Looking Glass » ziam au // ON HOLD

iii

Chapter 3.

The next time he woke, he wasn't in his home, he was in a room that reeked of roses, but not in a good way.

The smell seemed sickeningly sweet, and burned his nose and throat. He sat up, his head spinning as he tried to focus on his surroundings. Everything was unfamiliar.

The cream tiles, with small pink roses printed on them, the pink walls, the large throne-like chair that he was kneeling in front of.

The chair was empty, and above the chair was a portrait of a cat. He rose to his feet shakily, the smell causing him to become slightly dizzy but not dizzy enough to distract him from the sound of boots against tile.

He was shoved to his knees again, as he looked up at the person, finding himself once more looking at the brown eyed male that had broken into his home. Anger coursed through his veins as he glared at the man, not at all focused on the person who seemed to magically appear out of thin air and was now sitting on the throne, a wide smile on his face.

"Stop fighting me, would you? Jeez." The man murmured, holding Zayn down before the man in the throne spoke.

"That's enough now, Liam. What harm could he do to me?" He asked, his voice smooth, with a slight playful undertone to it.

"I could gouge your eyes out with my nails and leave you blinded and bloody on your shit throne." Zayn spoke through his teeth, trying to tug his arms from Liam's grip.

The man in the throne laughed, a loud laugh, as if Zayn had said the funniest joke in the entire world. There was something else in his laugh though, the underlying cold, teasing tone of it, as if he dared the boy to even take a step towards him.

He took this opportunity to observe the male, taking mental notes. His hair was long, a chestnut like color, and his eyes were as bright as the green emeralds Zayn used to see in jewelry shops he passed with his mother. His teeth were perfectly straight, and so white that it almost hurt to look at them. He was continuously grinning, and was dressed in a purple suit, that seemed as soft as velvet, his hand holding a scepter that was gold and encrusted with the most beautiful jewels.

"Who are you?" The man asked Zayn, as the boy looked up at him with clear hate shining in his eyes.

"Zayn, who are you?" He asked bitterly, feeling Liam's grip tighten on his arm causing the smaller boy to wince in pain.

"You don't know who I am," The man asked in disbelief, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the scepter tighter in his hand. "Liam, where did you find this one?"

"Through the looking glass, sir." He replied as the man leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the armrest of the throne.

"And you're sure that he's one?"

"As sure as can be, you've just got to trust me on this one, sir." Liam spoke, a pleading undertone in his voice.

"Very well then, you are to accompany him then, I'm trusting you," The man spoke, his grin returning to his face. "Young man, I'm the Cheshire Cat, and you, are going to do a little something for me."