Chapter 17: Suspicions Growing

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow across the hallway as Lucien waited for Blaise to emerge from his sleep. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a disheveled Blaise with tousled hair and slightly swollen eyes. He yawned and gave a small stretch. Lucien smiled; he couldn't help but find Blaise especially cute when he just woke up from sleep. He looked a little less intimidating that way.

As Blaise stumbled into the hallway, rubbing his eyes, Lucien greeted him with a smile. "Good afternoon, Blaise. Sleep well?"

"Don't ask me about sleep, Lucien. I'm not a morning person," he grumbled, his tone laced with irritation.

Lucien raised an eyebrow, taking note of Blaise's grumpy disposition. "I think you mean afternoon person, Blaise. And remember, we have to face your mother today. Let's try to mind our manners, shall we?"

Blaise let out a sigh, his tousled hair falling messily onto his forehead. "I know, I know," he muttered, his impatience evident. "Just don't expect me to be all smiles and sunshine. This whole situation is ridiculous."

Lucien couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. Blaise's initial response wasn't exactly promising, and he silently hoped that his friend could put aside his morning grogginess and approach the conversation with a more composed demeanor.

"Alright then, let's go. Your mother is waiting."

Lucien and Blaise made their way down the staircase, their footsteps thudding along as they went. As they entered the living room, they found Marie seated on the sofa. The sight of Blaise prompted an immediate reaction from her as she sat up straight, setting her newspaper aside.

Marie's eyes bore into Blaise. She wasted no time launching into her verbal assault.

"Back so soon? Did you find some strange man to stay the night with, or were you out in the woods, torturing animals?" Her voice dripped with malice, eager to provoke a reaction.

Blaise clenched his jaw, visibly annoyed. But he didn't react. Instead, he did what Lucien had told him to do.

"Mother, I've come here to apologize for my past behavior."

"Oh, an apology? How generous of you. You seem so sincere about it too," she laughed, voice dripping with sarcasm. It was true; Blaise had his nose raised and his eyes boring into his mother. He was not sincerely sorry and wasn't putting on a good act about it.

Marie continued. "You could at least do a better job pretending. Tell me, how would a mere apology fix everything? How could words ever fix the damage you've caused?" Her patience was wearing thin.

Blaise's nostrils flared, his pride pushing him towards a sharp retort. Yet, before he could unleash his anger, Lucien intervened, nudging Blaise with an elbow. It was a gentle reminder to exercise restraint, to follow the original plan.

Taking a steadying breath, Blaise swallowed his anger.

"I am sorry for the things I've done, especially... that," he offered, his words trailing off as he alluded to a particular incident, known only to him and Marie.

Marie's expression turned anxious as her eyes darted nervously towards Lucien, a flicker of concern shadowing her features. Whatever transpired between Blaise and herself, it was apparently meant to stay a secret.

Blaise continued. "Mother, I promise you, there will be no repetition of those actions. Lucien's father is a good man. Not at all the type to... well," he said, also glancing at Lucien, "Let's just say the incident couldn't happen with someone like him."

"And pray tell, how can I trust you? How can I be certain you won't conjure up some other wretched scheme to shame our family yet again?"

Blaise's annoyance was palpable, the tension coiled tightly within him. Yet, summoning an unexpected calmness, he responded with measured words.

"The only way to truly know is to give me a second chance."

Marie tapped her fingers against the armrest of the sofa, her eyes fixed on Blaise and Lucien, the room filled with an uneasy silence. Finally, Marie spoke, her voice quiet.

"Very well. You may stay in this house."

Blaise and Lucien exchanged a glance, relief washing over them. Lucien's tense shoulders relaxed.

"But there will be conditions," Marie continued, her voice carrying a resolute tone. "Blaise, you are not to leave this house unaccompanied. If you harm the animals, you will be expelled. And any inappropriate behavior towards anyone in this household will result in immediate dismissal."

