f o u r t e e n
"Nemo mortalium omnibus horis sapit." - Pliny the Elder
MUDDY COLDNESS
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When Lucien woke up the next day, he woke up in a piss-poor mood-that is, not a very good one. Firstly, he woke up late, which was unusual for Lucien as he never woke up late. Secondly, his father, Briar, was arriving for lunch at the Academy-Lucien was to sit with him in some meeting room. Then, his Father had demanded in his letter that Lucien show him around the school for a tour.
Lucien rolled his eyes as he strolled through the empty corridors, as everyone else was in the Dining Hall eating lunch. He thought it was ridiculous, actually. Briar Harding knew this school inside and out; he'd attended it when he was younger.
He rubbed his tired eyes as he rounded a corner. Lucien hadn't been able to sleep much, not after that little study session with William. It was weird, hanging out with him like that-even if it was just for school.
He'd spent the whole night thinking of the time he'd spent with William, replaying every little moment over and over in his mind: William's grin, his teasing laugh, and when he'd slid down the wall to share his book, slightly bumping into his shoulder.
Yes, Lucien Harding had thought about that specific moment a lot. It gave him butterflies simply thinking of it. Those butterflies were happy little things, fluttering around in his stomach, anticipating God knew what. But the butterflies in his stomach now, those were made of iron, clawing and thrashing around his stomach.
Lucien was nervous. He wished he could simply skip the rest of this day. Alas, he was not a superhero and he had no powers to manipulate time. He was stuck with his father for the rest of the day.
Lucky him.
When he stepped into the meeting room the letter his father wrote to him had demanded, he was met with a small, but comfortable room. A round oak table sat in the center, two large windows at the back of the room overlooking the field at the back of the school, where the sports teams practiced.
A group of boys in nothing but t-shirts and sweatpants were playing football despite the colder weather. Lucien watched helplessly as one boy kicked the ball into the net with ease. He didn't like sports much-he'd never been very good at them-but he'd give anything to be out there with them instead of in here.
"You're late."
Lucien let his eyes drift to his father's. "My apologies, father."
"Your reasoning?" Briar frowned, furrowing his eyebrows and lifting his chin slightly. "How rude of you, son."
"I was finishing up my prefect duties," he said, lying straight through his teeth. "Lost track of time."
"Don't let it happen again."
Lucien clenched his fists, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course. I'll be more careful next time."
Briar smiled at him. It was a cold, calculating smile, not the smile one would expect from their own father. Lucien had grown used to it.
He offered the same cold, fox-like smile back.
"Would you like to take a seat?" Briar asked, as if Lucien actually had a choice in the matter. "The food's getting cold from all the time spent in this room waiting." Another jab. "Anyways, son, I hope you've learnt quite a few things since my last visit."
YOU ARE READING
He Bleeds Flame ✔️
Romance(bxb) After a year of surviving an all boys boarding school, William Brown thought he had finally navigated the ups and downs that the rich, private school had to offer. He'd even managed to make a few friends, as well as a rightful enemy. Lucien Ha...
