mafia · exy · enemies to lovers · sports · dark romance · omegaverse
Choose: Nathan or Julien. In the cell that smells of sweat and dread, Julien Moreau, the Frenchman with the numeral IV on his cheek, notices the redhead slipping through shadows. –Nathan, three a.m., where? –Shh. Quiet. Don’t wake the rooster. –Who? –The baguette, Ren. –Kid, what did you do? –Nathan’s blue eyes flick toward the corner. There – Ren’s Exy stick, snapped clean through. –How did you break what can’t be broken!? –Quiet. Go. I’ll hide it. If I die – it’ll be fun. –Fine. Morning brings the Captain’s shout: –NATHAN VESNINSKY!!! –What? –What about the stick!? –Third-number sarcasm, cold and sharp: –Something not to your liking? –Run, I’ll shatter your legs. Nathan runs, earns a rough slap to the skull. The King pursues him, stick i…