Project Alaric: Book One ✔️

Chapter Ten

Alaric Benson

Axton was using my stomach as a pillow while he threw his keys in the air and caught them in his hand. I swore on everything holy that if they hit me in the face, I'd deck the shit out of him. I was in a sour mood since the night we went to the cemetery. It'd been two days since then, and we were now in Siler City, visiting the Devil's Tramping Ground. We were spending only tonight here, then heading toward Wilmington. I wanted to be excited about it, but Emery went back to closing himself off.

Emery was terrified to get too close to me and before I could ask him about it, he left me standing there to stew in the words he said. I didn't want him to be afraid to get close to me. I didn't have a magic wand to wave to make everything all better. I was lost in a pit of my own despair mixed with saltiness. Every time Emery closed himself off, I wanted to break through the walls he was hiding behind.

"We should buy Halloween costumes to wear on our little adventures," Axton said, drawing my attention from my thoughts to him. "We can wear them to the Devil's Tramping Ground."

Emery picked his head up from Apollo's shoulder where he'd been resting–watching TV. He was so comfortable around everyone except me. Hell, Emery never dared touch me. Lean on my shoulder or otherwise. What if I wanted him to be that comfortable with me? What if I wanted him to rest his head on my shoulder? How the fuck did I communicate that to him? It wasn't like I wanted to get his hopes up–I was trying to wait for some kind of fucking epiphany. And the longer I went without one, I risked losing him altogether.

"Oh, yeah, I want to do that." Emery smiled at Axton. Fuck Axton. Those smiles were supposed to be mine. He hasn't smiled at me since Duke Mansion. "Can we do that?"

Apollo yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Hell yeah, I'm down. It's almost Halloween. It's not like it would be weird. Not that I give a shit if it was."

I decided not to comment. I turned toward the TV and tucked my arm under my head. They can work out all the details. I wasn't thinking about Halloween costumes. I wasn't thinking about the tramping ground. I wasn't thinking about fucking Wilmington. I was thinking about the brown-eyed boy who closed himself off to me. Thinking about the sadness in his voice–thinking about him becoming Jason with how he refused to listen to what I had to say.

Axton jabbed his thumb into my side. "Alaric! Earth to Alaric! What the hell do you want to do?"

"I don't give a shit. Decide and I'll go."

"Spicy," Axton grumbled. "I thought having an attitude was my thing. Why the fuck are you stealing it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut the hell up with the dramatics and decide. We don't have all day."

"Okay, not poking that angry porcupine." Axton's aggravation was clear, but he stayed where he was. "Yeah, let's go find a costume shop. Sounds like fun."

Without looking away from the TV, they made plans to stick to a strict schedule. But another thing I noticed, was Emery's voice didn't drift through my ears while they spoke. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to find out why. I was fucking pissed off. I wouldn't throw myself at his feet and beg him to elaborate. I wouldn't beg for him to allow me the chance to explain the mess inside of my head. There would be none of that. He could take what he wanted. And I wanted to stand by that.

But why do I have to be silenced at the hands of his comfort level? What about mine? None of this was fair to me either. He wasn't the only one who mattered.