Timeless Masters | boyxboy | (Book Two: The Master Collection)

Chapter XIX - Familiar Faces

It had taken quite a bit of time to find the perfect place to live, and surprisingly everything had gone a lot smoother than expected. The moment they'd arrived in Paris, Quinn was hard at work getting a feel for the city. Though he'd spent time here in this country during his childhood, he hadn't gotten to know it as much as he'd have liked. After a few days of staying in hotels, he at last was able to locate a real estate department. The elderly man who'd sold him and Oliver their countryside cottage had indeed been a curious one, asking all kinds of questions when discovering their foreign background. Yet, he hadn't asked what two obvious English noblemen were doing looking for a home together. So long as the man was paid, he let them be to start things off.

The home was on a lonesome, vast patch of land with a beautifully founded cottage hidden within a line of trees. Built on a platform of block with an outstretched wilderness surrounding it, a tan and light stone house sat constructed, the roof a sturdy darker stone of steep elevated peaks. It was a two story home, a set of angled stairs leading up to the entry door of the second floor, and a bricked archway leading onto the property from the extensive pathway to the travel road.

The moment Oliver laid eyes on the place, he fell in love, wanting to purchase it the same day after getting a look around on the inside. By this time, it was completely theirs, moved into, but there were still quite a few essentials they needed to bring about the finishing touches. The upstairs kitchen and living areas were furnished, while the two extra rooms downstairs were still in need of beds. Not that Oliver minded having to sleep closely to his dark-haired lover on the divan.

As dawn crept over the green pastures surrounding the cottage, Oliver awoke from the restful slumber, tucked comfortably against Quinn's bare chest. There was a single cover over them, and when he peered up toward Quinn, the other boy was still fast asleep, one arm folded behind his head as his chest moved softly up and down with each breath.

It'd been a whole seven days since running away from Southampton, and all this time he wondered what his mother and father must be feeling, but even with that woeful curiosity, he knew very well he couldn't go back. There was no telling what awaited them if ever they did return to England. Mr. van Zant's reaction was all it took to convince them that staying away was their only option. Though he wanted to believe his mother and father were incapable of feeling any sort of resentment toward him, it was better this way, to remain in the dark on the subject, than to head into a confrontation they could avoid. This, a life without family, would have to do.

Oliver peered up at Quinn again when his body jolted lightly, the boy's brow then wrinkling in discomfort. A moment later he shook his head in protest, balling his hand into a fist and his breath began to shake. "Quincy?" Oliver voiced softly.

"No..." Quinn's tone was heavy, wary in a manner of sadness coming upon him. "Let him — don't, no..."

Sitting up on top of Quinn, Oliver touched gently at his cheek, "Quincy, what's wrong?"

The moment it appeared this dream taking place inside the boy's mind became too much, Quinn's eyes shot open and he sat up abruptly, his sudden movement giving Oliver a fright. When meeting the blond boy's eyes, Quinn immediately wrapped him up in his arms, able to breathe regularly once again.

At the sudden embrace, Oliver let it be, allowing his lover the silent comfort of his own being. Brushing his fingers through Quinn's tangles, Oliver felt the relieved sigh leave him. "What was that all about?" he asked. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"The worst," Quinn admitted.

Looking down into dreary hazel eyes, Oliver angled his head in curiosity, and said, "May I ask what it was about?"

Quinn didn't want to speak of the events that'd taken place within his mind, happy in a way that all of it had only existed in his head. "You were being taken from me," he explained. "No matter how far I traveled, no matter how hard I tried, they kept the distance between us." He shook his head then, trailing his hand through Oliver's mane of blond streaks. "But it was only a dream, my love. I would never allow anyone, no matter who they are, to lay a hand on you. All by myself, I will keep you safe from any harm that ever dares to threaten our life from here on out. Do you hear me?"