Upside Down (COMPLETE) Inside Out, Book 2 [BoyxBoy]

Parker

As soon as Parker left the room, he let himself weep.

Parker was leaning on a wall of his bedroom when his world crashed down on his shoulders. He had no guard left and was too indifferent to worry about it; he felt like a defeated man. He didn't want to live to experience this moment, to go back to darkness and cry to know that there'd be nothing he could do to change his weakness.

His past was a prison he didn't want to go to again. He'd chose death over it all the time.

I am in love with you, the boy's words echoed in his mind once more. None of that made sense, and Parker shivered remembering it in his head. He took his wand and spelled his head to forget it. "Alpa ..." he chanted. "Alpa." At the second spell, he felt himself relaxing, like he was on drug. Focus, he told himself. You can end this enemy later.

He wanted to come up with a plan, suddenly realizing that the enemy was a powerful entity after all. He was a fortress hidden in an image of a young, innocent man, and Parker should have known better to be prepared. It's alright, he thought. This might be a learning experience for himself. He knew better not to underestimate anything afterwards—he had to accept the fact that he had been desensitized with his frequent victories lately.

Parker thought of contacting the Clan or Vutoir—he knew he'd get backup anytime to settle this matter once and for all. But this battle was his to fight, and Parker knew the triumph later would be so satisfying.

He needed all his verve for tomorrow. He went out and caught more wild birds, draining their blood to the last drop to keep himself fed. He stretched outside the building and made a few runs up and down the hill under the bright full moon. He went back to his hidden shelter as a stronger man, ready to kill.

He didn't know how much time had passed. He didn't need more information; the boy was proven to be deadly after all. He'd just go in for the kill ... yes, he felt it as he made the vow to himself. He took a deep breath and didn't wait for doubts to fill his brain again when he went straight to the room where the boy had been just now.

He stood in his place, almost frozen in his place like he usually did whenever he faced him. The boy curled up in the corner, the details of his figure still clear under the dim light. Parker breathed in and moved his feet to advance closer to him.

The boy had both of his arms tucked underneath his armpit, hugging himself in the cold. Parker advanced closer, forcing his feet to move, when he noticed the boy's body shaking, vibrating aggressively as he pressed himself in the walls. The boy shivered to the cold, and Parker found himself tempting to touch his skin ... it must've felt icy ...

No. He went to rummage into the pocket of his cloak immediately, fishing for the wand that was always there. He took the long stick out, the spell words ready to launch on the tip of his tongue. I can do this, he told himself. "Murder, murder ... I show no mercy," he whispered underneath his breath as a rehearsal, something he'd never done before.

He extended his arm, pointing the wand to the boy who thrashed more and more to the cold. Parker's hand started to shake, as if he was absorbing the shiver from the boy beneath him. He almost felt like he couldn't watch the figure sprawling on the floor, because the boy seemed to have an innate ability to absorb his sanity through the air. But Parker needed to brace himself for this.

He started, "Murder ..."

The boy broke out into a screech.

Like a man dying of poison, he shook and trembled, his whole form clattering on the cold cemented floor as he boomed the room with his screams. He shouted unintelligible things; Parker gasped, trying to make sense of the scene. None of the words were of familiar language, but it did sound like a strange spell ...

The boy's face turned scarlet in a flash; a shrimp in boiling water. Parker didn't remember finishing the spell; his heart pulsated violently in his chest. He pointed the wand again, "Revera ... revera ..." and blue sparks shot out.

It engulfed the boy's body and sent him up on a sitting position. As he regained his consciousness, he slid on the floor, smooth like a snake. The corner of the room seemed to be pulling him; the boy tried to vanish himself there, pressing in deeper and deeper. He wept; face glistening under the dim light of his tears.

Parker couldn't breathe.

"No ..." the boy cried. "No, no, no ..."

He hugged his knees afterwards, his face buried in his palms. He wailed in the room, and his voice sounded damaged from the previous screaming. "No ..." he continued, almost inaudible.

"What the fuck is going on?" Parker said, approaching him closer.

The boy looked up. When he looked straight into Parker, the crying stopped and a smile formed in his face.

He crawled towards Parker. Kneeling on a ground, he reached out and hugged one of Parker's legs, sending him off guard.

"Please ... sir ... please!" the boy said. "Don't leave me ... sir ..."

"What are you talking about?" Parker's voice shook, his wand trembled in his hand.

"They ... they are trying to kill you!" the boy said. "Please don't let that happen, sir ... please ..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" His skin reddened, his heart hammering fast—Parker had never felt such terror before.

"V—V—V—" the boy stuttered.

Parker crouched and pulled the boy by the collar of his T-shirt. "Don't fuck with me—"

"Vutoir!" When the word came out of the boy's mouth, it sounded too deep and subtle, like a croak. The boy sounded like there was a hand clasping around his throat, preventing the words to come out. He squeezed his eyes shut, the red in his face intensified, veins appeared in his forehead. "Vutoir! He's going to kill you! He wants you dead! Please!"

The grip of his hand around Parker's legs loosened. The boy's eyes rolled upwards before he crashed to the ground unconscious.

"No!" Parker screamed. "No, wake up!" He couldn't think. In the back of his mind, he knew this was what he was supposed to be joyful for, but he knew he felt otherwise. He couldn't think why that was the case.

"Please ... please wake up," Parker said. He almost didn't notice the tears rolling down his eyes.

He stopped himself and breathed in. He let himself calm down, despite the tornado of confusion swirling around in his head now.

He checked the boy's pulse first, and found himself relieved to it. "God," he said, already sliding his arms beneath the boy's body.

When he lifted the boy up, he felt his pulse relaxing. However, seeing the boy's pale face only sent more tears to well up in his eyes. Parker blinked them away, and whispered, "Why, God?" He wept and wailed alone in the room. "Why? I don't understand ..."

He brought the boy closer to his chest, and looked at the details of his face. He didn't want to harm his enemy anymore, but he couldn't allow himself to feel that way.

"Why, God ..." he continued. Inhaling one more deep breath, he made a move to his bedroom in the cottage.

He placed the boy on the bed. When he was about to do the unthinkable, he made sure his wand was ready in his hand.

He bent low, his mouth approaching the boy's face. The target was a spot in his forehead above the nose, where the two thick brows could've met.

Parker landed his lips there, and let it stay for a while.

He felt his heart relax, and pumped swiftly next. This was a different kind of magic. This was his real enemy.

A droplet of tear fell down on the boy's forehead; Parker lifted his lips off the boy, and brought the wand close to his own forehead.

"Forget, forget ... a bliss to reject," he spelled. "Delete, delete ... a bliss I not need."

The spark engulfed his lipsfirst, taking away the fresh touch of the boy's skin from it.