Chapter Text
Trey remembers the first time he wanted to kill someone clearly.
He assumes it’s like how people remember their first kiss, it’s an important part of himself, one he tries to bury with jokes and smiles, though it always finds a way back to him. Almost like a sickly loyal dog.
Everything about that day has been branded into his memory. It was hour three of his five hour lecture, his eyes were wet with tears and his fingers were shaking in their held tight fists. His gaze was swept downwards, head tilted towards the ground as he tried to steady his breathing. He wanted to dig himself deep into the ground and never come back out.
He wished she was dead.
Riddle’s mother.
There are few ways a child could wish for someone's death, he had known of such little tragedies that his mind could only supply him with images of her in a coffin. As he grew, so did his fantasies; he went from longing to see Riddle’s mother in the ground, to imagining how the blade of a knife would disappear into the stomach of a teacher that unnecessarily scolded him, and then to yearning to hear the sound of a skull being cracked open, as he drove a bat into the head of a student who had made a slight at his cooking.
Trey isn’t stupid, he knows if anyone caught onto even the shallow ends of his thoughts it’d spell disasters. His family wouldn’t look at him the same, and that was at the very least. At the most, he’d be plagued with psychologist visits for the rest of his life. No, he can’t deal with that. So, he hides his gripes with others as best he can, and plans to take this to the grave.
He lives a perfectly normal life, he got into a prestigious academy and has plenty of friends; friends that drag him along to any party they can sniff out.
Trey doesn’t drink, at least, not really. He’s their designated driver and in situations where he’s not behind the wheel, he still likes being the one with a clear head, he doesn’t want anything to happen to his friends after all. However, that day was different. Tension built up in the back of his mind, stress worming its way into every one of his thoughts, and was only expelled through alcohol. Blaring lights melted together as sips of beer turned into hastily downed cans, then turned into burning shots. He swayed with each step, feeling as if he was pushed out onto an ice rink without skates.
Eventually, he had made it to a balcony, a spot he was always sure to keep his drunk friends away from. His fingers gripped the railing hard enough to turn his knuckles white, and he keeled over the side, hacking up everything left in his stomach. An embarrassing moment that was only made worse by a stranger stumbling upon him.
The stranger had walked up to his side, watching him carefully as Trey’s head tilted slightly to connect their gazes. Through a fuzzy brain, he could recognize that the guy was good looking; short blue hair and mismatched eyes, a soft smile pushing at his lips.
“Oh, dear. Are you okay?”
Trey laughed, high, giddy, and definitely not all there.
“Yeah… yeah. I’m fine, I feel fine. Yeah.”
The stranger’s smile widened. The two held a conversation that all blended into a mess of words, Trey’s responses probably only loosely related to what they were talking about. The exact words were lost to the drunken haze, but one question stood out from the rest, a clear figure standing in the middle of the fog, holding such a strong contrast to their previous topics that it caused him to pause for a moment.
“Have you ever thought about killing someone?”
What? No!
…Is what a sober Trey would’ve said.
Instead, his eyes widened, and he blinked once, twice… Then allowed a small chuckle to leave his mouth.
“Sure.”
A secret he had held so tight to his chest, now out in the open because he was pried by five beers and a pretty guy.
That night was humiliating, and left shame to pool in his stomach the next day, where he currently sat in his bed. His shoulders were hunched, pain swarming in his head as he stared at the sheets covering his legs. Realistically, nothing bad can come from his conversation with the stranger. Even if his friends catch wind of it, they would just tease him for being so drunk he turned homicidal. Trey pushes his finger against the bridge of his nose, skewing his glasses as he rubs at his temple; an attempt to both vanish the embarrassing party from his mind, and to cool his pounding hangover.
Note to self, never drink again.
Clumsily, he reaches to his bedside table, grabbing his phone. With his focus shifted away from his blankets, he can see how sunlight pours in through his dorm window, casting a glow against his carpet. He probably slept through the entire morning, and after sparing a glance at the time reflected on his screen, he’s right. One sixteen. He doesn’t remember the last time he slept that long.
Trey looks down at the cluster of notifications he’d gathered, mostly texts from Cater, spamming about how he’d completely ruined his life and made a fool of himself. A few messages from Che’nya and Riddle are there, and he notices a single message from Rook, a small paragraph asking if he was okay from his drinking adventures of the night before; even though Rook had not attended the party. All in all, his phone looks normal.
Asides from the one text that sticks out from the others. It’s a short sentence from an unsaved number.
Unknown Number: Hello, how are you feeling?
