The king's killer.

Truth.

The weather annoyed me. After the blizzard a few weeks ago, it rain and rained. The rain wouldn't stop. I sat in the window, watched the dreaded rain fall. Xander was out of a quest for the king and would be gone for the next month. I was bored as hell. I moved away from the window and walked around the house. Always clean, always organized, always lit, always quiet.

I walked down into the basement, something I didn't go into very often, and looked around. Xander stored broken weapons, torn clothes, and cracked stuff down here. If it required repair it went down here. I could repair it but Xander asked me not too. I moved around the wretched place into the only room with a door down there. It was a cell. It's was small, obviously made to make you feel claustrophobic, and blank. You were supposed to go mad in here. I didn't question why it was here, I just left. I knew I should question these things but I didn't. Xander had his secrets, I had mine. I sat on the steps of the basement and looked around.

It was dark, yes. It was cold, yes. It was damp, yes. It was dreary, yes. It was like my mind. Dark with a flickering light that shows hope and love. I questioned myself.

I loved him, I couldn't deny that. I noticed these feelings when I was 14. I didn't think of him as a brother or father or friend. I loved him. He took me from a horrible place and brought me to safety. He could have killed my father and been done with it, left me to rot on my own, but he stopped in the middle of a fight to scoop me up and rescue me. I knew I loved him but I can't tell him. I fear rejection, I know that.

Besides, I can't compare to the other person trying to win his heart. I'm just a random guy in comparison to the king. I know he wants Xander. Xander deserves to be happy and taken care of. Not focused on some random kid that was abused. I wasn't worth his time but he always made time for me.

This was my truth.