𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐎 ↳ ⊹ ° . ᵐᵃᵗᶜʰᵃᵇˡᵒˢˢᵒᵐ

Chapter 6.

A/n: hey beauties! i'm so sorry for posting this so late, i've been insanely busy lately, getting ready for an exchange  and exams/papers as always.. although i finished this two months ago i'm only posting it now >_< hope you enjoy!

Kaoru was nibbling on the antipasti Kojiro had left on his bedside table. He was exhausted, but sleeping in the unfamiliar room felt more like a task than a reward. His head felt like shit. The silence felt so dang loud. He rubbed his eyes. Yawned. It was only his second day and he honestly felt like going back home to his friends. He couldn't help but play back his day's events. He wasn't mad at Kojiro. He was mad at himself. Well in truth he was mad at Kojiro - but not quite as much. He sighed. One of the things he couldn't quite understand was why Mei, a complete stranger, looked so familiar. The way her features were arranged reminded him of someone, someone he must have known well, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Dear Hanako,

The king has hired me to become his official painter, meaning I'll be residing at the castle for a while.  I'll miss you guys. There's so much we need to catch up on. Please come visit.

Yours,
Kaoru.

He sighed, folded the letter, and plopped down on the bed (one that was almost too comfortable for his own comfort). Looking up at the high ceiling, he felt his consciousness slowly drifting away from him as his vision slightly blurred. Suddenly everything was dark, and he was alone with himself in the great emptiness of dreams.

-

Two children were running in a field of meticulously trimmed grass of a uniform shade of green. On their chubby faces, smiles-those smiles children have that speak only of purity and bliss. A woman watched over them, long black hair flowing down her slender body like ink dripping down a brush. She held an umbrella to protect her pale skin from the burning august sun-it must have been minutes before a memorable feast, as it had almost reached its peak. Not a cloud was to be seen in the sky, and neither in the children's hearts. At least, that was until-

-

When he awoke, Kaoru was breathing heavily, his forehead drenched in a cold sweat and heart beating at his rib cage, begging to be released. The night sky was hidden by a cloudy veil, so the dim and blurry light which came through his window was only slightly a dark lavender. He could hear the wind trying to knock down his brittle glass windows and shivered, feeling a quiet fear settle in his bones. His mouth was dry, lips quivering, and so he exited his room in search of some water. As the door shut behind him with a barely audible click, he saw a silhouette draw itself against the amber glow of a lit candle. As the figure turned around, alerted by the painter's movement, the dim light of the candle painted its features.

"Kojiro?" The golden eyed man called.

"Oh, it's only you." The figure whispered with a sigh of relief.

The painter avoided the king's eyes, diving into the darkness that this midsummer's night provided. A polite bow would do, yes, and he could quickly escape the king's firm hold. And yet in an attempt to flee, the wolf only forces the trap to close around him, and the hunter comes out triumphant. So the wolf squirms, panicked, and the trap closes, closes, closes-

"Are you alright?"

Kaoru's heart sank. "I'm sorry?"

"You seem a bit panicked,is everything okay?" Kojiro looked worried. He wasn't a hunter.

Of all the things he could have said, this was the one the painter expected the least. Of all the screams, reprimands and mockeries he could have gotten, Kaoru had received a gentle concern from the king himself - something not even his father was bothered to show him.

He panicked a bit. "I'm fine, how are you?"

"Couldn't sleep with the storm outside so, you know..." Kojiro shrugged and vaguely motioned at the hallway.

Kaoru didn't wholly understand what Kojiro implied, but took a guess he was referring to Mei. "Well every man has... needs."

The king looked at him for a moment, puzzled, as if hesitant to talk. "I meant cooking."

"Oh my god- I am so so sorry, that was insanely weird of me."

The taller man chuckled. "I do have needs, though. And I'm guessing you do too, unless you aren't human." His voice came low, raspy, and with an almost challenging tone. His eyes reflected a glint of red-sparks? Only then did the painter realize that the king was holding his candle right under his chin. That explained a lot-from the slight burning feeling that was spreading along his neck to the vaguely menacing light which lit up the Kojiro's features, passing by the fact that they had unconsciously grown physically closer to the point where Kaoru could feel his shaky exhales being scooped up by the other man's inhales.

Soft. He gave a smile, a little laugh, and replied that of course, he was human. Soft. He looked up, to see the taller man looking at him like he was the only thing in the world, breathlessly admiring him in a buried longing. SOFT. There was something so clear in their eyes, in the moment those eyes shared, that was almost ineffable. It felt like something forbidden, something burning in hiding, about to escape. Something overdue.

"Good night Kojiro." And yet he couldn't stay. The painter walked away, absorbed by the sound of his clanking heels bouncing against the walls, resonating. It was too much, all of it, and he couldn't bear not to tear himself from the King. His king. Shit-maybe he was in trouble-after all what he had done could be seen as disrespectful. He ignored the thought, dismissed it, unable to give any of his energy to anything other than remembering where he could get some fresh water so he could go back to sleep.