Crimson Candy - ⊱billdip⊰ (wip)

01 ■ "Soaking Copper"

The heels to the man's leather boots stay still; lacking shine and ease against the tense hold it emitted from their practiced posture.

It was getting annoying.

Bill, not far from said man, stayed put in his chair with a disappointing frown; his hand resting against one of the armrests with a fingertip tapping against the edge of it in repeat. The lighting dim against the wide and tall room in which the other man filled in the isolation of the room - excluding the items, such as the tufted right arm chaise lounge front of him, the small circular table stood not far from his seat, and the small group of tea cups set amongst it. Long and towering windows around the circling room presented the darkly lit sky that passed the room sharply against the floor.

The soft smoke streaming from the served cup of tea taunted him, as well as the tea pot the other man held with gentle hands covered by satin gloves - their other hand occupied by holding the plate placed underneath the item they carried midair; identity hidden by the obligated helmet that only revealed the bottom half of their face. Bills gaze averted towards their rested lips.

It causes a thick sensation of air to be clogged in his throat - limiting something that hasn't made an appearance yet. It tightens his vocal cords in a choke hold, building up a piling room of pops that only crush against his ribs with each breath and is all closed in by the lid of air stuck in his throat and -

Yes, this was all getting annoying. He huffed a breath, turning his head back towards the closed doors of the entrance that graced with carvings of history. Averting his eyes to the only presence in the room with him, he states in mind, And very boring.

Bill doesn't like his feeder. At all.

And technically his bodyguard — which, he doesn't need, but the queen had insisted after the fourth murder attempt of another fleshing; they assured the bodyguard would be the most 'well behaved and fun.'

He's seeing no fun yet.

He had tried speaking with Tad, his messenger, to convince the king that he would prefer a replacement — one more different, talkative, just something new.

Anything but. Well, whatever this guy was.

Of course, that got denied, if the king was nothing but an idiot. The man had sent back the reply of him needing to keep this one for a bit longer, up until they themself had tidied up a specific contract they had with someone related to said feeder. Bill doesn't quite know who, as the King has made several stupid treaties or deals with several fleshings, but he could subtract those that most likely aren't part of it. Which mainly leaves the Northwest and Pines bloodline; the only ones who could cause a dent in his personal routine if gaining the Kings and Queens permission.

And considering those two are failures as rulers, it occurs more than needed. This specific dent just happened to be more of an issue than others, mainly because it's caused a pause in his personal personal routine.

And he can't even do much of it, since he has yet to figure out who specifically had made the dent.

Both Northwests and Pines had several generations that spread out, including those that aren't connected to the bloods and only of their hand in marriage that sprouts several new generations. This stupid feeder could've been someone's fucking third-cousin for all he knew, there was too many options. And the bloodlines of the two options were known for their traditional training to become some form of a bodyguard, less likely to be a feeder, so that on itself was a bit weird.