Chapter 13 Stunt
Xavier lifts his heavy head above the fluffy red pillow, towards the window facing the courtyard. To which he was delighted an excellent sight to behold. A sight so exciting, he couldn't stop himself from checking back a multitude of times to see whether it is true.
The amnesiac sat at the head of the table, with a charming smile so completely out of character the air seemed all the more colder. Everything about it indicating just how much this god-damned estate has punished him. The grass gave off an oddly green hue beneath the candlelight. The air around secretes a peaceful pine smell overpowering the odor from rotting corpses strewn into bite sized pieces. If it weren't for the game at work, the whole estate would just be in an endless loop of disparity. Now, everything looks oddly inviting. Like the perfect lure for unsuspecting prey. If only he had possessed that same amount of unconditional favoritism, then nobody would be able to oppose him, except for W.S. himself.
If the String family ever decides to intervene, a being will only meet one of two fates, a horrid death or an eternity in hell. Their toxic souls holding up these very walls, unable to transition away from their former glory. Never dead, just somewhat contained from the bounds of the living.
"Little Xavier, why do you sit here alone?" A shrill, child-like voice asks innocently through the cracks of the walls.
Helplessly standing up, Xavier descends the stairs of red with his head held high and his eyes open wide. Nothing ever good happens when conversing with the dead. Especially when said dead isn't too particularly fond of him at the moment. Reminding himself, all of this will hold substantial worth in the near future.
"How about fuck you?" Xavier goes back and retorts, his ruby eyes radiating with a smile so wide it became impossible to decipher. Fuck it all. He is the current leader of red, so as of now he's untouchable.
The opposite end of the table no longer empty, the dumb act drops leaving only the expressionless young man from before.
Should I ask? No, I won't ask to why I was left alone. It's not as if he's been here very long anyway. No bonds have been fostered between him and the rest of the residents. Except for the murderous one between him and the flamboyant gay with a thick ass permanently engraved into his unfortunate mind. With the accompanying sensations drilled into his unforgiving body. The way he smiled and held him tightly. The way his heart seemed to be on the verge of collapse. The way he seemed to be fighting something, despite giving in at the exact same time.
"Like I said before Waylen, enjoy the show this place has bestowed upon you." The hypnotizing voice sings again, latching on firmly to his manipulated soul.
Overcome with the fruits of temptation, Waylen shoves the glass of human blood off the table. Watching its contents shatter everywhere over his covered foot, staining the shoe a dirty red. Glass shards prickling up against his previously solid blue socks.
"Xa-vi-er, I am going to kill you." He perfunctory proclaims, bringing his thick fingers to his pretty pink lips. Shocking all of the yellow servants into a non-vocal submission.
"Cause that's what your body wants." He spouts teasingly, a red color accompanying his cheeks.
If Waylen had access to a gun, he would have pulled the trigger then and there. Instead chucking a small dagger from his pocket with creepily. precise accuracy. But Xavier didn't care. Frankly he never has and never will. Catching it firmly between his fingers.
"No, that's what you want." He says calmy, eying down his body with a hint of repulsion.
Rising from his chair, Xavier approaches the amnesiac. Everything in his body screaming at him to stop. That this is a mistake. Not reaching for his pretty throat, but bringing his body close to his. His bare chest rubbing up against his back. Xavier's fingers reaching inside Waylen's thick, light brown hair pulling at it.
"Are you sure?" He whispers inside his sensitive ears, nibbling on it slightly. The gaze of the caretaker hounding him in disapproval.
Nobody moves. Everything stays just as it is. The estate didn't commit mass genocide, to Xavier's dismay. Though Waylen still has potential too. Then just maybe will the caretaker end up like the child in the walls.
"Yes." He answers, reaching back towards Xavier's neck gripping it tightly. Not enough to restrict his airways, but strong enough to convey the message to the courtyard.
In this situation he didn't know how to react. Never in his life has he ever experienced anything like this, especially for a person he met yesterday. Xavier's lips close enough to kiss him, he thought he might just do it. The way he grabbed his hair seemed too real too quickly. Yet the feeling not foreign enough for his body to reject it. No how much his heart pounded, nothing around him happened. Nobody came to save him. Xavier stopped, as if waiting for his expressed permission to continue making his bizarre statement.
That's right. A statement. This is nothing more than a statement, there is no way in hell there's other feelings besides that. He just wants to prove a point to this place. To establish authority over these shaken women.
Turning his head to face his, Waylen analyzes Xavier's perfectly sculpted features. His cheeks bright red, and his eyes rich in depth giving off a strong emotional intensity uncommon even among couples.
Finally noticing the caretaker's angry, plane face. Waylen tightens the grip around Xavier's neck, staring into ruby eyes before aggressively kissing him. Waylen's eyes linger on the now ghost of a caretaker, before shifting entirely onto Xavier as he runs the scenario. Making sure to shove his tongue into Waylen's mouth without too much thought, as if he's done this millions of times.
Is it only a stunt?