Classified || 2 || ✔️ mature

32 | Lilac

I groan, twisting in the sheets tangled around me to stare at my other side, feeling the empty bed beside me.

I sit up slightly, the sheet falling to pool at my naked waist and I scan the darkness of the loft, light emanating from under the bathroom mirror.

The door opens and Seb appears, the light bathing his body in gold, highlighting the harsh shadows of his muscles and the stubble speckled across his jaw.

He shuts the light off, slipping us into darkness and I hear him walking for the bed before my eyes adjust.

The bed dips, "Come here." He beckons my closer and I scoot across, his arms curling around my waist and pulling us both back into the matters, Seb forcing my body to curl around his.

I get comfortable, resting my head along his chest, the heat of his skin keeping my body warm to the touch.

I beg sleep to come but she stays far away, keeping distance.

Judging by the rhythm of Sebastian's breaths, he is the same.

I twist my body more to face him, searching for his gaze in the shadows.

His arms tightens around me and he hums low in his throat, prompting me to open my mouth.

"Who was he?" I ask the question I'd been wanting to ask since we'd left that morning.

Seb was silent for a second as his hand moved, curling around my wrist, brushing along the scars there.

"He was a dead man walking." He answers and I grin despite the subject of the conversation.

"He's a part of a past that I needed to cut off for good, and I wouldn't be able to leave the past where it belongs if he was still breathing." Seb murmurs, his voice soft and filled with the memories tumbling through his mind right now.

"I'm glad he is dead." I whisper, hearing the pain in his voice and feeling my own answer.

"Me too." Seb mutters, his fingers drumming absently along my skin. "Soon they will both be dead."

I don't say anything for a second, unsure how to tread across the floor that lay between us.

"He was a part of a team, the two of them would-" he breathes out, "they would beat me and my brothers, force us to watch as the others were beaten, gives us things any child would want just to rip them away a day, a month, even three months later, lull us into a false sense of security. Me and my brothers got to a point where we never even enjoyed the little things, knowing they would be ripped away."

"How old were you?"

"I was seven the first time." Sebastian says, "Romeo was nine. Liam was four."

A pang slices through my chest and I curl tighter into Sebastian's body.

"He deserved every bullet you shot into him." I murmur.

Sebastian grunts in agreement, the world falling silent around us again.

I twirl my fingers in a figure eight pattern against Sebastian's chest, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he quietens, his heart beating steadily below my ear.

I tilt my head, looking up at the man, his face contemplative as he relives the memories of his childhood and I hum low in my throat, not wanting to startle him.

Sebs eyes flick down to me and he smiles, the move brightening his whole face, giving the dark man a boyish appearance.

I lean forward and slip a kiss across his lips before settling back into my spot.