|Power is my Love
Author: King Lune PM
Smart,Daring, Dangerous, are scary together. Even more when it's doubled by two. Join Tom and Levin as they wrap those foolish enough around their fingers in a war far beyond normality.WARNING Super-powers, Smirks,and a dangerous love game. Also SLASH.Rated: Fiction M - English - Crime/Sci-Fi - Chapters: 2 - Words: 3,703 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 09-19-11 - Published: 09-13-11 - id: 2952007
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I was five years old when I realized that my former best friend was right. The monsters take off their mask in the dark, and are clear to see. But in the light... people always act worse when they think you can't see them. I hate masks, I hate that they took him away from me.
Even being a six year old Tom knew something was up when Levin didn't come to school one day. Levin was always one to come to school even if he was sick, which wasn't often.
Tom watched the Mr. Hens frown, and look worriedly at his class. He saw Mr. Hens look at Levin's empty assigned seat right next to himself, before opening his mouth with trembling hands running through his graying hair and say the words that made him cry for the first, and only time since he was three, and gotten bitten by a snake in his manor's garden.
"Levin will not be coming back." Groans of disappointment and disbelief were heard through the entire classroom. However, that wasn't what made Tom's eyes trickle with tears, it was what he knew instinctively what came next; he knew and wished he could stop it, make the words not come. "I know you're all very young and some of your parents will disapprove of me telling you this but," Tom clenched his hands and felt the room, the world spin. This wasn't supposed to happen, Levin was supposed to be his best friend forever; they were supposed to get super powers together. They were going to rule the world; they were supposed to be strong.
"Levin had a very bad home life; it seems his mother was mentally unstable." Lies Tom thought, those bruises weren't of a woman's hands. How could he as Levin's closest friend not have done anything? "Levin's mother is now in a mental hospital, and Levin is dead." Tom knew his face was more open than he had ever allowed it to be even to his own beloved father, even to Levin when they were at their closest. "I hope we can all give our grievances to Levin's stepfather, he's going to be arranging the burial. It'll be sometime next week." Tears ran down his face and a silent sob choked in his throat.
NO! NO! NO! Levin was the only one! The only one, that accepted him! Tom started screaming and he didn't know if it was only in his head until the rest of the class flinched. The sound was like an animal dying.
Mr. Hens closed his eyes before doing anything. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, Mr. Hens thought. Children are supposed to grow-up happy, not disappear before they can say goodbye.
Levin winced as his previous cut lip opened again when he tried smiling at the bud driver.
"I'm fine," Levin said as he climbed up the steps to the public bus, "It's just my brothers you know." Levin smiled weakly. He wasn't going to get caught, not when he was so close to freedom.
After all, nothing was left at home for him. His father had gone off the deep end and beat him so bad, and his mother had just cried not even trying to help him like she had done before.
Levin traveled to the back of the bus after depositing his fare. He'd decided to run away. He'd thought about it many times before and had even saved up quite a bit of money he'd "picked up" from his step-fathers and other guests that visited the manor. He was smart though in knowing not to grab too many hundred-dollar bills, not only would they be noticed more but also it would be suspicious if he had to break them, which in the place he was planning on going would be even more dangerous.
You didn't carry a lot of money in the slums, and people there would eat you up and spit you out in a heartbeat if they found out you had money. He would have to be careful, sly, and above all else, power hungry.
Levin got off the bus at the correct stop, a run-down second hand clothing store. He couldn't just show up in the clothes he was wearing after all. Brand clothes were for kids who could afford to be caught and sent back, too waiting, "loving" parents.
I watched him from the light, a mask covering my face. I see he's become a soldier for the shadows, a fighter of monsters and masks. I grin, and know he's unable to see. That's okay, soon, soon…
Junior year and they all seemed so much worse. Tom snarled at the girls who were giggling near his locker. Stupid chits, didn't they ever learn that he was not interested in any female or anyone for that matter? All they did for him was annoy him to the point of wanting to rip out their vocal cords. All their giggling, gossip, and nonsense chatter just distracted him from his work. How was he going to finish his work on top of school, and his classmates annoying, ugly little lives?
