Chapter 194
Chapter 194
"Blue, my man, look how sharp you're looking!" Dane walked around the car and hugged Blue, smiling happily at him.
"Hey, Blue. You do look better than the last time," Damon said through the driver's window.
Blue smiled. "Thanks, guys, and thanks for coming to pick us up," he said, glancing at Black beside him.
Dane glanced at Damon, then risked a glance at Maren who was looking like he was obeying the instruction of not speaking to Blue, but Dane could see the way his jaws tightened when Blue said "us".
He could feel another kind of trouble stirring with the presence of whoever the beautiful, long-haired man was to Blue.
"Who is he, Blue?" Damon asked, eyeing the man beside Blue suspiciously.
"You know Vernon hates it when we bring strangers to the mansion," Dane spoke rigidly.
Blue smiled, looking at Black and placing his hand on his bicep, "You guys don't have to worry, he's my friend. Black Swan –"
"Real name, Blue," Dane frowned.
Blue chuckled, "You tell them," he nudged Black.
Black nodded and extended his hand to Dane like the gentleman he was, "My name is Black Swan from the elite Swan family in Switzerland. I came by to visit my good friend for a few months." He introduced himself, his hand patiently waiting for Dane to shake it.
Dane's frown deepened, "Black Swan? Why did they call you Black when they knew it would sound weird with your last name?" He asked, shaking Black's hand reluctantly.
Black chuckled, "I love your humour already. Where do I drop the bags?" He gestured to his and Blue's bags.
"In the trunk, Black," Dane pointed to the trunk where Maren was currently leaning on.
Black nodded and headed behind the car.
He thought the strange guy leaning on the trunk would automatically excuse him so he dropped the bags in, but the guy didn't move, he just stood there with his shades, staring ahead.
"Excuse me, I need to place the bags in the trunk," Black politely asked.
Maeen remained standing like a statue, staring at the space before him.
Black cleared his throat, "May I drop the bags in the trunk?" He questioned again, a little louder this time just in case the guy had trouble hearing.
"Maren, let's move!" Dane called, walking around to enter through the other front door.
From Maren's side eye, he could see Blue pulling the back door open. It was time to move.
He leaned out of the car, staring coldly at Black through his shades. He knew the man couldn't see his eyes, but he made sure he felt his hateful gaze.
He didn't trust Black because he knew exactly what he intended toward Blue, but he'd rather die than watch him achieve it.
He finally turned and walked to the other side of the car.
Black blinked slowly, trying to understand what had just happened. He didn't need to be told before he realised that the guy in shades didn't like him which was weird because everyone normally liked him.
Maren got in the car, waiting for Blue to get in and sit beside him. He thought he finally got to be close to Blue, maybe, even touch him.
But his dreams were shattered when he saw Blue stepping aside to let Black in first before he finally entered the car.
If he hated Black before, he despised him now.
"It's nice to have you back, Blue," Damon said before driving the car away, starting their four-hour-long journey.
Blue was quiet, but his head wasn't.
He might have tried to act cool, to act like the sudden appearance of the guy in shades didn't affect him. But the truth was, it did, he was heaving affected that it angered him. Even now, sitting far away from Maren, his traitorous body could still feel the heat of Maren's closeness; he could sense the stolen glance each time Maren glanced his way.
It annoyed him.
If Maren thought that playing the cool, handsome guy was going to make some romance brew from the pit of hell and magically draw them back together again, then he was more idiotic than Blue believed.
The bond was broken, there was nothing between them anymore, and Blue would never allow himself to feel anything for such a selfish and heartless man again.
What his body was experiencing was just like muscle memory, responding to things it thought were still normal.
He was never allowing his body to respond to Maren because the bond was broken... right?
So why was he feeling like a loser?
"Balck and Blue..." Dane suddenly murmured, glancing at Black through the front mirror.
"Cool names, yeah?" Black asked, smiling.
Maren hated Black's dimpled smile, it threatened to blind his eyes even with the shades on.
"Actually, that's why we became friends in high school, our names kind of matched and people thought we were cool," Blue spoke up, pushing away useless thoughts from his head.
"And our parents got to be the best of friends when they realised they were all crazy about colours," Black chuckled, placing his hand on Blue's knee as he smirked at his friend.
Maren sat up, his eyes glaring at the hand Black placed on Blue's knee.
Maren felt a scorching, proprietary rage bubble up in his chest. The silence he had promised Blue was becoming a suffocating cage, and Black's hand resting casually on Blue's knee felt like an invasion. He wanted to rip the shades off his own face and burn the man with his silver gaze.
'Black and Blue? Parents crazy about colors?' It sounded like a manufactured history designed to torture him.
He clenched his fist on his thigh, the sheer force of his suppressed fury making the muscles in his jaw twitch beneath the dark lenses. The only reason he hadn't reacted violently to Black's presence was the devastating look on Blue's face when Maren had knelt in the sand. He would not, under any circumstances, risk reigniting that pure, raw hatred.
Blue, meanwhile, felt the shift in the air pressure beside him. He could almost smell the Prince's jealousy radiating off him like heat from a furnace. He knew Maren was seething, and the knowledge—the purely visceral response to another man's touch—was unsettling. It was exactly the "muscle memory" he had tried to dismiss, but it felt dangerously close to something more profound.
'Why was he jealous? Why am I feeling his rage?!' Blue panicked.
He needed an explanation just from Neireda the moment he arrived at the glass mansion.
He glanced at Black, who was oblivious to the tension, still chuckling softly about their parents. Blue leaned into the moment, deliberately using Black as a human shield and a distraction.
"Black is coming to help me hang and organize my new art collection," Blue explained to the front seat, his voice clear and casual. "He's doing a residency at the Swiss consulate, but he took a break to help me move my work."
"That sounds... helpful," Damon commented dryly, catching Dane's warning glare in the rearview mirror.
"He's the best," Blue affirmed, bumping Black's shoulder lightly. "He's actually a brilliant artist himself. You should see his work, Dane," Blue almost threw Maren's name into the conversation like a tiny, explosive dart. "It's very fluid, very open."
Dane, hearing his name, managed to grunt—a low dound of agreement, which only made Black turn around, a look of polite curiosity on his face.
"Oh, you paint as well?" Black asked, his tone pleasant, "What medium do you prefer?"
"Oh, I don't. I think, Maren does." Dane saud, pushing Maren into the conversation
Maren's mind went blank. He didn't paint. He commanded armies and oceans. He was royalty. He was supposed to feel superior to this frivolous human, but he was trapped, speechless, and dressed like an urban menace.
"He prefers silence," Blue supplied quickly, leaning forward to address Black. "Don't worry, Black. He's not much for conversation."
Black nodded understandingly. "Ah, the strong, silent type. We have a few of those in the Swiss Alps. Always brooding over their cheese. Nothing a strong espresso and a critique won't fix."
Maren felt the insult land, and his jaw locked so tight he thought his teeth might crack.
___
Author: "In-between Lines: Players Or Lovers" has been launched on the app. See you over there.