The Man With The Gloves (mxmxmxm)

8. Ashur's tears

"Before he could conceal it, they saw through the mask the anguish of a mind in doubt, loathing to stay and dreading to leave its refuge." ("The Two Towers", The Lord of the Rings Part II, J.R.R Tolkien)

"Dear God, if you exist, please end my life right here, right now".

Ashur snorted a bit at that, then he stretched out his hand and easily pulled Fayez up.

Fayez looked up at the prefect, not even aware that he looked like a complete moron, with his eyes wide open and his mouth agape.

Physically, Ashur looked nothing like Zephyr. He was as tall as his blond lover was small. His skin was a rich brown, whereas Zephyr's skin looked like it would burn under the weakest ray of sun. He had vibrant hazel eyes, a few shades lighter than Akhenaton, while Zephyr had baby blue ones.

Yet, there was also a strange similarity to both men, but Fayez couldn't exactly pinpoint it. He wanted to believe it was their inhumane beauty, but that would have been a far too easy explanation. After all, at least fifty percent of the students at the ISB met this criteria.

Maybe it was connected to the fact that their beauty had an untarnished quality. They looked like they didn't really belong to this planet and, in consequence, couldn't be affected by anything happening under those changing skies. It wasn't only linked to their physical appearance, though. It was also the way they tended to act in public, for they always remained polite, quiet, and almost indifferent.

In that regard, they were so unlike Akhenaton, who always bore a scarred face and a short temper. Fayez didn't like the idea one bit, but he believed he was himself more similar to the brunet, in a sense that he, too, was broken.

Of course, fucking prefect Akhenaton would disagree with the comparison, saying that Fayez was nothing but a spoiled brat, but Fayez knew better. He could read on Akhenaton's face the same anguish he was feeling deep down - only Fayez was better at hiding it, or so he thought.

Fayez was so deeply lost into his thoughts about the fascinating three men, that he hadn't noticed the subtle shift in Ashur's expression. Of course, had he been more observant, he still probably wouldn't have realised that Ashur's good mood was no longer, for he couldn't read the quiet prefect, as they were almost strangers to each others.

"Why is Zephyr's scent so strong on you?"

Fayez startled at that. Ashur's voice had been even quieter than usual, when he had asked this question, but there was an underlying threat to the way he now smiled at him - icily, the smile never quite reaching his eyes.

Fayez then remembered Helmut's warning, on the day he had arrived at the ISB.

Be careful around Zephyr. Ashur and Akhenaton are very protective, to say the least. You won't last long if you get too close to the blond beauty.

Holy Moly Fucking Shit. That was it. That was the day he died, in the hands of a tall and handsome guy.

There were worst ways of dying, right?

"It's not the way it looks, really" Fayez sputtered, feeling perspiration rolling down his temples when Ashur frowns, obviously displeased with his reaction. "Zephyr and Akhenaton can tell you all about it when they're back."

"How about - you tell me yourself instead?"

Fayez was about to decline the offer, but thankfully had enough wit to realise that it had been merely a rhetorical question. He nodded obediently, and started following Ashur in a direction opposite to his own bedroom.

They walked for almost ten minutes, as the castle was pretty big, but it still felt too short to Fayez's troubled mind. Eventually, Ashur opened a discrete door, one that Fayez could have easily passed by thousand times and still failed to notice it.