Where's Casper?

Him

*Japeth's POV*

It's weird, but I think I like him.

I have never felt anything towards anyone besides Casper, but this is different. I feel different. I feel... destroyed.

I know he doesn't feel the same. I'm sure of it, and that's the thing that destroys me. Boys don't like boys, or at least he surely doesn't.

I see the way he looks at her, like she's the only person in this world who could actually make him happy, and I'm afraid she might feel it, too. I'll eventually end up alone and married to a girl I don't even love.

I've talked to my father, and he said I will get married at the end of this summer. I don't want to do it. Everyone who I've ever wanted is far from being the person he wants for me. That's why I ran away. Because I wanted a moment to think about what I wanted, and I'm not sure yet. Maybe I want someone else. Maybe I want to keep running with them, feeling my heart pounding in my chest with every inch the villain gets closer. Or maybe I want to die.

His full lips arch in a smile, revealing his perfectly white teeth. I wish I was Casper. If I were her, I could have him. It does sound like envy, and it is envy. I envy every single part of her.

If you asked me last week, I wanted her more than anything, but now, I'm not that sure. It's not like I don't love her anymore. No. That's out of the equation. I still do, and always will. It's just the fact that I started feeling things for someone else, but I didn't lose interest towards her. I never will.

In two days, I will have to return home. Me and father made a clear deal: he was supposed to let me find Casper, and I was supposed to return until the last day of spring, that exact day happening to be my birthday, when I will turn 15. Yes, I may be really young, but I like a man who behaves like he's in his late 30s (he looks 27, though). In two days, I have to sit on my black armchair, looking as mature as possible, and welcome various women in my study, have at least 5 minute conversations with them, and try not to babble. Their ages will be from 12 to 46, but I doubt I will choose any of the given limits. Too old or too young never made any good.

He knows about it. I told him when I came sprinting out of my manor, happy to be able to help. He said he wants to talk about something, and, right now, he's in my room, chewing on some hard candy.

"What do you think about us, the circus?" Dante asks, pouring little pieces of pure sugar on my palm. I don't know what I'm supposed to say, but I know that's not what he wants to talk about.

"You're ok. Clearly not what I expected, but, overall, I'm pleasantly surprised."

He smiles, leaning over the edge of my bed to grab a dark purple colored piece of caramel he dropped on the floor. He almost falls on the carpet but does a last moment save with his right hand, getting up. 

"You're a nice kid, you know?" He asks, throwing the piece of caramel in his mouth. I giggle. I'm not a kid.

"I hope so. When are you going to get me a carriage to get home with? I suppose that's what such a mature man like you would do for a little kid like me."

He throws the little pieces of sugar in my face. Thankfully, I close my eyes before they can get into them. I throw the ones he gave to me but miss the target. They end up sprinkled in his wavy black hair.

"I suppose you know I'm not here to talk about those things. You're smarter than that."

He shakes his head, spreading candy on my bed sheets. He slowly gets closer to me, putting his right hand on the back of my neck. He leans a little bit, and he's so close I can feel his cold breath against my ear when he whispers:

"You should let her go. Duels between men like us never end well."