How embarrassing is it to ask who someone is?
Trey saves all of his friends' numbers, he never wants to run into an issue like the one he’s faced with. If he doesn’t have them on his phone, then…
Oh.
The guy.
You: Hey! I’m fine, thanks for asking
You: Haha, sorry if I was weird or anything last night, I don’t really drink like that
The message had been sent early into the morning, so early Trey assumes it was when the party ended. While he expects to not get a response for at least another half an hour, the delivered tag quickly turns into a read, the three dots rising into view.
Unknown Number: I could tell.
Ouch, okay.
Unknown Number: I quite enjoyed our conversation, I hope it wasn’t solely due to your state.
How is he even supposed to respond to this?
He drafts a few messages, but deletes them all before he can press send. Eventually, he lands on the try and true method; ignoring the problem.
You: Nice to know
You: How about you, are you feeling alright?
Unknown Number: Yes, I didn’t drink.
Unknown Number: I stumbled upon you before I really had the chance, and I couldn’t just leave you on your lonesome.
You: You didn’t have to do that, now I feel bad for harshing your night
Unknown Number: It’s fine, really. I’d say it was worth it, anyways, as now I know where you live.
Trey pauses. A huff of a laugh leaves his throat, and he curls more in on himself and his phone, growing much more interested in the conversation.
You: I’m assuming you mean you walked me home?
You: I’m hoping, at least, haha
You: A really strange way to say that
Unknown Number: Yes, I walked you home. I didn’t mean to frighten you.
You: Well, you know where I live, so a fair exchange would be you giving me your name
Unknown Number: You forgot? Oh, Trey, I’m heartbroken.
Damn it.
You: Sorry! I warned you I don’t really drink!
Unknown Number: It’s okay, I didn’t tell you my name.
So what was the point of making him feel bad?!
Unknown Number: I’m Jade Leech.
Trey pulls up the screen to edit the contact, filing him as Jade. The last name is what really sticks out to him, Leech; sounds familiar.
You: Do you have a brother by chance?
Jade: You’ve heard of him?
You: Floyd, right?
You: It’s kind of hard not to, he’s always hovering around my friend
You: You may know him, actually, Riddle Rosehearts?
Jade: Ah, yes. Floyd talks about him quite a bit. Small world!
You: No, I just think your brother has a big name
He’s mostly only spoken to Floyd through proxy. He tends to cling to Riddle like a koala, and even outside of that, his emotions switch too rapidly for Trey — someone who sees Floyd once or twice a week — to keep up with. He knew Floyd had a brother, he’d mentioned it a few times in passing, and he expected to meet him in a far less embarrassing way than this.
The rest of their conversation dances by as normal. Jade doesn’t circle back to their little murder conversation back at the party, and they instead discuss their class schedules, majors (Trey learns that Jade is a business major, which he probably should have expected from his typing style), and plans for the day.
Trey’s well aware that Jade’s hitting on him. While Jade certainly has a strange way of speaking, a few sly comments give away his intentions. Trey’s never sought out a relationship, and it’s not that he’s never had one, he’s had plenty, people just tend to come to him. He supposes this isn’t any different.
As their conversation begins to slow, Trey pulls himself out of bed. He has half an hour before the Science Club meeting, and going there with the hangover straight from hell was a problem past Trey should’ve died for inflicting onto him. He needs a shower, and probably a cup of tea... Yeah, that sounds nice.
His dorm is small. It has everything he needs, and his third year at Night Raven College granted him the privilege of not having a roommate. He didn’t mind Cater’s company, but anyone would jump on the opportunity to live by themselves. He drifts from the bathroom, to his wardrobe, then he’s out the door, footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. Some of his acquaintances are lingering in the building's lobby, and they spare Trey a wave as he exits onto the campus. The soft October breeze brushes through his hair, the blazing sun evening out the temperatures.
It really is a beautiful day, just what he needs.
He ducks through the crowd of people hovering around the cafeteria, placing an order for mint tea and ringing up a bag of candied violets. The employee writes his name with an I, Trei, and he has no idea how they could’ve possibly come to that conclusion. He glances at the time, he has a little under twenty-five minutes.
Well, it’s not like he can do anything in that period.
So, he walks back outside, and makes his way to the building his clubroom is located in. He’s the first one there, of course, so he takes the peace and quiet to enjoy his breakfast, occasionally using his feet to sway the office chair he’s in back and forth.. After minutes draw by, the sound of the mounted clock ticking in his ears, the room begins to fill. Clubmates greet him, whether that's verbally or with a nod of their heads, and some stroll in with friends in tow, eyes glancing over every beaker and flask that decorates the room. Despite Trey’s attention regularly being drawn to the door, Rook sneaks in unnoticed, and scares the life out of him when he grabs onto Trey’s shoulders from behind.
