Limerence ❀ Decrypted

file #2 | вℓυє-єуєd dємσn

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blue-eyed demon
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// extracted from: directory #0020391

Once upon a time, there was a boy. He was a child of elegance and nobility, his every move grace, and his every glance piercing. He was a child of fair skin, pale silver-blue hair, and even paler frozen cerulean-glass eyes. People say he wasn't a human child but a changeling, or a statue carved from ice brought to life.

As the child grew older and older, the invisible barrier of ice that blocked others from coming near him only grew taller and taller. Soon, the wall of ice was so thick that he could no longer see through it. No longer see to the hearts of those around him. Only their eyes could be seen. Their fear, anger, and despair-stricken eyes. He hated those eyes. He'd get rid of them so he wouldn't have to see them ever again, be it through murder or deceit. 

But this child wasn't always this way. Once he had no guards. Once warmth had touched his rosy, childish cheeks.

When he was born, this boy was like any other child in nature. Though he possessed a strange beauty normal children did not, given his bloodline, he was just as playful and just as blissful as they were. 

And just like any normal child, he craved the affection of his parents. He tried anything to get them to love him, or even just spare a glance his way. He did everything perfectly: full marks on tests even those ten years his senior had trouble with, music compositions even geniuses would envy, negotiations with his family's business partners that would surpass even his father's, and devised ingenious plans to grow the Knights' wealth and power. 

But no matter what he did, whether it was acting his age to appeal to his mother's motherly instincts, or as an adult to satisfy his father, it was no use.

They wouldn't even look at him.

The boy was foolish for expecting anything else.

"Hey, you!" Was all the blue-eyed boy heard whenever he dared to venture out of his room. His older brothers, older than him by four and six years respectively, despised him. The second brother would always pick on him, whether it be little things like accusing the boy of insulting him or larger things like locking him outside in the cold. The eldest would always look on in twisted amusement or join in from time to time.

As the three grew older, their torment only grew greater. Whenever the boy got higher marks than his brothers, he was beaten and cursed at harder. The boy learned to evade their childish antics—though some proved to be deadly, like let flowerpots fall down from the roof and onto his head—which only made their hatred grow.

Again and again, their parents took his brothers' side. Never his.

Since birth, his parents had disliked him. Hate was a strong word. The boy doubted they hated him. With time, he grew to learn the proper word was "fear." Yes, fear. His blood parents feared him. His brothers were clever and bright, more than capable of taking over the family, but their youngest brother was downright brilliant. This boy was an outlier, a factor that the heads of the Knight family knew they could not control. And control was something everyone with the surname of "Knight" desired.

They tried everything to squash this boy's brilliance. They stopped assigning him tutors. They forbade him from touching a book or electronic. They limited his meals to the minimum for him to survive. After all, child neglect and abuse would look bad on their names.

But the boy was more than they'd bargained for. He was far smarter and stronger than them and soon enough, he seized control of the Knight business, Fortuna Institute, at the age of ten. His "family" was now at his mercy. However, the boy wanted nothing that was created by someone else's hands. He wanted to showcase his full potential after so many years of people telling him to lie low.