Todos os capítulos de KISS OR KILL, CHERRY? (M×M): Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 19

Ezren: Every cell in my body was screaming abort mission, but Knox’s thumb brushed along my jaw, steadying me like he was anchoring some wild animal he didn’t plan to let bolt. The space between us was so small now, that I could count the faint flecks of gray buried in his irises. That same disturbing calm was still there too, making my pulse trip over itself. He leaned in and whispered once more, “Stay calm. I’ll handle it. Let’s give them something to talk about.” Right! Anything for Eli. My breath hitched, half from panic, and half from the awful realization that this man was not bluffing. Then, without warning, he smashed his lips to mine. I probably looked stupid while he was at it because I squeezed my eyes shut like I was actually enjoying it. This wasn’t like the ‘kiss-or-kill’ stunt at the bar the other day. This time, his fingers spread firm against my jaw, tilting my head like he was staking a claim in front of the entire room. And yet, God help me, his lips

Knox:And as you might’ve guessed, yeah.. the twat crept back into the room in the dead of night like the creepy fuck he is, thinking I wouldn’t notice. Two minutes later? He was snoring. And yes, of course I recorded every damn second of it. For leverage, obviously, or maybe just to laugh in his face later.What? Getting on his nerves is the easiest thing in the world, and unfortunately, I live for it. There’s just something delicious about shoving him off balance, peeling at the edges of his polished act until the cracks show.The funniest part? I don’t think he realizes how see-through he is. How contagious that stiff, noble, boy-scout energy of his can be. It’s pathetic, really.Take earlier for example. We hadn’t even taken five steps inside before a couple drifted past us. They were definitely from old money and all that pedigree garbage. The old woman gave me a polite little nod but the man looked at me like I’d pissed in his soup.So naturally, I smiled. Stuck my hand out. “I

Eli:They always say the first sound you remember shapes who you are.For me, it wasn’t laughter. It wasn’t even a song.It was my mother’s weak and tired voice, calling my name like she already knew she was about to be gone.I must’ve been six.Old enough to recognize her perfume and too young to understand the word ‘terminal’.I heard the doctor say that word to my dad. When we got home that day, I asked what it meant but he wouldn't answer. He unbuttoned his cuffs and told me to go to bed.I asked the nurse the next day. She smiled, said it meant “serious,” but she lied too.So I went looking myself. I found a dictionary in the hospital lobby. My fingers traced the letters until I found it.Terminal: something that cannot be cured. Something that ends.I remember staring at that page for a long time. That’s how I found out my mother was dying.From a dictionary.Mom never woke up after then. And Dad... he didn’t even cry. That image burned itself into me.And I think that’s when I

Eli:The place Knox took us to was barely holding itself together, but somehow it still felt like home. It’s an old bar, small and worn, with two rooms tucked behind it.It was obvious he’d spent a good part of his life there. He knew every corners in it without thinking, including leading the van straight to a hidden spot where it could be unseen.The night was cold. Ezren was already in one of the rooms, probably cleaning or straightening things out. I stepped into the bar out of curiosity. The place felt familiar in a way I couldn’t explain, and a part of me wanted to know how Knox had ever ended up somewhere like this.He followed me in after a while. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up and his ginger hair tied back. He looked tired in a quiet way.“Where’s Ezren?” he asked.I nodded toward the doors at the far end. “In there. I can hear him moving things around.” I pulled out a chair and sat.“Didn’t know you were this comfortable in South End,” I said.Instead of answering,

GARETH:The digital clock on the bedside table flickered, 3:14 AM. It had been exactly seven days since Knox had reached out with a status report on the mission. Seven days of progress reports that felt more like puzzles than answers.I stared at the ceiling, my mind a chaotic loop of Knox’s voice and Eli’s predictable arrogance. Eli had been the first to receive the message. He possessed a sixth sense for being the center of gravity, especially when there was a vacuum of power. I had woken up yesterday to a text that felt like a slap. “Don’t worry. I’m coming back with the real solution.”Typical Eli. He didn't just want to help; he wanted to conquer. I lay there, the weight of their rivalry pressing down on my chest. I was almost convinced they would never get along that the friction between them would eventually generate enough heat to burn everything we had built to the ground.“What are you thinking about, Gat?” The voice was low, a gravelly vibration that pulled me out of th