𝐓𝗼𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐞 ✔︎

• Fʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴ' ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀsᴛᴀᴛᴇ •

| ғʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴ' ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀsᴛᴀᴛᴇ |
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He opened the door of the building, walking in with his head held high, despite the nerve wracking nausea he feels bubbling in his stomach. But he didn't acknowledge it, it was a regular occurrence every time he walked into this building, the one that was swarming with thief's, criminals and killers. His people, technically. That thought made him feel sick, but there was no denying it.

He sighed as he walked up to his father, getting some stupid 'job' that was really such a pointless waste of a day, but he couldn't complain. He could never complain about anything to the devil behind the desk that he called his dad.

"And take Blake with you this time, Elias and indigo are already busy" he let out a huff at that, as if the day couldn't get any worse. Blake, his former friend who now saw him as nothing more than a monster. Why? Because he decided to talk to some blondie at his therapy group.

He froze then, momentarily as a terrifying thought passed through him. Therapy, how had he not remembered? Blake has seen him, he knew. He knew how messed up he was, how pathetic and weak he had become. It was bad enough when he saw him with George, smiling and blushing like a baboon. But this, no this was worse.

"He's waiting for you in his car" his father waved him off like he were a fly, and he didn't bother with any formalities as he turned around and left, feet now coming down significantly harder than before, and he didn't have to look in a mirror to know his face was as cold as stone.

Soon enough, perhaps too soon, he found himself opening Blake's car door, which was parked diagonally outside the backdoor.

"Reece"

"Blake" neither bothered to even glance at each other as they exchanged cold, disinterested greetings.

Blake had already started the car before he had got the door fully closed, speeding down the road quickly with a concentrated face.

He subconsciously reached for the seatbelt, going to pull it over himself before he stops, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He never wears a seatbelt, ever. So why was he reaching for it now? His mind wandered back to George's stern expression, the disapproval evident on his face at the fact that Reece wouldn't put on a seatbelt. Like it was a crime...

He caught Blake's gaze and let go of the seatbelt quickly, face a tiny tint of red, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he was wary of Blake's concentrated gaze.

"Blake watch the road!" He snickers as Reece scolds him, drifting his gaze slowly back to the road while he shakes his head.

"He's got you whipped, Reece."

"What? Who?"

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say-

"George of course, who else could make the famous, reckless Reece Bibby reach for a seatbelt" he scowled at Blake as he laughed, he was NOT whipped, of course he wasn't.

He wasn't even thinking of George when he went to put the seatbelt on, it was just a pure coincidence that it happened a few days after George had previously rebuked him for not doing the exact same safety procedure.A very well timed coincidence, thats all.

"I am not. I don't listen to anyone, George is no exception." Blake only grin harder, stretching from ear to ear, a pure devilish smirk plastered on his face, a cold contrast to the look he wore the last time he had seen him.

"Oh yeah?" He nodded as Blake raised his eyebrow, looking eight at him, challenging him to prove him any different. It would be impossible, he was not 'whipped' on George Smith.