Sebastian's room smelled like stale Earl Grey tea and the lavender candle Beatrice had left burning last week. His door clicked shut behind him, too loud for his siblings' liking, but he never cared.
Sebastian took his phone out from his pocket, thumb swiping across the screen before he'd even taken off his shoes.
No messages.
No "Made it home" text. No sarcastic "You know, I just imagined you in fuchsia pink, and I never laughed so hard in my entire life" follow-up. Just the blank glow of the screen, throwing the shadows across his palms.
"Hmm, odd." He tossed the phone onto the couch. "The tribe meeting must be dragging on," he muttered to the empty room.
He looked at his old record player, sitting dusty in the corner. He'd been collecting vintage vinyl for months now, ever since Lucas had drunkenly confessed he loved 80s rock.
A perfect courting gift, or so he'd been told. He was planning to give them as a courting gift to Lucas to show that he would do everything to win his favor.
Sebastian hummed a tune as he wiped dust off of the first record. The needle squeaked as it made contact with the groove. He turned the volume down to the middle, where he could still hear the fridge humming from the kitchen.
Music filled the room, thick as the humidity clinging to his skin. Remembering the first time he had met Lucas.
Becca's laugh, bright as the umbrella she'd twirled between them. Lucas, lurking behind her like a storm cloud in a leather jacket. Beatrice, who had been grumbling for weeks about her "loner friend who never socializes," dragged Lucas along during one of their awkward movie dates.
Sebastian could still remember how Lucas smelled like pine needles and gunpowder. How his hands wrapped tight around his coffee cup like he was afraid it might run away.
"Luke, I want you to meet Sebastian, my boyfriend."
And those eyes. Those brown eyes were not ordinary. The kind of brown that held a glint of gold if anyone looked long enough.
He saw them.
He saw the fear and the panic alongside the longingness that he could not pinpoint. He held out his arm in his direction, showing a small smile, the only thing he could manage out of that awkwardness.
"I'm Sebastian Reed. Beatrice has been talking non-stop about you." Beatrice gasped as she slapped his arm. "I did not! " she quietly shrieked before smiling back at Lucas.
He looked back at Lucas, but he could barely see his eyes. His hand was still hanging in the air, on the verge of retracting it back when Lucas accepted it.
Sebastian felt the warmth and the grip behind his touch. It was like the sun pierced through him without much pain, like being burned at a stake. The rough skin around his palm, thinking back to the story Beatrice once told him about Lucas being a mechanic.
"Lucas," he said.
His voice struck him unexpectedly. It was a honey-like texture. It was not too deep, yet it was as if he were being dragged by an invisible force towards the void of his voice.
Sebastian could only nod before looking back at Beatrice, giving her a sweet smile. Beatrice, the ever-loving woman he met accidentally on his trips to Nevada. He never knew that he would meet his singer at that place.
Beatrice was telling a story about some classmates when Lucas cleared his throat.
"Hey, sorry. Something came up. I needed to go home."
Becca looked back, confused. "Oh, are you okay? Is your dad okay?"
The man nodded; Sebastian could only mask a poker face, but deep inside, he was saddened.
"I should...yeah. See ya next time." And he ran.
Away from them and into the dark city. From then on, Sebastian started stalking the guy every night. Like clockwork.
He watched from behind the trees, near the grid line. Never passing through, never again. Yet, he felt every breath that Lucas exhaled as he slept.
Sebastian smiled at the memory as he listened to the recorder before reaching for his phone. "Weird," he muttered. He stared at his phone. The black screen was staring back at him.
He opened their last texts:
[Yesterday, 11:38 PM] Lucas: Sorry, barely escaped Dad's clutches. Still at the motel?
[Yesterday, 11:52 PM] Sebastian: Room 134. Bring an extra condom and coffee.
[Yesterday, 11:53 PM] Lucas: Dude, first of all, ew. Second, hell no. You said we are doing raw this time.
[Now, 1:48 AM] Sebastian: Change of plans. Now get in here before I change my mind.
[Now, 2:00 AM] Lucas: You're lucky; you are my imprint.
He looked at his watch and blinked. 8:35 AM. He left the motel at 6:45 a.m., drove to Becca's house, ate breakfast at 7:15 a.m., and then reached home at 7:45 a.m.
Calculating Lucas' time from when he left the motel and his ungodly speed, "He should've arrived at the pack meeting at exactly 7:50 AM."
Pack meetings never ran this long. Sebastian had witnessed it before, when he used to stalk Lucas from afar.
Sebastian rubbed his chest where something ached.
Yet he ignored it, probably just that shitty motel mattress. He sat up from his bed, walked towards the record player, and turned the music louder.
"He will text. I know he will," he muttered in his mind, trying to make sense of everything, yet the words fell flat in his heart. The bond pulsed, once sharp, like a muffled scream, and Sebastian rubbed his sternum again.
Heartburn, probably.
He went out of his room, straight to the kitchen, to drink a glass of water. His sister, Rachelle, looked at him with worry.
"Are you okay, Sebastian? You look rather…pale."
Sebastian scoffed, turning his body in her direction and smiling. "I've always been pale, Rachelle."
Rachelle rolled her eyes. "Whatever." Sebastian ducked his head as he laughed softly at his sister, who went back to where her mate was.
He stared at them, longing evident in his eyes. Soon, Lucas and I will do the same.