The Lonely Ones

Chapter Eighteen: A Thing For Blondes

A week passed. Wren never appears.

Artemis hunts the woods and manages the shop, head always on a swivel. From time to time, he sees wintry eyes observing from the forest; a cool gray tinted blue in the most alluring fashion. Then he blinks, and the vision vanishes.

Is this the end to the lonely knight and his prince? Perhaps it should be. Although Artemis isn't certain what to do about his mother. Camellia remains entranced. She's awake earlier than Artemis every morning to make breakfast. She hums and dances like she doesn't have a care in the world. But Artemis makes out the glint in her eye. Like the real Camellia is held captive by a spell and aware of her own forced movements. The thought of that being true makes his gut churn. As much as he loves feeling her loving arms around him, chatting over a meal or hearing her tell him she loves him, he'd rather hear honest hate than forced lies.

After another day of hunting, Artemis returns to his shop where he sells fresh meat to exhausted travelers. It isn't until almost daybreak that a youthful boy around Artemis' age enters. His light blonde hair shimmers in the dying sunlight, and yet it's dull compared to his vibrant blue eyes. Stepping into the shadows of the shop does little to dampen his shine. There's something oddly familiar about him. The way he holds himself? The slight lilt to his endearing smirk? Artemis can't quite put his finger on it.

"Good afternoon," Artemis mutters when catching the boy's eye. Doing so makes his heart stutter.

"Good afternoon. You're still open, aren't you?" The boy asks, a cadence on his tongue Artemis can't place. He nods.

The boy leans against the counter, studying fur hanging on the wall. Most purchase them for blankets or materials to make a suitable winter coat. Artemis considered learning how to make coats himself, but he poked himself with a needle one too many times and gave up. Why do slight injuries hurt so much more than big ones?

"Do you have any suggestions?" The boy asks, settling an elbow on the counter and his chin atop his hand. "The meat at the local inn isn't up to my standards. I overheard travelers claiming this is the best place to stop to make something yourself."

"That depends on what you like."

"Tall, mildly mysterious, maybe a bit brooding with brown hair and green eyes," the boy answers without missing a beat. Artemis' heart, on the other hand, misses a few. More so when the boy's gaze wanders over Artemis in obvious interest.

"Ah, right, you were speaking about something else. My mistake," the boy adds, eyes falling half mast. A darkness settles into his gaze that's almost stupefying. "I'll trust whatever you recommend."

Artemis nods, chiding himself when he stumbles into the back room. The boy snickers. Artemis reminds himself to breathe, then shuffles to get a clean cut of deer meat for the ridiculously attractive stranger. When he sets it on the counter, the boy considers it and nods, deeming it acceptable.

"What's your name?" The boy asks while Artemis gets the needed material to wrap the purchase.

"Artemis."

"Artemis," he repeats. The name slips beautifully off his tongue. Again, in a way that's familiar. Heat rises to Artemis' face. The stranger speaks under his breath.

"I beg your pardon?" Artemis asks. The boy shakes his head, smiling ear to ear.

"I was only wondering if you have a thing for blondes," the boy answers, so frankly it leaves Artemis speechless. The boy pouts. "Maybe not?"

"I, uh..." Artemis' throat goes dry. He gazes upon the blue of the stranger's eyes, sensing a chill like that of winter wind breaching a window's shutters in the late night. "I do-don't really think I have a, uh, specific thing for a-anyone," Artemis replies.

"Really?" The boy perks up, eyes flickering over with devious intent. "So I have a chance?"

Artemis gapes. The boy throws his head back in an enrapturing laugh, "I've never been one to keep my interests to myself. Does that bother you?"

Artemis can't bring himself to respond since he doesn't know what he wants to say.

"I'm curious how I've got you so tongue tied," the boy continues when Artemis not only can't respond but also hasn't finished wrapping the meat. He swiftly looks down to finish and hopefully hides his darkening face when the boy adds, "Surely you've had your fair share of interested parties, let alone partners. I can't be the first to hit on you the moment I walked in."

"You are, actually," Artemis mumbles, choosing not to address the mention of partners. If Dovin counts, then Artemis has had one. Didn't exactly end well.

"Nonsense. I'm probably the only one who was so blunt," the boy argues.

Artemis pushes the product across the counter for the customer, telling him the price. The boy doesn't hand over his coin. He holds it in his palm, offering it for Artemis to take. When he does so, the touch of skin makes his arm break out with goosebumps.

The boy lets the tip of his fingers graze the palm of Artemis' hand before he backs away. "I appreciate the assistance, Artemis. We'll see each other again soon."

Then he walks out the door. The shop grows intensely warm. Artemis tugs his shirt to fan himself, wondering what that was about. He has the same question the following day when the boy returns.

There's another customer in the shop. Artemis tends to them, his gaze constantly straying to the blonde boy waiting patiently behind. When their eyes meet, Artemis swears there are stains of gray in his eyes and his blonde hair is almost shimmering silver. Then he blinks, and all is as it should be. Or that's what he's being made to believe.

"Have a nice day," the customer says. Artemis mumbles the response in return, glimpsing at the boy stepping up to the counter.

"Was my recommendation not to your liking?" Artemis asks when the boy doesn't speak first.

"Would I return if that weren't the case?" The boy refutes, leaning against the counter once more. "Do you really stand here on your own all afternoon? It must be boring."

Artemis listens intently to the boy's voice. He almost expects to hear Wren's, but that definitely isn't his voice. It's too high pitched. And how could he come into the shop in a disguise? The windowsills and doorways are salted. Artemis carries St. John's Wort in his pocket. Wren should not be able to hold his glamour under such conditions.

"I tend to be pretty busy," Artemis replies.

"That doesn't mean it isn't boring."

"I suppose, sometimes it is. Are you here to purchase something else?"

The boy purses his lips. "Trying to get rid of me so soon?"

"No." Artemis would actually like him to stay so he can figure out what's so damn familiar about him, or if he's going mad for suspecting Wren to be involved.

"Good. I don't feel like leaving yet. There aren't that many cute faces to admire around here," the boy adds, smirking. Artemis clears his throat. "And there's no one who looks as good in red as you do."

"How would you know that? Are you flirting with every shopkeeper you come in contact with?"

"Would you be jealous if I was?"

"No."

"Liar," the boy purrs, lips twisted into an all knowing grin. Almost too devilish for his angelic features.

Another customer enters. Artemis isn't sure if he's relieved or upset. The boy requests Artemis to give another recommendation. This time, he slides the coins across the counter. As he heads for the door, Artemis takes a chance. He calls out, "Wren!"

The boy doesn't falter, walking away without ever looking back.

Am I overthinking things? Artemis wonders.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

Hmm, is Artemis overthinking things? Perhaps he's just not used to being flirted with so openly, but come on, how can anyone resist? We all know Artemis is actually a total heart throb lol