The Knight's Eyes

8: DEAD LOVE

KIT POV

It felt good. The hardness between his teeth that slowly weakened and flexed as it moistened from his saliva. He could work on one for days, teasing it with the inner strength of his jaw, until one-day pure anxiety would let him bite down too hard. It rips and his heart flutters with joy and he inhales relief for whatever nerves bothering him at that moment.

That just happened.

At this point, the better fun began. With the new help of his tongue, he tickled the tear point feeling the sharp end scrap against the soft pink flesh. He cleared his throat and shifted feet. He stared idly at a gray marbled square, lost into pure concentration as he locked the victim between his teeth.

From past experiences, he knew he must be careful from this point on. One misleading path could lead the tear into dark pink flesh that blisters red, threatening to bleed if its boundary is trespassed. He stiffened his shoulders and work cautiously, melodically, to direct the tear where he wanted it to go. And thank the gods it did for his sleeping mind resurfaced a past incident of pain, blood, and bandages.

A door opened somewhere, footsteps entered the throne room, and the door reclosed with a shutter.

He tightened the grip on his candy and gently tore until it hung- firm, yet ready for the final detachment. A hand tapped his back and he jerked back to life.

"Stop biting your nails, Kit," Master Citrus whispered, his gray eyebrows furrowing together.

"Sorry sir," he said dropping his wet thumb from his lips and habitually wiping it on his wrinkled black breeches.

He looked around the throne room to see what he'd missed in his moment adrift. He and Master Citrus was not alone anymore. Many people had entered and were getting settled in a decent spot before the throne of King Edrich Von.

"Sir Citrus, good day," greeted Ortonas passing by them with his normal record book in hand.

Kit scrunched his nose at the man's strong cologne and narrowed his eyes. He never liked this man's voice. It always sounded as if he was pinching his nostrils closed and purposely elevating his pitch. A few times, Kit found himself laughing realizing how close the castellan's voice sounded feminine. That would be quite understandable by his bright colorful attire, long glossy intact hair, and arched eyebrows.

Then there was his long nose, which looked bent to the left whenever he peered down on him. The castellan did just that and the corner of his red lips twitched upward, "I see you brought your sweet boy with you."

Sweet? Kit inwardly scolded and shifted uneasily by the man's unusual friendliness.

"Uh, yes, Ortonas. I think the boy could learn a great deal about royal business if he attends meetings with me," the old geezer said giving his ever so polite smile.

The castellan kept his eyes firmly on him. Kit couldn't take it any longer. His thumb and its partially decapitated nail stuck back into his mouth.

The fidgeted smirk demised into a nasty frown. Kit didn't know if biting his nail at this very moment meant any offense, but it did cape up a smirk of his own.

"I see," Ortonas disgracefully said. His unhappy eyes finally looked back at Master Citrus, "If he becomes any useful at all...send him to me. There's always palace jobs available."

When the middle-aged castellan turned and rejoined with his group of trustees, the polite smile on his master's face vanished, "Not going to happen," he whispered.

Kit chuckled and shook his head at the perverted skinny man.

"Where is he? I do have things to do," said a familiar vibrant voice.