𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

part two

Phil comes around slowly, shaking his head and squinting in the light.

"He--What the fuck?" He yanks at the ropes binding him to the chair. "Hey!"

"Struggling...Struggling is pointless." Steve says. "I know why you're here, and I'm not afraid of you."

"What?" Phil looks at the blonde boy who's just emerged from the shadows. Hot.

"Who are you, and how did you find me?"

Phil clears his throat.

"I know not who you are. Nor how I came to find you. But may I just say...Hi! How are you doing? The name's Phil Collen. How's it going, huh?"

"Who else knows my location, Phil Collen?"

"Alright, Blondie."

"Steve."

"Here's the thing. I was in a situation, Gallivanting through the forest. I came across your tower and...Oh, no, where's my satchel?"

"I hid it, somewhere you'll never find it."

Phil glances around.

"It's in that pot, isn't it?"

Clang.

"Ow, fuck, quit with the pan."

"Now it's hidden where you'll never find it. So what do you want with my hair? To cut it?"

"The fuck?"

"Sell it?"

"No, mate, the only thing I wanna do with your hair is get out of it."

"Wait, you don't want my hair?" Steve asks suspiciously.

"Why on earth would I want your hair? Look, mate, I was being chased, I saw a tower, I climbed it. End of story."

"You're telling the truth?"

"Why would I lie? Look, I'm a thief, not a...hair fetishist. I want nothing to do with you and your hair."

Steve thinks it over.

"Okay, Phil Collen. I'll make you a deal."

"A'ight."

"You know about those?" Steve points at his painting of the lights.

"The lantern thing they do for the lost prince?"

"Take me to see the lanterns, return me home safely, and I'll give you back your satchel."

"Sorry, Blondie, but me and the kingdom...let's just say we're not exactly...simpatico...at the moment. So I don't think I'll be taking you anywhere."

"Something brought you here, Phil Collen...call it what you want, but something brought you here."

"Uh, my feet?"

"So I've decided to trust you."

"A horrible decision, really."

"But trust me when I tell you this. You can tear this tower apart, brick by brick, but without my help, you will never find your precious satchel."

Phil squirms in his chair, flexing his wrists against the ropes. No luck, damnit.

"Lemme just get this straight. I take you to see the lanterns, bring you back home, and you'll give me back my satchel?"

"Yep."

"Fine. Deal."

"Okay!" Steve cuts Phil loose and the shorter blonde climbs out the window. He's making his way down carefully as Steve slides past him on the rope.