His Little Heir

Quillan Nathaniel Carter

     Quill made his way into the room, staring at the ground, "Look, before.. before you get mad at me-"

     "Too late. I'm mad, and I'm mad at who ever let you up here too!" Leon walked over to his hunched stance, "Sneaking into Daya's room-"

     "Last time I checked I wasn't a mirror, your 'majesty.'"

     He blinked at his remark. Quill had already raised his eyes level to him in a sudden flame of confidence, a quality that Leon could rarely pen in the same sentence as his distant friend. Where had it come from?

     A distant memory spread a murky fog across his mind. In it, he saw Quill biting back at his lies, screaming in the wake of hot tears for what he thought then to be his job, but now understood to be his mother. He was obviously trying to protect someone, but who?

     "Of course, you were with Daya last night, weren't you?" Leon covered his mouth as he reeled from laughter, "You sure know how to kick me when I'm down. Really, I applaud you."

     Quill gritted his teeth, "I don't feel that way about her! I-I love someone else!"

"And who's that?"

     He held his hands behind his back, and made circles with his feet against the wood floor. Quill seemed to believe he could blissfully hum his way around the question if he stared at his polished reflection long enough. He glanced up at Leon only to find his arms folded and knuckles white; no getting out of this one.

     "Well? I'm waiting, Quill." He tapped his foot.

     Each collison sent another wave of nauseating nervousness up the carpenter's spine. He sighed and looked back up at his superior, throwing his resolve to the wind, "A-Ahmad Thomas."

     Leon scratched his head, the General Ahmad Thomas? No, it couldn't be him. Quill was too fragile, gentle, and most of all, foreign to army life; he wouldn't survive if Ahmad had to leave on business, or worse, got reassigned.

     One more thing nagged at him, "Isn't he straight?"

     "Well, uh, he said I was cute and didn't say no homo, so.." Quill shrugged and heightened his tone, "I guess not?"

     "But-"

    "Just.. just don't tell anyone, okay? That's, um, all I ask."

     Leon glided his hand across his face and shook his head. The facts stared him in the face, but on the other hand, Ahmad could very well be the distraction he so desperately needed. Who knows, maybe they would turn out. He cupped his chin and made a note to keep the two close together, after all, this could be a plus for the both of them.

     "Sure, sure!" Leon waved his hand in dismissal, "Secret's safe with me and all that stuff, but ah, mind telling me about Daya? Is she doing okay?"

     "Oh, y-yeah. Da- Princess Daya! Is doing fine, just shaken up about you and the planting ceremony."

     "The planting ceremony?"

     Quill narrowed his eyes, and waited for a light to spark in Leon's eyes that never came. His eyes swept the floor in confusion and panned over an infinite path of questions. The dots were there, but they weren't connecting.
  
     "You good?" Quill met his empty stare with a furrowed brow.

     Leon jumped at his question, "No. Wait! Um... yes! Yes, I'm good. Great! Never been better!"

     "Are you... are you day drinking again?"

     He violently shook his head; she didn't need to see him like that again. Was she disappointed? Had Leon only dug his hole deeper?

     And what about Daya? In all reality, she did spend her evening with the very man he would've parted oceans to keep her away from. Jealousy twinged in his chest with blinding heat. A blood red picture of her cries muffled by Quill's chest caught him off gaurd, but with a heavy breath, he pushed it aside.