Blaise's lips curled into a sneer, a flicker of rebellion in his eyes.

"Fine, I agree to your conditions," he said. "You'll hardly even notice I'm here."

Blaise spun on his heel and stormed out of the room without waiting for a response. Marie scowled, watching him walk away.

Well... technically Lucien succeeded at his plan. Although Marie and Blaise both seemed angry, at least Blaise had a place to stay. And that place was at Lucien's . He didn't know why he desired that. But the thought of Blaise escaping his grasp forever was unbearable.

Lucien needed a drink after that conversation. He made his way to the kitchen and reached for the whiskey bottle that was sitting out on the counter, pouring a generous amount into a glass. The amber liquid glimmered under the soft light as he mixed it with a splash of cola.

He then sank into the comfort of a soft chair, weariness seeping into his bones as he savored the taste of his drink. "They'll eventually calm down,"'he muttered to himself, and perhaps settle into a semblance of routine. The love between Blaise and Marie seemed elusive, maybe even non-existent. Maybe Blaise was right, maybe there was no fixing his relationship with his mother. But at least now Blaise could rest, away from the clutches of his uncle.

He must be kept away from Raphael, Lucien acknowledged, his heart aching at the mere thought of what Blaise had hinted at. The sinister manipulation and abuse Blaise suffered at the hands of his uncle was unacceptable. Lucien shuddered, vowing to protect him from any further harm.

What troubled Lucien even more was Blaise's seemingly oblivious acceptance of his relationship with Raphael. Did he not see the problem with it? Lucien pondered, rubbing his forehead. It disturbed him to witness the psychological chains that bound Blaise, a distorted perception of what constituted a healthy relationship. He knew that untangling such deeply ingrained beliefs would be a daunting task. Especially since Blaise was a vampire, albeit not a full one.

And then, a sudden thought flashed within Lucien's mind. Since Blaise wasn't a full vampire, perhaps there was a way to reverse it. A way to turn him into a human again. The notion of finding a solution, of freeing Blaise from the curse that plagued him, was an intriguing one to say the least. It would fix a lot of Blaise's problems. He was aware of his limited knowledge on the subject, gleaned solely from books and hearsay. "Research," he resolved, "I'll have to find out everything I can about vampires to uncover any shred of information that could undo this curse."

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted as his father entered the room.

Lucien rose from the chair, their eyes meeting briefly before his father spoke.

"Lucien, my boy, how are you this evening?" his father greeted, his voice warm.

"I'm well, Father. And yourself?"

His father nodded. "Very well. I wanted to thank you for handling the situation with Blaise. It seems you've managed to bring some semblance of peace to our household."

Lucien's father settled himself into a nearby armchair, his gaze fixed on Lucien. There was a momentary silence before his father spoke.

"You know, Lucien, I've noticed that Blaise seems to be going through some rough times. It's more than just teenage rebellion, isn't it?" his father remarked.

Lucien nodded, feeling a flicker of unease. "I think he has a lot going on in his life. He really needed to be back here, even if he and Marie don't get along."

His father leaned forward, his expression filled with genuine concern. "And what about you, my son? How are you coping with all of this? Is it really okay for you to be around... such a person?"

Lucien hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. His father might have picked up on Lucien's desire for Blaise. That wouldn't be good. Taking a deep breath, he decided to tread carefully, choosing his words with utmost caution.

"I... I can sympathize with Blaise," Lucien admitted. "In the past, as you know, I've wrestled with my own struggles of a similar nature. It gives me a unique perspective on what he might be going through, and maybe how he can change."

"Ah, I see." His father's gaze was full of discomfort. "I commend your noble intentions, Lucien. You're being a good stepbrother, looking out for him. However, I must advise you to be cautious and mindful of your own reputation."

"Yes, Father. I'll be careful."

The bitterness welled up within Lucien, though he fought to keep it contained. The silent longing he harbored pressed upon his chest.