𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞

TWO:A Stranger In The Night.

CHAPTER TWO:A STRANGER IN THE NIGHT.

Following the noise wasn't that hard given the fact that it came with reckless abandon like it was a stray animal in the cottage. Duncan lowered his weapon, giving up on his search for it seemed noone was in the cottage except them.

There was a screech on the outside door, low but sharp enough for him to hear. Trailing the noise one more time, he let the Polo stick he'd found behind a door lead the way to outside. Where he was surprised to find a stranger who looked so out of place standing in the middle of his family's garden.

Pale skin stark and glowing against the screaming black of the night was a boy who looked about his age give or take a year that he was sure he'd never seen before. In fact the strange boy looked so out of place decked out in a silky red collared shirt, a slim waistcoat with a tail and tan breaches neatly tucked into white knee high socks and shiny leather dress shoes. The whole ensemble made for a fine Halloween costume of a forgotten time of regency in the eighteenth century.

An era his history teacher had threatened his class with a test come next Friday. Duncan almost groaned at the memory of school and his rate of inadequate studying.

Wind ruffled the leaves with a new wave of coolness and from the distance, he heard crows caw twice. Before he held the polo stick tighter and held it up over his left shoulder slowly walking towards the dark haired stranger. As though he was advancing towards dangerous prey. "Hey!" Duncan called.

The stranger looked too absorbed in nature he didn't even flinch as he continued to hold his face up. To face the moon, eyes closed visibly taking in the cool breeze of the night.

"Hey!" Duncan yelled from across the moonlit garden.

No response.

"Ayo!" he tried again, starting to get annoyed with the foreign sense of fear growing inside of him.

Should anything happen to them, noone knew of their whereabouts. His family wouldn't certainly think of searching the cottage for he was not allowed to use it in the first place.

He aimed the stick higher above his head and shoulders which seemed to draw the stranger's unfazed attention. The stranger merely looked at him with narrowed cold blue eyes and a pale face with the perfect bone structure under its pristinely constructed attractive features. Handsomely complimented by long hair so dark it matched the midnight and was held together by a neatly tied red ribbon at the back of his head. 

"This is private property, I could get you arrested, who're you?" Duncan almost cried as he pointed the stick at the stranger who was now walking toward him. One foot in front of the other, hands folded behind his back. The only way Duncan could describe the stranger's walk was gentlemen but in a bazillion centuries ago way. "Hey! Stay there don't come near me!!" Duncan kept jutting the polo stick in his hands as he pointed it to the strange boy, a bit dramatic sure, but he was just in fear.

The stranger reached him, coming in closer into his personal space as if something was making him move. The stranger lowered the stick and then tentatively ran his freezing knuckles down Duncan's cheek and bare neck. "You are real." He said in a misty whisper tone almost as if he was speaking to himself. Eyes so blue it was as if they were glowing and spearing right into the dark of the night as he stared back up at the moon. "Tell me what year is it??"

Duncan held his breath at the cold feel of the stranger's knuckles on him. He also couldn't help the heat that rose to his cheeks suddenly realizing he was shirtless from his earlier makeout session with Peyton.

The stranger pulled his hands away and fixed them in his pockets, face lifting to fully face the bright moon. "The older the moon the brighter it shines." he said, a smile working on his rosy lips. "The year is 1915 is it not?"