Pragma

d e k a t r í a

Midas walked out with a pencil in his hand and sat down next to you in the couch and held the pencil up in front of you with his thumb and index finger.

"Watch carefully" he said and stared intensely at the pencil. For a second it looked like the amber in his golden eye moved, like rings in water. The pencil slowly turned the same golden colour as his hands. It looked other-worldly. When it was all-golden, Midas gave it to you; it was solid as a rock, and it shined, just like his hands.

"Midas, I saw it at Jones' yesterday. I saw it all" you turned the pencil around in your hands, inspecting every millimetre of it. "I know, but I just wanted to show you that I can control it and that it's not something to be afraid of or worry about" he said and ran a hand through his hair.

"Thanks. It's still pretty woah" you said and played a bit with the pencil. "Yeah, pretty woah, but not when it's a curse and the only thing making people interested in you" he said and looked at the pencil.

"Can you turn anything golden?" you glanced over at him while twirling the pen around in your hands.

"I think so. As you saw the other day, I'm able to turn people to gold" he revealed and leaned back in the couch.

"Holy shit. It was crazy to watch" you remarked with wide eyes.

"If you think I'll turn you into gold, then you're completely wrong. Both my head and heart have to mean it, and my heart would never let me turn you to gold, y/n" Midas reassured you and held your hand.

"I trust you enough to know that you wouldn't do such a thing" a small smile showed on your lips. Midas' gaze travelled over to the fireplace, watching the flames dance with each other.

"Thank you, y/n. Well, at school people would hunt me down in the hallways and force me to turn their shit into gold, so I had to be able to defend myself. That's when I first got a gun and learned how to use it. I carried it with me to school and hid it in the waistband of my pants, always locked and loaded, ready at all times" he explained and sipped some more tea. He put the blanket over his body and ran a hand through his hair before focusing on the flames once more.

"One day Jones and some other people who had become a part of his "gang" jumped me, and I pulled out the gun and pointed it at them. They ran away like little dogs with their tails between their legs, God it was funny to watch" Midas recalled. That was the first time he had smiled since you sat down in the couch. That's something, at least.

"From that day on, nobody dared to sneak their shit into my bag or bully me. They respected me. Even the teachers were afraid of me, except for one teacher. The school offered classes of other subjects like business and economy and how to invest. It sounded interesting, so I joined the classes, and the teacher in those classes was the only one who wasn't afraid of me. He had the deepest respect for me, and he became like a father to me. We talked about a lot of the things that had happened and how I was feeling, and he supported me in the idea of starting a business and a Gold-empire" Midas explained and made eye contact with you. You grabbed his hand again and stroked it to comfort him.

"Our ideas of my business were a bit too far from one another. I wanted to create an agency with agents who had weapons and were specialized in such things – because who doesn't want a private and secret agency with actual agents in it – but my teacher had other plans. He wanted me to start an investments company where I would teach people how to invest and so on. I found out that my hands could help me on my way to create The Agency, or my version of my business, so I set up a meeting with some of the richer people on the island. I showed them what I could do with my hands, and we made a deal. If I turned their shit into gold, they would make me rich. I accepted the offer and worked for them for about 4 months. You've probably heard of them" he explained with a small smile on his lips.