𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘈𝘤𝘵 ; miles fairchild x reader

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙊𝙉𝙀 (𝘔.𝘍)

It had felt like weeks had gone by as the pale boy peered out of the single-glazed window of the taxi. The sun had gone down by now, nothing but a mere glow of dim light shining throughout the freshley grown trees of new life, due to spring, to his chocolate-brown coloured irises. A huff had escaped past his parted, red lips, coated with cuts polished in both old and new blood, due to the nervousness of returning to the manor, where bad luck had just seemed to blossom freely among the hallways.

The male had caught his bottom lip between his front teeth, pressing down tightly until the familiar taste of a salty substance had met his taste buds. His right leg had bounced up and down as his foot, covered by the mandatory school shoe that the school had demanded that every boy to wear, had tapped against the flooring of the car, his eyes darting around the interior of the taxi, attempting to clear his mind from the scolding he would recieve from his caregiver, Ms.Grose.

Yet, he could not ignore the blisters that had burned the back of his heel from the tight leather shoe, and how wearing this mandatory uniform, despite being held off from the world around him, considering it was a boarding school, had been benefitial to his education. Though, complaining about shoes would get him no where, considering the women at the school had been treated far worse than the men when it had came down to dress code and what had been deemed 'appropriate' to wear.

The pale boy had huffed once more in attempt to contain the pitful feeling of anxiety. He had been glad to get out of boarding school, the constant feeling of dread had left him as he moved further away from his former classmates, or to put it in a more accurate way, his bullies. Yet, he had not wanted to return to the manor. The place had been drained of its usual feeling of welcome, which had been sucked out shortly after his parents death, then followed by the death of his close friend, Quint. The male had figured the house was haunted with his spirit, due to his own instincts, which was sure to torture any woman who had dared to step into the building, considering Quint had only considered women as his objects, only used for his own pleasure.

The generic-looking driver could not ignore the child's apparent acts of anxiety, peering back at him through the mirror situated between the driver and passenger seat. "You alright, kid?" The man had spoke with a husky tone, making sure to focus his divided attention on both the road and the pale boy behind him. The boy had looked cautiously up at the man, forcing his leg to stop bouncing as he dug his nails deep into the material of his school trousers. "Yes." He had replied simply in response, hissing ever so slightly as a twinge of pain shot up his leg at his action. "Travel sickness." The male had added in his raspy voice, lying in attempt to end the short conversation the other had started. The man had nodded and let out a short hum in response to his words. "Well, the drive should not be too long now, another five minutes or so, kid." He had spoke, still concerned for the boy, yet he had refused to get himself involved. "Alright." The male had replied shortly, glaring at the man before returning his gaze to the window, recognizing the forest that they had slowly drove past, indicating that they were close to home.

A smell of freshly cut grass could not be ignored as they had slowly got closer to his own residence. The pale boy had leaned back on the head-rest, his eyes not leaving the scenery as his thick, messy, raven curls bounced down to greet his glaring orbs.

The scenery had now changed as the car had stopped at a halt outside the entrance to the manor. The word, 'Fairchild', had sat at the top of the gates, the letters close to rusting, indicating how long the house had been passed down the family through the generations. These gates had been left open, which he had presumed was Ms.Grose, or the arrival of the new staff.

"So.. that'll be..-" The pale boy had cut the man off by handing him a handful of crumpled notes. "Keep the change." He had grumbled, glaring at the man before shoving the car door open, slamming it behind him as he stormed up the path, empty handed. The school had been in a rush to get the 'evil' boy out of the premises, so they had insisted they would send his suitcase, along with school-work, in the following days of his departure.

A distant sound of an engine could be heard, indicating that the man had drove away as the sound had faded with each forceful step the boy took towards the manor.

( milesfairch1ld ) ;;
              any notes would be appreciated.