Wild Uncharted Waters (Carlos De Vil x Male OC)

1. 𝓘 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓒𝓻𝔂

      The blue waves felt amazing against Asher's skin. He loved swimming, whether it was to calm down or to get inspiration. His mother always told him to stay away from the Isle of the Lost, the wretched land of villains, but he tended to take after her in the sense that he was curious about the forbidden. So, he swam there anyway, looking and watching as petty theft after petty theft took place—that was until a boy spotted him.

"Hey," The white-haired boy shouted, his voice trembling with curiosity and wonder as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes wide with amazement.

Asher, panicking, dove deeper into the water, his heart racing as he tried to calm his frantic thoughts. The fear of being discovered gnawed at him, and he swam furiously, the cool water rushing past his skin. He couldn't afford to be seen or caught; the risk was too great. Desperate to maintain his secret, he changed direction, heading for the safety of his hidden cove. He hoped fervently that the boy wouldn't tell anyone about their encounter, his mind replaying the moment over and over. Each stroke took him further from the shoreline, and with every beat of his heart, he prayed for his secret to remain safe, fearing the repercussions if word got out.

Asher entered the hidden underwater cove, a secluded haven he often retreated to when he needed solace. This secret spot, tucked away from prying eyes, felt like a sanctuary. He took a moment to catch his breath, his mind still racing from the encounter. The thought of the white-haired boy lingered, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. What if the boy told someone? Worse yet, what if his mother and father found out he had dared to visit the Isle of the Lost?

Asher shuddered at the thought. His parents had always warned him about the dangers of the Isle, the treacherous land ruled by villains. He couldn't bear the disappointment in their eyes if they discovered his disobedience. Hours passed as he tried to calm his nerves in the cove, the cool, dark water providing a temporary refuge.

Eventually, Asher knew he couldn't hide forever. He had responsibilities back in Auradon, and class was starting in just an hour. With a resigned sigh, he began his swim back, the familiar waters guiding him home. Each stroke was heavy with the weight of his secret, but he pushed forward, hoping against hope that the boy would keep their encounter to himself. As he neared the shores of Auradon, the bright sun filtering through the water, Asher steeled himself for the day ahead, praying his indiscretion would remain hidden.

The boy raced down the bustling halls, his heart pounding as he weaved through the throngs of students. He hoped to stop by his locker before class started, his mind preoccupied with not being late. As he hurried along, he bumped into several classmates, muttering quick apologies—"Sorry" or "Excuse me"—without breaking his stride.

Finally, he reached his locker, the familiar metal door a welcome sight amidst the chaos. He fumbled with the combination lock, before it finally clicked open. He grabbed his history book, stuffing it into his already crammed bag, along with a pair of tennis shoes for gym class. He took a moment to catch his breath, the morning's frantic pace catching up to him.

With his essentials in hand, he made his way to his first class of the day: History of the Kingdoms of Auradon. The hallways seemed to stretch endlessly before him, the distant hum of conversation and the clatter of lockers blending into a background noise. He walked briskly, his mind shifting from the morning's rush to the upcoming lesson. This class was one of his favorites, a deep dive into the rich and varied histories of Auradon's many realms.

As he approached the classroom door, he took a deep breath, the familiar scent of old books and chalk welcoming him. He found his usual seat and settled in, ready to immerse himself in the tales of heroism and intrigue that shaped Auradon. Despite the morning's frenzy, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, knowing he was in a place where history came alive.