Chapter Ten: Exercise

Waylen had only ever read about sword fights, never in his life had he ever thought about participating in one. The sword in his left hand felt unreasonably heavy to be swinging around with one hand, not that it showed. After this, he didn't care how made the estate got he's taking both a deep shower. No way in hell will he be caught walking around covered in sweat and mysterious grime. 

In every way Xavier had the upper hand. Knowing that, Waylen felt oddly calm. If he ever plans on murdering Xavier, he'll have to learn how to play with weapon sooner or later. Reasoning, that would certainly give his twin sister an aneurism. He imagined her long silky blonde hair and icy blue eyes that fidget in the sunlight. If he died here, would Chess care?

With hesitation in his bones Waylen made the first strike. He swung the sword aggressively at his left shoulder. Clearly the wrong thing to do, seeing how Xavier quickly jumped back to further trying to take advantage of the situation he created. If he had any shot of winning, Waylen had to think outside the conventional box. Something he had only learned to do yesterday. In a house clearly dominated by magic, normal rationality is no longer applicable. Therefore, he can make the justification to do things otherwise immoral. 

An interesting thought flashed across his mind, to simply fluster Xavier into submission. Waylen smiles, completely unaware as to how well he's holding his own. Though the match looked more like a game of tag then a sword fight. 

Waylen chases Xavier around the bloodied courtyard idiotically, swinging the sword at his back side. Each movement extremely purposeful while looking careless. Even while acting like a crazed lunatic, Waylen still managed to avoid the piles of humans scattered around. 

Xavier no longer cared how stupid he looked, but the stamina the amnesiac carried. At this rate he'll actually die from this stupidity. 

The maids watch the young man in blue, thoroughly amazed how fluid he moved for extended periods of time. Though it made them question beyond their pay grade. 

"Fuck this shit." Xavier curses, making sure to show off his "good" side. Tripping the two of them, Waylen falling directly onto the front side of his body. The sword fell in the grass just out of reaching distance, so he couldn't pick it up and stab him to death. 

Waylen's almond eyes flicker, his breathing hard and arms weak. His pretty face quietly nuzzled in Xavier's chest. 

Xavier wraps his arms around Waylen's back, preventing him from snagging those particularly sharp pair of scissors, firmly holding him in place. 

Waylen opens his mouth slightly, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. An image now completely ingrained into his greedy head. Xavier needs this man off of him but doesn't have the strength. If it had been someone other than the amnesiac would anything have been different? He didn't dare question further. 

***

Birthday preparations, Waylen felt absolutely done for the day. He felt disgusting, reeked of sweat and could have sworn the courtyard contaminated him. Not to mention, he's one hundred percent certain Xavier's gay. Holding him all snuggly like that. The whole thing is strange, and quite incomprehensible. 

In the span of three hours, he's felt more emotion that he has in his entire life, only an astounding 90% being negative. Since the estate gave no proper directions regarding birthday preparations Waylen went back to ignoring the itinerary, fixing himself a hot bath. 

This time the clocks did not harass him. They let him repeatedly wash his body till he decided he's clean. No more exercise, it brought nothing but a pain. Even if for the most part he had fun. One of these days he'll successfully kill him, or at the very least keep him alive at his feet, groveling.

 ***

The caretaker looks Xavier dead in the eyes, reflecting on the scene he joyfully witnessed earlier. 

"Waylen Noel is technically a minor." The caretaker's eyes scream in disapproval, urging Xavier to throw the biggest fit in his life. 

One, the two of them are the same age. Two it wasn't as if they were doing anything scandalous. It's not like he asked to hold him like a girl or something. Three he wanted him dead, not as a boyfriend. The caretaker is the last person who should be lecturing him on morality. 

Even if he didn't want to kill Mr. Noel, the little amnesiac has far more to worry about. Right now, the only one he's capable of caring about is that sister. Chess this Chess that. Honestly, he should kill her first. Make Waylen go crazy, commit acts far below human morality. Till he never thinks of leaving this place. Let him be confined forever, begging desperately admitting he's wrong. Until then, the color filled estate will be died an ugly shade of red. From the walls to the puddles in the rain. All under HIS command. Nobody will escape this hell, not if Xavier has any say in it at least. 

The caretaker stares at the red in Xavier's eyes, a living contradiction to the core of sour thoughts in his brain. Preferably, he'd like to remain at the end of all this. So, the caretaker keeps his mouth firmly shut turning his attention back to the halls of blue. Waylen got off schedule again. 

For the first time, Johnthan Riggs wasn't sure if he'd succeed or if things are even going his way at all. How long will everything remain in his control? Is the uncontrollable variable Waylen Noel or is it secretly Xavier. If he was just working with W.S. would this all be easier? 

No, if W.S. was truly in the picture then Xavier would really be off committing scandalous acts without a care in the world. The caretaker sighs, before deciding to ultimately fix up the mess regarding the girl in yellow. Tonight is going to be a long night.