Vintage Vanquish (boyxboy)

[10] Relax.

Felix pulled the neck of his large night shirt so that it'd cover his collar bones. His pajama consisted of large shirt and pants, striped with blue and white. Not the most presentable way to show up downstairs, but there he was, in the living room, hugging his chest and staring out through the enormous stained glass. It made the view outside seem like a puzzle, each piece a different color.

He kept fumbling with the long sleeves, eyes dry from lack of sleep, contoured by dark circles. The neighbors on that side of the house would've deduced him to be a weirdo if only the house wasn't abandoned, appearing ready to collapse any second now.

"Felix!" he heard Otilia greet.

Felix turned around.

Otilia's hint of a smile froze on her face before breaking down abruptly. Her blue eyes opened wide as well as the tiny lips. Her long fingers parted from the plate of biscuits she was holding as though it just caught fire, and it fell to the ground with a loud crash, exploding into shards.

She halted at the sound, but only kept staring at Felix. The young man hugged himself tighter as he stared at the mess wordlessly. But then, like the stained glass, the puzzle was complete, for the last piece had entered.

Vancouver. The ink had been washed off, but his skin remained stained in dark blue.

...As must've Felix's.

"Otilia..." Felix murmured faintly, but Otilia reacted none, unaffected enough to make Felix wonder if he did indeed just say her name out loud.

She spun around to face Vancouver and slammed the back of her hand against his cheek.

As if his face hadn't been variegated enoug, with the bruises, cuts and the ink stain, his cheek turned a bright red instantly. He kept his head aside, staring at the wall with his jaw clenched, eyes actually fluttering in fury.

"You disgusting, vile pervert." she hissed.

That moment, Felix saw nothing other than just that in Otilia. For an instant, her bulging eyes were no longer an attractive feature, he saw them as a symptom of Basedow Grave disease. Her round head looked like a bomb ready to explode, and her tan proved its artificiality since the angry blush didn't match the foundation cream one bit.

"If you're not gone by the time Mary cleans up the mess, I'm calling the sheriff."

She raised her chin, raised her dress and paced away.

As if on cue, the servant showed up with a broom and dustpan, getting to work. Vancouver greeted her and she offered a slight bow, then the man rounded her to get to Felix.

Felix once again pulled the neck of his nightshirt to cover his collarbones. It missed the two top buttons. Vancouver eyed the area for just a second, then went back to his eyes. Felix searched the man's for any trace of color, but all he could see there was black, somehow a different shade from the pupil.

"Look." Vancouver began. "I'm sorry I love you."

They heard something shatter and snapped their heads towards Mary. She hurriedly gathered the shards she'd dropped from the dustpan only to have them break into more.

"Let's, uh... Take this to my room?"

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Vancouver leaned on the wall, by the door, hands in pockets and head tilted down as he surveyed the room. It was that gaze characteristic of him, eyes raised and eyebrows lowered. As though he was trying to peek from underneath them. A gesture not of shyness or fear, but of seclusion and mischief.