Feathers -eng ver-

Chapter 15- Heart in Hand

With his arms wrapped around his chest in a protective pose, Noya couldn't stop staring in horror at the prince's too-close figure. Only three days had passed since the small troop of soldiers had left to go get the rest of the inhabitants of the House on the Hill, and since then, Cyan had done nothing but look for an excuse to go and disturb the dancer.

The Shadow disliked the idea of having to sacrifice the only angel who could satisfy his hunger, the only one who was so broken that, by pressing the right keys, he would return with his mind to the worst moments of his life. He was the only one who could feel all that fear simply by hearing a nickname, the only one who would paralyze like a frightened animal. Noya was the most fragile and broken creature Cyan or Killian had ever seen, and this drove -especially the first one- to always return to him.

Cruel as he might be, the Shadow's first goal was not to make the dancer's life hellish. His desire was not to destroy him permanently, only to exploit him for as long as possible. And the best way to scare him was to make him stay in the same room with the prince.

A few days after that handful of soldiers had begun their expedition, Killian had finally found an excuse for the prince and the dancer to meet. He had not even needed too much imagination, since the prince had a deep esteem and trust for him.

           Upon entering the room, Arden wasn't surprised to see Noya at the window, intent on admiring the night sky. He knew that the bed was barely touched and meals were barely tasted, so, he wasn't even surprised to find him exhausted and weakened. He watched his small eyes fill, for just a moment, with anguish and alarm, and then return to being the two indifferent and distant glass marbles they had always been.

At the entrance of the man and his personal guard, Noya stood and bowed respectfully, then brought his gaze to the floor, waiting for them to make the first move. He felt tired and without strength, his body weakening and getting thinner with each passing day, pushing him toward the end that he already knew was awaiting him. He didn't feel able to face him again, to be able to resist even that impact. But in the end he knew he had no choice but to go on. If nothing else, he would have tried.

«You are always so silent, don't you have anything to say?» The prince broke the silence. Moving forward to the centre of the room and getting closer, he left aside the soldier who had accompanied him, who remained near the door. On the other side of the room, Tanner watched without expression making, as usual, company for the dancer.

«I don't think what I would like to say would be to your liking.» Muttered Noya in a frown, clenching his jaw and squeezing his fists along his sides. The altered, determined expression was somehow proud, while a hint of courage shone in the blue irises.

The prince smiled and leaned even closer, joining his hands behind his back in a confident, relaxed pose. «How did I say you must behave when you talk to me?» He asked in a quiet, slightly ironic tone. Scrutinizing him with firm, determined eyes, he raised a hand and grabbed his chin, forcing him to return the gaze.

Tanner locked his jaw and clenched his fists behind his back to force himself to remain still. He didn't want his friend to be touched like that by the man; it disturbed him.

Annoyed by the contact, Noya wrinkled his nose and turned his head to the side, freeing himself from the man's fingers and refusing to look at his face. He did this not only so as not to give him satisfaction, but also for his own sake, to prove to himself that -unlike what he had always been told- he too could be brave.

He knew that he would be killed in less than two weeks, and he had decided that, in the time he had left, he would say what he wanted and behave as he pleased. In a way, being assured that he was the central piece of the ritual reassured him, because no one could harm him before then. And, by the way, he didn't think he could survive much longer: the treatment he received and his refusal to eat or sleep were killing him faster than he had expected.