they can have my legacy - fedex (the legacies series 3)

7

of course, mr. forkle wanted details when dex tried to cancel his & fitz's upcoming widgetmoor appointment. & of course, dex wasn't about to give them to him. & of course, he was a horrible liar & didn't dare to attempt what would undoubtedly become a botched, questionable exercise in deceit.

so of course, he ended up having to go back to widgetmoor the following week & face off fitz.

but as it turned out, there would be no use of the truth ring that week. instead, tinker would be talking to each of the elves privately, asking them their experiences with the ring &, in the case of dex, his advice on improving it. dex wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

on second thought, he was. it was definitely a blessing.

the only time they ended up having interacted was the beginning, when they both arrived at the same time. fitz was dressed in only black, white, & various shades of grey. the moment the observation came to him dex knew why: fitz was trying to prove himself, to disassociate himself from biana, & what better way to do that than practically boycott every color of the rainbow?

& while the strong, rational part of dex was horrified & disgusted, wondering how fitz could do such a thing, there was still a little part of him. a part he was embarrassed to admit to himself. a part that didn't see fitz as what he was (a toxic, manipulative dickwad) but as something much simpler.

a hot guy.

dex turned around, & refused to meet fitz's eyes. which worked, because fitz appeared to be refusing to acknowledge dex's existence as well.

he was already gone when dex emerged from his meeting with tinker.

it was cold when he leaped home. it was always cold in rimeshire, but this was a kind of cold he had been feeling more often: an abrupt, invasive chill. he wasn't sure if juline was creating it or if it was just his feelings acting so persuasively that they convinced him they had been externalized & magnified around him. either way, it was increasingly unpleasant.

his bright room felt suffocating: lively as ever, its vibrant hues had turned to grey dust in his mind. although he could hear the triplets screeching & shoving & generally causing havoc, nothing really mattered. it was all an afterthought for dex, trapped in his own mind.

stop overreacting, dex. he's just a boy.

dex looked around, startled, before he realized that it was just his own mind, taunting him. letting out a long sigh, he sat down at his swivveling desk chair & began searching through his box of gadgets, trying to find something to focus on.

that's when he saw the homemade spyball.

memories came flooding back to him. he'd made it a few months ago, intending to give it to linh as a present. he'd never been particularly close with her, but he'd seen how upset she was when tam joined the neverseen, & wanted to do what he could to help. it was intended to work even in nonreceptive areas, & it did; now that he thought of it, he should probably have shown it to mr. forkle.

he never ended up giving it to linh because of how unbearably broken tam looked in the small scene he saw. he didn't want to worry her even further. instead, he'd thrown it into the 'work-in-progress' box & forgotten about it.

but now he had it in front of him. & the temptation was almost too much to resist.

show me...

fitz vacker, his mind screamed. fitz vacker, fitz vacker, fitz vacker.

ah... biana vacker.

she was alone in her room, he saw. there looked to be a glimmer of tears in her eyes, but she didn't succumb to them. instead, she stalked to the window & pulled the shades wide open, eyes darting about, searching for enemies.

no one was there. biana sank onto her bed. dex hadn't programmed volume onto the spyball, but he could imagine her sigh, fatigued & small.

she pulled out her imparter & spoke. dex couldn't hear anything, but he assumed she'd said linh song from the way her mouth folded easily around the name, the way she relaxed when, presumably, linh showed up on the other side of the call.

he turned off the spyball. this was a complete invasion of privacy. he should just... throw it out. forget about it.

but.

show me fitz vacker.

that familiar, striking figure. the sharp features, the brown hair, the teal eyes.

& that familiar, memory-filled figure. the soft features, the blonde hair, the gold-flecked eyes.

& they were making out. again. of fucking course.

with a groan, dex threw the spyball into the corner of the room, not caring if it shattered. he stared at the ceiling until it felt as though his retinas had gone numb. he ignored his mom's calls for dinner. he tried to forget.

& then he pulled out the spyball again, & of course it hadn't broken, & of course it still showed fitz. & he watched him, sitting alone, sophie having presumably gone home. he watched him frown tiredly, put his head in his hands.

& then he watched fitz cry.

he never ended up going downstairs for dinner.

a/n: istg this has been going on for too long. i'm sorry for the annoying melodrama redemption un-redemption shit. but . . . yOu knOw. that's life, i guess.

also, it's my birthday! when i'm posting this at least. yayyyyy.

don't forget to vote & comment, & recommend this book to a friend or forty-seven! i don't know when i'll be able to get the next chapter out, because of huge life events, plans, etc., so uh just hang in there aight? have a great day xx