When you were not running for your life from ruthless Yunitides through Zavlon Academia's woods, they actually had a 'not bad' appeal to it. The aesthetic green nature of the environment was easy to get engrossed in. Especially when the person walking some steps ahead of you could be easily mistaken for an imaginary friend. You know, the kind you could 'see' but who couldn't—in this case, wouldn't—speak to you.

   The sounds of intermittent bird chirps and the gentle evening breeze harmonised with Dorian and I's footsteps crackling against dry leaves and twigs. The petals of the wild flowers that sprouted not too far from the earth beneath had closed up for the day. Various shades of green of the tall trees all around us were beautiful contrasts with the darkening blue sky. All was peaceful.

"You lied."

   Until that accusation from Dorian.

"Didn't you?" I huffed.

   I was hoping we could ignore the lies we each told about where we were at the Virtual Reality Dance since I wasn't giving him my real reason anytime soon. Now that he was coming for me though, what was I supposed to do?

   At the risk of sounding childish, he started it.

"You should've been affected," Dorian continued as though he hadn't heard my question. "Everyone else at the dance was and just like them, you had your Virtuo glasses on your head."

"So did you, Dorian." I said, quickening my pace to catch up with him. For some reason, him staring straight ahead when I faced him with a glare didn't faze or surprise me. "Yet here we are. Care to share?"

"That depends on whether you're willing to do the same." My silence to his response lowered his head into my eyes this time. "Figured as much."

"You know," He was further ahead again as I spoke. "I wouldn't have minded if you hadn't made me your accomplice under duress. I don't remember including you while giving my reason. Why couldn't you take notes from me? Why bring me into your lie?"

   My simmering anger turned into a boil at the shrug he simply gave.

"Okay, how about this?" he turned over with a sigh. "Why don't we just keep our actual reasons to ourselves?"

"Are you doing this to protect Rav? Is that it?"

   A soft gasp escaped my lips when his hand grabbed my arm in an unexpected grip. Even though his hold wasn't harsh or anything, I couldn't keep my rapid heartbeats in check as he looked directly at me, not letting go.

"Aarav has absolutely nothing to do with this." He seethed.

   So his reason for not being mind controlled had nothing to do with any syncing like mine. I took that as the only version of his truth he was ever going to let me know. Fine by me. That didn't mean I wasn't going to keep suspecting him though.

"As long as you keep all of this between us."

"Our not-so-little secret then." Dorian whispered, the mutual gaze we shared afterwards taking me back to Virtual Night Dorian.

   I instantly noticed that his hand still had a hold on my arm, creating a level of heat in that area that could be used as comfort in the chilly air.

"Good." I yanked my body away and focused on beating him at his speed-walking game this time. Hopefully, a few steps ahead of him would remind me of the shady liar I was dealing with.

   It worked.

   This wasn't over.

"So what materials are being used for the drones you'll be making to get into the school? D'you think you have enough?" He questioned after a few minutes of silence passed.

   The sudden normalcy of his tone caught me off guard, but I decided I might as well just play along. For now, anyway.

"I have an unlimited source," I told him. "It's closer to home, where I'll be doing everything so,"

"Care to share?"

"Rigdeton's Mini Haven."

"Oh?"

   I hesitated at the need to explain further before murmuring, "It's, uh, a junkyard."

"Oh."

   I didn't have to read between the lines to detect his condescension. Ridgeton didn't have a lot of places of honour, but this was one of the places I personally took pride in. I was always excited when Mum brought the parts she'd find on her way from the hospital until I was old enough to go by myself.

   Everything I found at the junkyard was always sufficient to recreate the tech I desired and include my twists. That junkyard was the reason for my collections of recreations I could have never made with the absurdly expensive original parts. It was my ticket to Zavlon Academia.

   My steps turned fiery.

"I'm not too bad with machines, you know," he mused behind me.

   Hell no.

"We need to make it as soon as possible anyway. I could help. And I could bring my thermoset plastic material among other useful things." He took my silence as a sign to proceed. "Do you have a thermoset plastic material?"

   No.

   I sighed. That material was more subtle and resistant to heat than the one I had at home. I also couldn't brush away the fact that he was the captain of Zavlon's national-winning Robotics team and would have been my resentful tutor if this whole disaster hadn't occurred since he was a year ahead.

"Bring it over next time so we can work on it." Ugh...why was that physically draining to utter?

"Bring it over, as in over to your home? That's where you mentioned you'd be working right? You want me to come over?"

"What?" The source of the heat rushing through me switched from irritation to embarrassment. "No, that's—"

"Since you asked so nicely, I'll be there, " He retorted.

   Anxiety and humiliation really did a number on my ability to respond.

   But I did manage to ask, "What of Rav and Camila?"

"We'll all be there."

"Okay."

"I'll bring the material and other helpful stuff I find with me tomorrow," he stated. "Text me your address?"

   I blinked. Not surprising, it was difficult to see past the signature impassive, green-eyed expression staring down at me. Why did I make the stupid mistake of asking about the others when he was already a problem? Now I had just earned myself three pairs of eyes to judge, three mouths to frown and judge, three gestures to condescend and judge.

"You know I live in Ridgeton, right?"

"I do now." He shot me a pensive stare. "Is that an issue?"

   I released an internal eye roll. Like he didn't know. But maybe that wasn't so bad, a day in Ridgeton could give these snobs a hard, well-deserved smack of reality.

"No." I swallowed.

   I looked on with brows furrowed in confusion as he began searching through his pockets and cursed.

"I'll need your number so I can text you when we get to your neighbourhood," he said. "My phone's back at the bunker though."

"Oh. I didn't bring mine at all but I have a pen." Removing one of the few useful things I had stashed in my small backpack from home, I held it out to him.

   My surprise was hidden by the incoming gasp I sucked in when he thrust one of his ivory skinned arms toward me.

"Write it here." He tapped at a spot a little close to his pulse area.

   Holding his hand for support, I got to writing. The nature sounds gradually faded, leaving just our breathing. It was hard to pay attention with the warmth radiating from the hand I was holding. The mild heat from Dorian's hand wasn't because it was clammy like mine.

   It was not not nice.

   This lasted for a little more than ten seconds until I was finished. Dorian held up his arm afterwards, inspecting what I had written.

   As he did so, one side of his unbuttoned black jacket moved to reveal a white see through shirt underneath it. Instinct almost forced me to look away until I spotted a dark marking on his chest that contrasted with his shirt. 

   Wait, was that what I thought it was?

   Was that a tattoo on Dorian's chest?

   Before I could confirm and make out what he'd gotten a tattoo of, he carried on walking. Dorian and I didn't say another word to each other until we came out of the part of the woods that led us to the bus stop.

"Here," He paused to clear his hoarse throat. "Here we are. The aliens—Yunitides would be out again soon."

"Thanks." I mumbled.

   By the time I turned to the rustling trees behind me, Dorian had disappeared, leaving me alone to board the evening bus that would arrive any minute now.

   On my way home, my mind seemed to be subject to the same impact by the tattoo itself. I couldn't stop thinking about Dorian's chest... tattoo! His chest tattoo.

   Which I could bet no one else knew about.

A/N: Happy new month everyone! Isn't it crazy how quickly 2021 is going🥲?

Follow me on instagram : @zwrites._ I follow back!

Published: 2nd October, 2021.