearing Doctor Who...
