A Reunion of Lips

XXIV

You may recall me mentioning at the beginning of this book that it was dark. This reminder is, of course, purely coincidental, but please proceed with caution anyways. Hypothetically, if things did get a bit dark, they would hypothetically lighten up again very soon (hehe...)

Love you all!!!  Take care of yourselves ❤️ 

Mitch could tell how stressed Scott was just from how tightly he was holding Mitch's hand.

"It's gonna be fine. Kevin will take care of everything. He'll call you later and he'll have them both safely in custody."

Scott's thumb was rubbing over the back of Mitch's hand in what Mitch figured was a subconscious effort to calm him down. Mitch was fine, though. Sure, he was on edge just like everyone else, but he wasn't anywhere near as anxious as Scott.

Scott was the one who'd spent all week trying to make every single detail of their plan to arrest his parents perfect—while still going through the list of information from the Alluvian loyalists (and the info from other loyalists who'd started sending their own information) and running the country like normal. Mitch had been able to convince Scott to let other people take over some of his normal job, like Esther cancelling meetings and Ryan and Ben taking care of the reporters doing their best to find time to interview him, but they could only do so much. Scott was sleeping a bit better than he had been a few days ago, but Mitch was sure that it was only because he was working himself to the point of exhaustion, not because he'd managed to make actual progress.

Now Mitch was just trying to get Scott to relax while the entire palace—well, the people who knew what was happening today—were on the edge of their seats waiting for news.

"Something's gonna go wrong. Why are they even going to Alluvia in the first place? What if they don't show up? What if they do but they don't get them—"

"Scott, you literally could not have had better people going. You know that nobody on that team will let you down. They want everything taken care of, this all to be over, just as much as you do."

"I know. I just have this really bad feeling. Like I should have asked one of them to stay back. I should've asked Matt—"

Mitch turned around and planted himself right in Scott's path, stopping them right next to the tomatoes Avi spent so much time pruning and mothering.

"You can bet on your own ass that you could've asked any one of them to stay and, short of an executive order from you, they would have ignored you and gone anyways."

"But Ryan—maybe if—"

"Nope."

"If I got Kirstie to ask Ben—"

"Nope."

"Kevin would listen to Leigh—"

"Leigh would just go along."

Scott frowned down at their joined hands. "Well, maybe if you had asked them to stay, they would've listened."

Mitch sighed. "Scott, are you really still upset about that?"

"No."

Mitch raised an eyebrow at the short answer. Scott seemed to realize his mistake and he cringed before glancing up at Mitch's face.

"I'm not. Everyone just—likes you more than me..."

Mitch glared at him and stepped in closer to Scott. "You're kidding, right? Because that was hilarious. Like, the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say. And you've said that blue and yellow make purple."

Scott groaned. "Are you ever gonna let that go?"

"Never." Mitch pulled his hands out of Scott's and gently cupped his face. "They didn't agree with me because they like me more, they were just trying to look out for you."

"And obviously I don't blame them for liking you more, because why shouldn't they? You're gorgeous and creative and pretty and so smart and sassy and damn handsome and sneaky and—"

"Scott." Mitch slid his hands over Scott's mouth. "You're doing that thing where you ignore me because you know I'm right again."

Mitch could feel the puff of air under his hands, but pulled back sharply when he felt a tongue lick at his palm. "Ew, Scott that's gross!"

Scott laughed and set his hands on Mitch's waist. "So making out is okay, but me licking your hand is too much?"

Mitch nodded. "Absolutely. Nice try, changing the subject. I'm not letting this go. You know you have your own list of amazing qualities, right? Because you do. You're literally the smartest person I know. You're so compassionate. You somehow find it in you to care about everyone, so much, all the time—and it's amazing."

Mitch was having a great time watching Scott's shy smile grow. "When you start talking, everyone stops and listens. Not because you're the king, not just out of respect, but because they want to hear what you're saying. You have such a way with words—especially when you actually plan them," Mitch giggled at Scott's bashful eye roll.

"Everyone is drawn to you." There was a distant popping noise, and Mitch felt a pebble hit his right arm. He glanced behind him for Wyatt to see what he was up to. "Even that damn cat loves—"

He was cut off sharply by Scott's hand grabbing his wrist and dragging him at nearly a run over to the little grove of trees farther down the path.

"What are—"

Scott pressed him up against one of the trees and planted himself in front of Mitch. His first thought was ooh, make out time, but that train of thought ended abruptly when he saw Scott's face.

That was the something's wrong face.

The last time he'd seen that face, Scott had announced that there was a secret rebellion.

Uh oh.

Scott was pulling a phone out of his pocket and talking into it rapidly, but Mitch couldn't quite make out the words. Something about, sounded distant, check the rooftop. Scott was trying to peer past the trees without moving from in front of Mitch, which would be funny if Mitch didn't feel kinda weird.

He tried to lift his arm to grab Scott and ask what was going on, but his arm didn't move how he wanted it to. It felt kind of numb—no, not numb, definitely not numb—ow, burning ow ow Scott make it stop Scott—

Mitch felt himself lose balance distantly and pitch forwards toward the ground. He saw Scott look back at him and honestly, he was distracted from the burning in his shoulder by the utter panic and terror in Scott's eyes as he dropped to his knees next to Mitch.

Scott was saying something—was he talking to the phone or Mitch?

"—no, no—you're fucking kidding me, Cora—fuck the shooter I don't care get the medical staff fucking hurry, don't—"

There were hands on his upper arm—ow Scott get your hands off that hurts—and Scott was saying something else, probably to him now—

"—be fine, everything will be fine, just keep your eyes—"

Scott has nice eyes. They're pretty. Blue. They match the sky in between the leaves above them. Pretty. Why are they getting darker? Maybe that's just Mitch.

Pretty eyes—