Wolfsbane: Troyler AU

Laughing in the Dark (A Flashback)

Quick A/N: This chapter needs to be read in connection with the previous chapter or you WILL be confused! That said, this is the longest update I've ever done, so hope you guys enjoy it. Also, the chapter with Tyler and the new character will be for NEXT upload. It was super long, and needed to be split...soooo, next time! Vote, leave comments, and follow! See ya Tuesday!

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Zoe's POV

“But, Troye,” I whined, hands clasped together like I was praying, “I really want to see The Blob!” I batted my eyelashes at him, pursed my lips, and smiled the prettiest smile I could muster. Troye just shuffled from foot to foot nervously. He looked at my rapidly blinking eyes, cleared his throat, and looked away. He sighed.

“Fine, Zo. The Blob it is.”

I squeaked in excitement, did a little pelvis-thrust jig, and rushed away from Troye, headed toward the ticket booth. I loved this movie so much. I mean, living in Nowhere, USA where nothingnothingnothing happened on a regular basis, seeing a movie about a meteorite that crashes and unleashes a vicious, flesh-melting blob of jelly on the residents of a small town struck me as darkly amusing and... well, fun, to be honest. Sure, it wouldn't be fun for me to be eaten by a blob, but it certainly made the people in that small town excited. I'm quite certain they were as bored where they lived as I was in Highlandtown. In any case, every time The Blob came on the television, or it played at The High Mark, I was there for it, brimming top-full with excitement.

Once I got to the ticket booth, I glanced back at Troye, and saw that he was still where we were before I sped off to buy tickets. His head was tilted backwards and his eyes flickered across the brightly lit marquee, where it announced that tonight's features at The High Mark Cinema were American Werewolf in London, The Blob, and Ghostbusters. It was 80s movies night at the old theater, and while all of the movies showing were classics, and quite good, I lived for The Blob.

As I looked at Troye, for a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. He wasn't a fan of horror movies at all, and he had suffered through my favorite movie at least five times in the past, always squeezing his eyes shut whenever a close-up of the jelly-like alien killer swooping over and dissolving a person whole came on the screen. And that happened a lot in that movie. Even so, he was a great sport about it all, but because he had seen both The Blob and Ghostbusters several times, he had really wanted to check out American Werewolf in London.

“Miss, that'll be $10 for the two tickets. Miss?”

The ticket booth attendant tapped on the glass to get my attention, and I started a bit, so lost in my thoughts looking at Troye. I turned to her, smiled and mumbled my thanks as she exchanged my ten-dollar bill for the tickets.

Excited again, I turned to Troye, waved the tickets at him, and said loudly, “Popcorn and soda are your treat!”

As he walked over to me, I was caught off guard, as I usually am, by how beautiful he was. Like, beautiful. Usually, men are “handsome,” “nice-looking,” maybe even “hot,” but Troye was beautiful. With his cerulean eyes, rosebud mouth, smooth jawline, and his tall, lean figure, he had this air of delicate masculinity that drew the eye and trapped you for a moment. He approached me, walking with his usual slow, ambling grace, long legs wrapped in closely fitting jeans and the neck of his blue t-shirt slightly off center. The wind blew slightly, making his chestnut hair flutter in the breeze. When he stopped in front of me, he smiled. All teeth, all the time.

Oh, god, I thought irritatedly. Gag me with a freakin' spoon.