The king's killer.

Fire.

It was a simple winter's night. By simple, there was a blizzard outside, leaving Xander and I stuck inside. Xander was by the fireplace attempting to light it and I was watching him fail. He had been at it for two hours ever since the fire had gone out. It was funny because he would throw the match into the fire place, wait for a few seconds, and groan. I chuckled from my spot, causing him to look at me. I stood quietly and made my way over to the fire place. I took the matches quietly and started the fire.

"Stop being scared of the fire." I smiled as the warmth spread quickly.

"I'm not scared of the fire." Xander huffed.

"Right." I rolled my eyes.

I sat back on the couch quietly and watched the flames. Xander sat in his place just watching the fire annoyingly. I smiled softly at how weird our relationship was. He was thought to be emotionless, murderous, and scary but he wasn't. He was the 'emotionless killer while I the abused boy who he protects.

"What did your dad do when you lived with him?" I looked at Xander.

"He was the town drunk." I sighed, I never talked about him. "He hated religion and religious people. He also hated anyone different from him. That being said, he hated me with a passion. Understandable though, he blamed me for my mother's death. I never really cared though, I just wanted to survive."

"What happened to your mother?"

"She died giving birth to me is what I'm told. I wonder though if it was my father who killed her. I never met her but the people in my town told me stories of her. She was amazing."

Xander nodded. It was silent between us now. I was focused on the fire that raged like my mind.

How could I talk about my past without seeming like a victim? Am I ready to really talk about it? Get into its worser fact? Open myself up completely? I've lived with Xander for six years and I've never felt danger. He kept me safe and brought me to freedom. I had a good life, away from that God awful town and my father, may he rest in hell. I trusted Xander.

I took a deep breath.

"My father, drunk very often, was a very physical man." I bit my lip. "He thought everything could be solve by fighting, in the town, a bar, his house. That being said, he wanted to teach me "obedience" through pain. Everytime I did something he didn't like, he would punish me in his way, meaning he'd either hit me with a belt or with his fist. Growing up, all I really knew was don't do this, don't do that unless I want to get hurt. Dad had rules to follow that he made specifically for me. The main one being don't talk about mom. Break any rule resulted in getting beat, it was horrible." I could tell Xander was pissed at my dad. "At nights I prayed for his alcoholism to finally kill him but you came. I heard noise from downstairs so I went to check and there you were, fighting with my dad. Was he your target?"

"He was but I remember seeing you. Alex, you were covered in bruises and cuts! I couldn't just stand by idly!"

"I'm kinda glad you didn't. Dad deserved to die alone and thank you for taking me away."

Xander looked surprised at my words but I didn't care. I meant the words I said. I hated my father but I cared for Xander. After what seemed like forever I stood and went to the kitchen. I put the kettle on for tea and waited. My tea would be simple green tea with a hint of honey while Xander would be gray with milk and three cubes of sugar. Once the teas were done, I joined Xander back in the living room. He took his tea and drink silently. I let the tea warm my fingers as I sipped.

"Alex?" He paused, gripping his cup like it tethered him to the earth. "I find you interesting. You never let someone, not even the king, tell you what to do. You never act or play a victim card even though you have reason. You always find a way to sound like you're okay even though you were broken. You've healed despite the challenges you faced. You are amazing."

I watched Xander's expression. He always let his gaurd down around me. He trusted me despite the fact I didn't trust myself. Looking at him, I didn't see a man who was uncaring or bold or even scary. I saw a man who, like myself, had a hard past and chose to live rather than survive. For me, I had chosen to survive rather than live.

"Xander, I have found myself in a dilemma." I watched the hope in the man's eyes disappear. "On one hand, I trust you and your words beyond what would be considered healthy. On the other, I fear for myself because of this trust. I can't begin to describe the odd mixture of emotions I feel around you. I would trust no one else with my past but you."

Xander smiled brightly at my words as he got closer. He pulled me into a hug that I enjoyed. We sat in silence and watched fire roar.