“Chevalier des Roses!” Rook coos, chuckling at Trey’s expression. “My, my, you’re here quite early. What’s the occasion?”
Trey waves Rook’s hands off of him, turning to face his friend with a small smile.
“No occasion, it’s just how my time fell.”
Rook looks down at the tea and candied violets.
“Oho, I hope your hangover isn’t too distracting~! I know you drank quite a lot.”
“...How? You didn’t even go,” Trey pauses, before the extent of Rook’s volume really dawns on him, causing the tips of his ears to go pink, “shh! Rook! Don’t say that too loud…”
“You are young, Chevalier des Roses! It is not a crime to indulge in some partying.”
“I don’t want everyone to think I’m a party animal.”
“Hm, yes, especially because you are certainly out of your depth when it comes to parties.”
You overdrink once and it’s all everyone can talk about, huh? Trey can’t show his face at any event for awhile.
Trey opens his mouth, ready to respond, but a freshman walks up to them before he has the chance. He’s dressed for the club, though his friend is not; clearly someone who tagged along just to keep the freshman company. His friends ducked behind him, their hands intertwined as if comforting each other.
“Uhm, Trey…?” He mumbles, gaze directed so tightly to Trey, that he can sniff out almost immediately that they’re desperately trying to avoid Rook. “C-Can you help us with something?”
Rook leans to the side, forcing himself into the poor freshman’s line of sight.
“Ah, is something wrong? I can always assist you!”
“N-No-!! I mean, uh, it’s fine. We don’t wanna bother you…”
“Nonsense! I love helping my underclassmen. Chevalier des Roses is focused on his meal, anyways.”
Trey weighs his options.
He can insist that it’s fine, maybe make up some lie that he just finished. The two obviously don’t want to talk to Rook, and as much as Trey enjoys his company, he can see why.
…However, he’s not sure he can be of any help with this headache. Rook may make them uncomfortable, but he’d solve their problem, at the very least.
“I’ll check in when I’m done, okay? Rook can help you in the meantime.”
The freshman’s friend makes a sound, like a groan of annoyance that he’s trying to mask. Rook either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, as he claps his hands together in joy, leading the two back to their table.
And, Trey’s alone again.
Maybe he should’ve skipped this meeting. He’s not required to be here, he doesn’t even know why he showed up in the first place. He hasn’t missed a single one, the constant routine could’ve imprinted itself into his mind, making him view this as unavoidable as his actual classes.
He reaches his hand into the bag of candied violets. Just as he pulls one out and pops it into his mouth, a figure takes up the upper half of his vision, standing right in front of the table Trey sat at.
Trey jolts, snapping his head up, how’d he completely miss someone approaching him? Especially when that person was-
Floyd Leech?!
Blue hair, black streak, mismatched eyes, and a neatly buttoned collared shirt.
Strangely put together Floyd Leech?!
That’s certainly odd, even Floyd’s best outfits have a few screws loose. Also, Floyd would’ve announced himself by now, and he wouldn’t smile like that, and… Is his hair streak on the wrong side?
“Hello, Trey.”
That’s a different voice.
“Oh,” Trey blinks, his words finally clawing out of his throat, “you’re the guy from the party.”
Jade’s lips twitch into something just shy of a pout.
“I told you my name.”
Trey laughs softly.
“Sorry, sorry, you caught me off guard,” he watches as Jade circles around the table, pulling out the chair right next to Trey and sitting down. He crosses his legs, propping his elbows up on his knees in order to rest his chin against his palms. “Did you come here for the meeting, or…?”
“Or did I come here for you?” Jade finishes, his smile widening. “Guess.”
Today is one of Trey’s weirder days.
“Well, I’d think if you wanted to talk to me, you’d just text me.”
“Hm, yes, I could’ve.”
“…So, is that it? You’re here for me?”
“That’s your guess?”
This guy.
Okay, Trey, think. It would be completely nonsensical for Jade to only show up for him, and a little creepy; maybe a lot creepy. They met yesterday and had a conversation that Trey only somewhat remembers, he shouldn’t really think so highly of himself.
On the other hand, he just spilled to Jade this very morning that he had a club meeting. The chances of this being a coincidence are slim to none. Trey can take the risk.
“Yeah, that’s my guess.”
