The Perfect Mistake (Larry Stylinson)

23. There Are Plans to Be Made, Tests to Be Taken

~Unknown's Point of View~ (ooooh)

"Lewi, could you stop that already? You're annoying the hell out of me." I glared at the blonde as I swiftly shifted in my seat, resting my interlocked hands atop the newly placed table in front of me. Lewi looked up from where he had been caressing said table, his light green eyes unblinking as they settled on me.

"That's the point," He muttered, resuming his previous actions once more. "But it's also really smooth; kind of like Matthew's chair."

Matthew, who had been texting silently, perked up at the mention of his name. He chuckled airily, shaking his head back and forth. "Nothing compares to this beauty," He remarked, patting the arm affectionately. "The table is lovely though."

"It's a fuckin' table. Ain't nothin' special about a rectangular slab of wood," Elijah spoke up with a scowl, Derby accent thick.

I rolled my eyes, annoyance rapidly increasing with each wasted second. It hadn't even been five minutes and already I was fed up with my brothers. As of now, I couldn't recall exactly why I had chosen these three to be stuck with for my never-ending life. I could, actually, but I opted not to.

The first person I asked to join me had been Matthew, who was sat to my right in his favorite wooden chair. I can clearly remember when the two of us had first moved into this castle, and how he had taken months to carefully carve the chair out of walnut, then proceeded to hand carve beautiful images into the back. It was refreshing to see that, even after all of these years, it was still his most prized possession. Matthew had always been the most quiet out of us four, too lost in thoughts that were quickly scribbled down into a worn leather bound journal, and when he did speak it was always softly. He scarcely ever raised his voice, even if he was angry, but he still held that air of authority and effortlessly earned respect. He had slightly long, all over the place brown curls (he had a habit of running his fingers through his hair, so even if he styled it, it always ended up a mess within seconds), and he hadn't shaved for a while, but it suited his pale features well. He was also quite muscular, which somehow complimented his seemingly constant brooding personality perfectly. He was easily the smartest of the group, but only by a minuscule margin when compared to me.

The second to come along was Lewi, who was sat to my left, occupying the black and silver speckled marble seat. He got on my nerves more often than not, but his enthusiasm was a constant. He had a flare for creating music, whether it be on a guitar, drums, or more old fashioned instruments, and, though he preferred to play the repulsive current stuff, I've managed to coerce him into playing classical pieces for me on more than one occasion. He also liked to crack jokes, and they were well amusing, but I'd never admit that aloud. If you didn't know him then he'd probably appear to be very intimidating, what with his tall stature, broad shoulders, and large quantity of tattoos, but since I was all too acquainted with the fool I knew better. He had short blonde hair that was usually hidden underneath various caps, slightly tanned skin, and his face was more or less always cleanly shaven. Again, he was an idiot, but I'd grown fond of him.

Lastly came Elijah, who was currently slouched in the deep purple Victorian chair to Lewi's left. Now, he was the polar opposite of Matthew. You always heard him before you saw him, he never thought before he spoke (preferring to let his actions do the talking), and describing his temper as extremely violent was putting it gently. He didn't very much care for anything, his appearance second on the list of fucks he couldn't give (people holding the first spot), so he put no effort into styling his light brown hair, and if he felt like dressing decently then he would; if he didn't feel like bothering, he wouldn't. He did have a few tattoos on his upper right arm, but they weren't grand or anything like Lewi's. Of course he still looked put together, though. Anything less wasn't allowed. He wasn't exactly the tallest, but the rage that filtered through those eyes hardly ever wavered, making him just as intimidating if not even more. In a way, he was my favorite.