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Dark-Hair fixated his gaze on his feet, playing with his toenails. They were longer—and a bit dirty. Not to the point of being disgusting—but still, dirty. Now that he thought of it, he never got the chance to take a bath after he arrived here—not that he bathed in luxury before. But at least, he used to bathe once in a few days. When was the last time he took a bath? He must had smelled like shit.

The door to his room creaked open, drawing his curiosity to find who was behind the door. Elliot, unsurprisingly. He had a weird mixture of embarrassment and annoyance plastered on his face. Could not help it, Dark-Hair’s facial muscle contorted into a smile.

And suddenly he forgot about wanting to bathe.

“Hey,” surprisingly, Dark-Hair was the first to greet with a mocking smile.

Elliot was too annoyed to notice the big detail of Dark-Hair greeting him first as though they had known each other forever, even though today was the first time Elliot witnessed Dark-Hair talking to him.

Elliot took the stool he used to use, propping himself on top of it. His eyes met Dark-Hair’s—aquamarine met amber. He had seen Dark-Hair’s fire orbs a few times, but they looked tame now—endearing, even.

Elliot let out a long sigh, hiding his face with his palms. “This is so embarrassing,” he said.

Playing innocent, Dark-Hair cocked his head. “What is?” he asked in mocking innocence. Actually, never mind. This boy was annoying.

Elliot ruffled his honey mane in frustration, before noticing the obvious the obvious. “But now you’re talking, so it’s still my win,” he pointed out, grinning cheekily.

Now that Elliot said it, Dark-Hair realized he talked to him. Dark-Hair’s face blushed in embarrassment. Where was his resolution of not talking to Elliot? He covered his mouth and averted his gaze away.

Now it was Elliot’s turn to be entertained. He chuckled, scooting closer to Dark-Hair. “What are you so embarrassed about?” he returned the question with playful tone. He grabbed Dark-Hair’s shoulder, turning the boy to face him. Dark-Hair’s face was tinted in maroon, Elliot could not suppress his laughter.

Dark-Hair clicked his tongue. “Really,” he scoffed. “Shut up. I’m embarrassed.”

Elliot tried to control his laughter. “Why are you embarrassed, now?” he chortled. “It’s fine, it’s fine! Now talk to me.”

Dark-Hair laid down on his bed, exhaling. “I don’t want to—heck, I promised myself I won’t.”

“But you did,” Elliot replied smugly, as though winning lottery. “And now you must talk to me a lot more.”

Dark-Hair glared at Elliot defensively. “Under what obligation must I talk to you?” he hissed.

Elliot maintained the cheeky grin, saying, “I like your voice,” and got Dark-Hair blushing again.

Dark-Hair covered his face with his palms. “You’re one embarrassing guy.”

Elliot replied with a warm smile. He made his way to sit down on the edge of the bed, near Dark-Hair’s head. He brought his hand and touched Dark-Hair’s hair lightly, playing with the strands of midnight gently. Dark-Hair took his hands off his face, looking at Elliot.

Surprisingly, he felt content. The distance was narrow, and he felt secure. It was a strange feeling. He should have killed the young master, but now the supposed-to-be-dead young master brushed his hair ever so defenselessly. Had the thought of Dark-Hair having a secret weapon never crossed his mind? To be fair, though, the young master’s touches was comfortable and not invasive. Hence, he did not want the moment to end.

As though letting his guard down, Dark-Hair’s eyes flickered close. “I can’t talk about myself the way you do,” he murmured quietly.

Elliot let out a hum in response, letting Dark-Hair to continue his words. It was a good sign that Dark-Hair started to speak up.

“I couldn’t remember exactly where I was born. I remember it was a bad area. A lot of crimes. I couldn’t even understand how I survived. But it’s okay, it’s far away. I think it was located somewhere under the territory that the Pacem reigns.”

“Ah,” Elliot’s mouth dropped open. “That’s quite far.”

“It is,” Dark-Hair agreed. “I lost my parents when I was around eight. The Pacem—they weren’t peace at all. The taxes are extreme there and the loan sharks? Far worse. My parents are extremely poor. The poorest of the poor, even. My parents took a lot of loans that they couldn’t pay. The loan sharks—they murdered my parents in front of me. They beheaded my parents in front of me.”

Dark-Hair fell silent. Now that he thought of it, why did he talk about his past?

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