Mate Massacres

Chapter 12

Holding out his hand was a bold move, but Krey needed Pip, especially when grief clutched him tightly. Krey wasn't thinking correctly. Even if he were, Pip would still be the main attraction among his thoughts.

Krey's breath hitched when Pip stretched out a hand to touch him too. Krey had observed Pip over the past few days. His mate was shy, timid, and clumsy. He stuttered on his words, tripped on air, and lived in his head more than the real world. He doubted that Pip would be confident enough for a handshake, yet here he was, centimetres away from touching him.

He feels it too. He might not know what the feeling is yet, but he knows there's something there, Krey thought, zoning in on their fingers, so close, the tips tingled.

Pip moved closer and closer and-

Krey's spine fizzed when their fingers smoothed over one another. His heart stopped. His lungs refused to inhale. The air no longer moved around them. The world darkened, and their fingers were in focus like a spotlight above shined only on them.

Pip's fingers brushed over Krey's hand and to his palm. Krey curled his fingers around his mate's soft skin. Pip's hand looked tiny compared to Krey's, and fragile, and unscathed. Krey's skin was tough and hot and covered in small scars.

Pip's eyes lingered over his bruised knuckles as his grip on Krey tightened.

The handshake lasted only a few seconds, but to Krey, it lasted forever.

Even after Pip let go, Krey's palm tingled. He looked at his hand, expecting Pip's small fingers to have made an imprint on his skin. His hand cooled immediately, and Krey fought with himself not to lean across the table and take Pip's hand back.

While they sat in the library, Krey fought a mental battle to stay seated. The anger that streamed from his body only moments ago, was now calm. What he did to Jordan was like a distant dream. Going to the library was the right decision. As soon as his eyes met Pip's, Krey's world filled with colour again. Blue eyes were the only things he wanted to see.

He perched on the armchair opposite his mate who sat crossed-legged on the couch, propping notebooks on his lap. Pip twirled a pen around his fingers and softly chewed on his bottom lip. Krey's heart burst every time he saw his deep dimples.

Krey sat with his back against the cushions, an elbow on each armrest and his fingers connected. He stared at Pip so intensely, Francis kept texting him to tell him to stop otherwise he'd freak the human out.

Krey eventually blocked her number.

Francis got the gist and stopped worrying, leaving her Alpha to his fate of scaring the human away before anything happened between them. Though Pip was so into his studies, he didn't notice Krey's desire-filled eyes. Pip glanced at him occasionally, and every time he did, Krey was already looking,

"So, Pip," Francis said, bored of pretending to look at rocks and volcanoes on Pip's laptop. "Have you always lived in this town?"

Krey crossed his arms, thankful for Francis being with them. Krey was excellent at creating awkward situations. He didn't know how to hold a conversation unless he was yelling at someone.

"Yes," Pip said with a little smile. "I was born in the hospital five miles from here."

"What year?"

"Two thousand and two."

"And that makes you... eighteen." Francis seemed surprised by that.

"I look younger, I know."

Krey wasn't sure if Pip spoke quietly because they were in a library, or of Pip was naturally quiet. Krey liked the sound of his voice; the softness to it soothed him.