"TOM!" Claire shouted at him. Tom turned his cold stare to the only one who bothered to talk him anymore. He probably would have cut her down and gotten her expelled if it weren't for her eyes. They were so similar to the same blue-green of his car a BMW, and more importantly the memory of Levin's eyes. It was a scared color, rare and brilliant. Every time he opened his eyes to cut her off he'd spot that almost color in her eyes, and stop as a pang in his heart sparked dully, and deep.
"Claire." Tom said dully. God she was annoying. Didn't she have better things to do than bother him? He didn't want to see her eyes. Hear her false words, she was a sucky replacement. She was a puzzle piece that didn't fit into his life.
"Where do you go after school every day?" Claire smiled thinking that she probably wouldn't get an answer.
Tom smiled a small smile directed at his locker where a picture of a small boy with dark wavy almost curly hair sat grinning with a gape toothed smile, with peering knowing blue-green radiant eyes, much better than any other color he'd tried to imamate, or found. The picture was hanging on the wall looking well loved, with small rips on the sides and slight water damage. He'd deal with her annoying questions for just a bit longer.
"I go to the graveyard." Tom said calmly, "Then I go to the science center, I'm trying to get into a special program by NASA."
Claire blinked surprised at the fact she got and answer. "Oh, that's…so cool! You should take me with you." Claire grinned a small hope in her heart that she could get closer to the mystery called Tom.
Tom scowled at Claire not amused at the eager expression on his face.
"No." Tom gracefully slipped away from his locker after closing it shut. People stared at him like they hadn't seen him before, eyes watching his trim impressive figure. A small smirk graced his lips. He wondered if Levin would be proud of him. After all didn't Levin say he valued power?
Tom would make sure he became the perfect person Levin would want, and do everything Levin dreamed about. He'd start with that NASA program. He would get special powers from them, and then he'd be in bliss. He'd have fulfilled his first step in his plans. After that, he would take over the world. Then with the newest technology he'd make a clone of Levin with the body he'd found in the grave of one Mr. Levin Nigel Luther. Yes, then life would be perfect.
Levin swaggered into the bar, a cheap cigarette in his mouth and bright blue-green eyes that flickered more than once to all the exits available in the room. His shoulder blade length dark hair was pulled up in a high messy pony tail on the back of his hair and it left out as much hair as it kept up, giving a appearance of a somewhat lazy, wavy style. His clothes resembled something of a cross between punk and army, with a dash of something classic. A weird look he knew, but he liked it, it made people look twice.
He was clearly handsome, beautiful if you asked someone who wasn't afraid of slow death by the subject of discussion. But there was also that air of other of worldliness that kept the usual flies out of his way. He was intimidating at the same time being invisible completely from those who were looking for the criminal he was known for being. Not that those looking for him knew what he looked like, no he was too good for that.
Levin sneered at the 17 year old built blonde he sat with in a booth.
"This is where you wanted to meet? I think your losing your touch "Marvy." Levin's mouth turned up in slight amusement. "I mean I thought you were trying to impress me."
The built blonde smirked. "I really hate that nickname, Levy Baby."
Levin kicked the blonde under the table missing horribly when the blonde who had been expecting such an action dodged. The blonde laughed a smooth deadly sound.
"See? I've impressed you already. After all, it's not every day you get the ice prince to make a move first."
"I truly hate you know that. You're annoying." Levin pouted then burst into a smile. "You did do that test I mentioned, didn't you? I can't be the only person with common sense in the nerd joint."
"Yeah Levin, I did." The Blonde sighed. "It was definitely an enlightening experience. There was this boy I'm sure you would have liked, he was such a prick I thought he was you at first." The blonde snickered.
Levin rolled his eyes. "You really should get that tongue checked out Marvy." Levin smirked leaning over the table eyes flashing angrily. "Because if you mess up this operation before I get what I want, I don't care how good friends we are I will beat your ass into hell, and make sure to lock the door behind me."
Marven grinned. "You forget I've been playing these games longer than you have. I won't mess up. I want the prize as much as you do."
Levin relaxed a bit then leaned further over and kissed Marven gently on the mouth. "I just can't mess this up, not so close to our prize."
Yay! Second chapter done. Have I mentioned that I like reviews? I think I have.. 0_0... But anyway here's a reminder, I like smiley face's too. :) Click that button anytime. Trust me when I say that reviewing gives the motivation to write more! Nothing makes a writer feel good like someone saying "I love it".