Woodlake
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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación lun, feb 12, 2018
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Ficción
Misterio
Reagan si è trasferita con il padre a Woodlake da qualche mese, quando decide di spendere un weekend con gli amici alla vecchia casa sul lago, famosa per le leggende a cui è legata, le quali la descrivono come l'oscura dimora nella quale alberga la morte. Il gruppetto composto da Reagan e sei dei suoi amici tuttavia non si lascia intimorire dalle voci che corrono riguardo ciò che successe parecchi anni prima e decide di andare ad investigare con il solo fine di scoprire la verità su quel famoso incidente avvenuto poco più di un decennio prima.
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"Levon." Todd answered, voice hard. "Todd." Levon responded just as coolly. There was a pause. "Are you busy?" "I just got back from class," Todd said. "Waiting for Betto to get out of his lab so we can go for supper." "Nice." Levon wanted to punch himself. Todd just hummed in affirmation. Another pause as Levon tried to find a way to dispel the tension in the call. "Are you good?" Todd asked when Levon failed to form a sentence, and Levon realized how out of character it was for him to call Todd. There a was a layer of concern just under Todd's indifferent tone, and the protectiveness that seemed ever present in Todd when they were younger and Todd was always saving Levon from his problems. Levon's anger seemed to melt away at that familiar sense of security. "I'm good," Levon spoke finally and a soft smile spread over his lips. "Are you good?" "I'm good," Todd said gruffly. "Are we good?" Levon asked and Todd scoffed. "What we. There is no we. We're not friends." "Wouldn't want you as a friend anyway," Levon snickered. "You're kind of an asshole." Or Todd and Levon, and their acceptance that they were never meant to be friends. (Disclaimer: there will be foul language, more fluff than plot, and BoyxBoy romance. Read at your own risk!)

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