Jade’s smile grows, the crinkling of his eyes highlighting to Trey just what was uncanny about his previous grin; it wasn’t a real one.
“You’re right,” Jade confirms. “I wanted to see you in person again.”
“You could’ve just asked me to meet up.”
“Do you not want me here?”
“I didn’t say that,” Trey chuckles.
Jade’s legs untangle from each other, planting his feet flat on the ground as he leans back in the chair, scanning the room. He locks onto a grey door hidden in the back of the class, the only thing stopping it from blending in with the walls being the bright yellow caution sticker smacked onto it.
Jade stares at it and allows silence to stretch between them.
Trey tilts his head.
“Are you interested?”
Jade’s head spins back to Trey, as if it’s on a swivel.
“In you? Yes.”
Firstly, not what he meant. Secondly, extremely forward of him. Trey feels heat dance onto his cheeks, his thoughts momentarily stopped in their tracks.
“Ah, thank you. I meant— You were looking at the…”
Jade suddenly rolls his chair closer, causing their knees to press together. Trey instinctively leans away, but Jade follows, grabbing onto Trey’s armrests and getting closer and— Oh my sevens, what is happening right now?!
“My apologies, I don’t mean to draw my attention away from you.”
Trey’s heart skips too many beats for it to be healthy, his breath caught in his throat and escaping him as a soft squeak when Jade nears. He looks from the boy in front of him to the closet Jade had been focused on, as if his eyes could properly portray what he’s trying to say.
Jade’s hair is neatly combed, the light reflects beautifully off of the gold in his eye, and Trey can smell hints of his cologne due to their proximity. This is all so…
“Ooh lala~! Romance is in the air, I see!”
…SO IN PUBLIC!
Both of them immediately turn to the voice, Trey seemingly the only one mortified at their current situation. Rook stands on the other side of the table, his hands on his hips and a beaming smile on his face. Trey weakly pries his fingers under Jade’s own, forcing him to let go of Trey’s armrest and sit properly back in his own seat.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Trey shoots Jade a glare, and Jade makes an expression that can only be described as fluttering his eyelashes. “Uh, Jade, this is Rook. Rook, this is Jade.”
“I know.”
They talk at the same time, speech merging together into one sound. Trey would normally assume that means they met before, perhaps in a class or just out and about. However, they way their eyes simultaneously widen, Rook’s expression of shock much easier to recognize than Jade’s, gives away that they mistook their knowledge for one-sided. A barrage of giggles leave their mouths, high, strangely tense, and a clear sign that perhaps their paths were never meant to formally cross.
“Chevalier des Roses and Monsieur Prémédité… I must say, you two are an intriguing pairing.”
“We just met last night,” Trey clarifies.
Rook’s fingers intertwine, and he pushes the back of his palm against his cheek, his tone sing-song like.
“I simply need to know, Monsieur Prémédité, what brings you to our humble club? If you need anything at all, we sure can help you out!”
Curiosity similarly plagues Trey. He glances over at Jade, awaiting an answer. Jade presses one of his fingers against his chin, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side in a thinking motion. For a breath, maybe two, he’s quiet. Is he pondering saying it at all? Does he suddenly have cold feet now that Rook’s around? Rook does tend to scare people off.
Jade’s pupils grab his own, gazes locking together in a way that, oddly, makes Trey grow uneasy.
“I wanted to ask Trey here if he’d like to go hiking with my club afterwards, if he’s not busy, that is.”
What?!
“How sweet!” Rook coos. Not sweet at all. Going out to the woods with the guy he talked about murder with the night before? People have died doing less.
“Oh, what’s your club?” Trey asks.
“It’s a bit of a silly name… The Mountain Lovers Club.”
Going up in the mountains with the guy he talked about murder with the night before? People have CERTAINLY died doing less.
When he shakes himself out of his thoughts, he realizes Jade’s giving him the softest smile and it’s so endearing it throws him right back into his brain.
Alright, pros and cons. Jade’s definitely into him, Trey’s met plenty of flirty people and the difference between playful comments and clear intent is obvious. This could be a date, and it’s not like Trey would mind, Jade’s not particularly bad looking himself. Besides, it’s not like they’ll be completely alone, it’s a club activity! Safety in numbers, right?
Now, of course, Trey has a massive hangover right now. Hiking can not be of any help to it, if anything, it’ll make it worse. Also, dying with a headache can’t be fun, if Jade really is trying to kill him.
Sevens, why’d he have to ask in front of Rook? An audience makes it so much harder to turn these things down.
“I’d love to go.”
…What’s the worst that can happen?