Anathema

☾Chapter Nine

A/N - unedited, gif of Cedric to the top.

"Don't do it."

Cedric glances behind him at the voice that burst through the forest atmosphere, his gaze connecting with one he did not so desire to see again.

"Why not?" He growls, his back hurts from crouching down where he is, but he doesn't make a move to stand, he simply centers his gravity and grits his teeth.

"Because," the man gestures to the window above Cedric's head, an amused and cynical smile plastered on his face.

"She won't dig a guy who's creeping on her bedroom window."

Cedric is clenching his hands for a moment, a short uncomfortable chuckle bursts from his chest, like a faltering butterfly, in skips and lands on the forest floor with such a flat tone.

"I-I'm not creeping!" Cedric splutters, but his voice catches on the end of the sentence, his voice breaking in a single small crack.

"Sure," The man lazes against a tree, a mock assured grin on his face as he places his hands behind his head.

Cedric turns back to looking up, his shoulders gathering a tension that was not there before.

"I didn't come with the intention of you know," he nods a head at the window. "Stalking her?" The man interrupts.

"No Archer.." Cedric trails off, giving a quick glance towards Archer's raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I didn't mean to stalk her." The sentence is barely more than a sorry mutter, his black gaze sweeping over the landscaper before his senses pick something up.

Archer hums a response, his eyes drifting closed again, the muscles in his face slowly relaxing.

Cedric sniffs around some more, reaches into his instinct to gather all the information he can on the scent to pin-point it's an odd pungent smell that teases faintly with acrylic and iron.

"So you're back now?" Cedric asks casually, his gaze still focused on the white window, trying to relax his jaw enough to keep it from clamping down and revealing the evident anger.

Again Archer gives a hummed response that acknowledges the visible fatigue his body feels at the moment.

"And why is that?"

Archer groans, throwing his head back before pushing off the tree, an impish grin hides the annoyance in his face.

"I came to see you, little brother, why else?" The impishness has faded into something darker, something more dangerous, predatory even.

"No," Cedric ground out, meeting Archer's gaze. "You did not," Archer gives a snort.

"So what Cedric, you suddenly know my intentions?" Anger has masked most of the emotions on Archer's features but there's still the twitch of something. A flash of achievement, the one that describes a sated instinct.

A sated blood lust.

Cedric stands, his fists bracing against some tree bark as he hoists himself up, eyes catching Archer's, a frown pulling between his eyebrows.

"Yeah? Then who did you kill this time?"

"Hey now little bro, I didn't kill anyone." Archer leans against the tree again, deciding that Cedric wasn't much of a threat to him. "Well," he starts, almost like an afterthought. "I didn't kill anyone, important."

It's obvious, the red stains on Archer's shirt, the smell of iron clinging to his skin, the dark aura that seems to embrace itself around Archer.

He's just murdered someone in cold blood.