What Makes a Monster

♱Forty-One♱

There's a packed bag hidden beneath my bed that no one knows about save for me. Who knew an item as simple as a bag could cause such crushing guilt.

Higra's words ring in my ears the following morning. I wish not to see her. Already the idea of it puts me on edge, makes me continue to consider what actions I should take. But there is still work to be done no matter how troubled the current situation is, as I'm reminded when I enter the servant's lounge.

"Wallie, you'll be attending to Lord Makai today," says Layne.

"What? W-Why?"

"I've been asked to escort the landscapers in your place." Layne pats my shoulder. "Careful today, Wallie. He's in a foul mood."

Before I can argue, Higra is already calling for Layne. He's gone in a flash, seeming almost thrilled at being relieved of his usual duties. How nice for him because I'm dreading this.

When entering the foyer, I catch a glimpse of Liam through the windows. Dare I say it, he appears a bit disappointed to find Layne greeting him rather than me. Suppose I expected to see him today too, even if Soran said yesterday that I wouldn't be.

My brow furrows when I turn to the stairs. They seem almost dreadful in nature, looming, somehow extending into eternity. I know why, it's that guilt continuing to gnaw at my gut. Guilt over my indecisiveness. As I ascend the stairs, I question my future plans. After what Higra said, do I risk staying? Do I risk leaving? There is a chance that, should I leave and Soran not react then I may be spared whatever horrors Prince Baylor has planned. There is also a chance that he will only act sooner should Soran act negatively to my sudden disappearance.

This is difficult. Far more difficult than I suspected, although I never expected to find myself in a situation such as this.

A maid passes me by, and suddenly I'm aware of her; of her eyes and movements, of everyone's movements. The quiet opening of a door down the hall, whispers downstairs and two butlers dusting the paintings in the halls, there are so many eyes everywhere. At all times. The hair on the back of my neck grows stiff. My limbs tingle and toes curl. Suddenly, the world feels small, constricted to the point that my chest tightens. Anyone can be watching at any moment, my every move is being examined, including now.

I take a deep and unsteady breath. I don't know what to do. The door to Soran's office feels heavier, but I put on a smile anyways when I step inside.

Soran sits at his desk, head down even after hearing my entrance. One of the terrace doors is open, letting in a comforting breeze from the abnormally warm day. The curtains are brushed back so light filters in to illuminate Soran's figure at the desk. His hair shines and eyes flash a brilliant red when he happens to turn his head just so. I'm not acknowledged until I stand before his desk, hands behind my back.

"I've come to relieve Layne of his duties. Are you in need of anything, Your Grace?"

"Your studies, how have they been going?" asks Soran, which actually makes me smile, authentically at least. When Soran raises his gaze, there's something about the way he looks at me that makes me short of breath. Or maybe it's simply because he's looking at me.

Either way, I'm beaming when I answer, "Quite well! I'm sure I can be of assistance if you need anything."

"I need you to separate these based on departments." Soran gestures to a stack of papers on the side of his desk. When I walk over, he points out the five departments so I immediately recognize the words then we get to work quietly with me sitting on the couch, using the coffee table to separate. I'm tempted to ask how they were bunched together since I imagine the departments at any of his companies send these in correctly, but I rather not risk it. Layne said Soran...I'm still calling him Soran. Damn, whatever, it's only in my head!

Anyways, Layne said Soran was in a bad mood so I would rather be safe than sorry. I work quietly but not necessarily well. I'm very aware of Soran's presence. I spot him in my peripheral vision from time to time. The sound of his pen scratching across paper followed by an occasional sigh or huff. All so simple yet my entire body is shivering.

Sudden laughter filters in through the terrace door. Soran's brow furrows in annoyance so I'm quick to stand.

"I'll close the door so you can concentrate, My Lord."

When I get to said door, I find Layne and Liam standing out in the garden. Liam happens to look up in time to see me, waving his hand enthusiastically. I barely catch him shouting the first syllable of my name before I'm brushed aside when Soran swiftly shuts the door.

"I thought you were going to close the door?" he grunts, returning to his desk immediately afterwards.

"My apologies, I happened to see Liam and Layne outside. I wished to say hello." And honestly, I hesitated because I wondered why Soran switched me with Layne. I want to know why I'm here when it's clear we've been avoiding each other. I want to know a lot of things that I don't know if I'll get the answers even when I dare to ask, "Why was I switched with Layne, Your Grace?"

"Because I said so," answers Soran without so much as a hint of consideration. He's glaring at me, but it doesn't hold the same fire it does for others. The fact that I notice that now excites and concerns me.

"That's not a reason."

"Isn't it?" Soran looks away, writing more but his movements are slower as he speaks. "Why? Did you want to see Liam again?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind? He's a nice guy, and I think he'd like for me to escort him as well."

Soran snorts. "I'm sure he would have."

That sounded like a very loaded response. One that has me swiftly stepping forward to argue, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Only there is no arguing further than that.

Soran pushes his chair back, preparing for an argument, just as I reach his side. The arm of the chair hits the outside of my knee, successfully knocking me off balance. I'm falling and instinct says to reach out to steady myself, so I do. One hand grips the back of Soran's chair with my wrist holding my weight against the back while the other grasps the opposite arm, successfully steadying me. I actually laugh, surprised with my own ability to not smash my face against Soran's desk, or the floor. However, that victory is short lived upon realizing I sure as hell did not save myself.

My cheeks are blazing hot when I look up to find that the angle of Soran's chair has resulted in me leaning over him. The space between us is so little that I can count the shades of red in his eyes. I don't know if I hear myself or Soran swallowing the lump in his throat, maybe it's the both of us because his eyes are as wide as my own. And there it is again; that light shade of pink beneath Sorans' eyes.

Why haven't I moved? I don't know. I'm not really thinking about that, especially when Soran's cool fingers wrap around my wrist. He must feel my pulse against his thumb that now rests hesitantly on my arm. Damn, I feel my own pulse in my head, in the tip of my toes to the pit of my stomach.

I don't think I'm breathing. I don't know if he is either. In the back of my mind there's a voice saying to pull away but that's all it is; a voice that is heard but not yielded.

One of us moves slightly forward; I honestly can't say who. Our noses brush. I hear a soft intake of his breath, even feel it against my lips. My eyes flutter closed, anticipating what's to come.

Then it's over.

Soran looks away, pressing a hand to my chest to force me to step back.

♱♱♱

Hello, thy name is slow burn, but who knows, maybe this will lead to a kiss soon ;D (Me, I know haha) Jealous Soran is a moody cutie, isn't he? ^^ Oh, and if anyone is interested, I have a YouTube channel. It's been dead lately but I'm going to try posting more videos! My username is Twoony or you can use the external link that I left. It'll take you to my latest video where I play The Sims 4 as Aron and Quinton lol