† Harrington †
Jaycob's voice sounded softly from the doorway. Too afraid to release a sigh of relief, he kept quiet and watched his potential attacker turn towards the sound of Jaycob's voice.
Oh no! He may have just put Jaycob in danger. About to leave his hiding spot and call out a warning, Spencer emerged at Jaycob's side.
"Put that knife down!" he demanded, his usual authoritative voice having an effect on the attacker, who immediately froze in the darkness. "Do you think I cannot see you? You have no idea who you are dealing with. Put the knife down and hand yourself over for arrest. Immediately!"
Before the man could react – though Harrington was sure he saw a flick of his wrist that suggested putting the knife down was not his intention – another figure emerged from the darkness and grabbed him by the neck. As the man squeaked a short sound of protest and lashed out with his knife, he was dragged towards the door, where Spencer stepped back and guided Jaycob inside, as if everything had gone according to plan.
Terrified of what had happened and not knowing what else to do, Harrington stepped out of the shadows. He was almost at the door, about to call out that he was safe to reassure Jaycob and his father, when a shadow blocked the space and he cried out, unattractively, in a cry of alarm.
"It is alright, darling. The man is dealt with," a familiar voice soothed.
Finally feeling relief, Harrington threw himself forward and felt only relief when Camryn encased him in strong arms. "I am so sorry. I have taken this shortcut a thousand times, since I was barely more than a child. I was always alone and I never saw another soul until tonight," he gushed, in apology. He did not want either Camryn or Jaycob to feel at fault for this error of judgement. "In truth, I have never ventured on this path so late into the night, but I assumed it was safe. It was my own fault."
Camryn soothed him as he patiently drew him into the protection of the building – which he was relieved to find did have a back door.
It took a few minutes for Harrington's panic to subside and allow him rational thought, again, but once it did he was ready to beg forgiveness and promise never to venture onto that path ever again.
"Good." Jaycob nodded, as he emerged from the protection of Camryn's chest and arms. "I am glad to hear that you will not take such a route again. Though I must ask why you ever thought it appropriate, in the first place. Harrington, there is not one single escape route!" he objected, gesturing wildly as he gave his caring lecture.
Harrington laughed and clutched Camryn's shirt, too afraid to let go in case he fell to the floor in shock. "Honestly, I never thought about the dangers. I simply thought that it would save me some time, which would give me more time with my father," he confessed, finding no shame in wanting that, now that Camryn had also told him how greatly he had desired an attentive family member in his younger years. Not having one had led to them both making unwise decisions.
"Well, I am glad to say the man was nothing more than a pick-pocket, though it could have been much worse," Spencer chimed in, with criticism of his own. Right before he approached Harrington and ran an appraising hand over his arms and head. "No harm done, though. You survived this night, but I must agree with Jaycob. Another outing on this path and you may not survive it. Best we find you another shortcut," he said, with a subtle wink that Harrington had a feeling only he was meant to see.
He smiled back, but refused to let go of Camryn, until Spencer heaved a sigh.
"You, however, really must be more careful." He huffed and gestured for Jaycob to leave the room, which he did with a withering glare that demanded Harrington behave. He nodded in reply to the look, but otherwise kept his attention on Spencer, who poked his finger into Camryn's arm. "Your boy will patch you up, then you will walk him home. I want to hear no argument from either of you," he demanded, turning on his heel and leaving, before either of them had a chance to ask what he meant.
Then Harrington looked up at his saviour and gasped. "You are bleeding!"
Camryn frowned and reached up to touch his face, only to glance at Harrington when his fingers came back clean.
Pursing his lips, he poked his guard in the side and watched him wince in surprised pain. "You were stabbed!" he accused, removing himself from Camryn's arms to escape into the front room.
It only took a moment to request a pitcher of water and a cleaning cloth from Jerrey, which he already had prepared, no doubt thanks to Spencer's parting warning. This time, Harrington had no protest to Spencer's interference. Not that he usually did. This time, however, it meant that he could return to Camryn immediately and clean the wound on his side.
He found his guard sitting, looking bewildered, as he waited for Harrington's return. "Remove your shirt, please," he asked, as he pulled the second chair closer and moved the chess board to give him somewhere to place the pitcher of water. When he returned his attention to Camryn, he had not moved. "When I want to see you naked, I will not stab you to do so. I will simply tell you what I want," he promised, both in warning not to be silly and in warning that he would be forthright with his needs, when he was ready to face such a thing.
Right now, he had more pressing matters to concern himself with.
Camryn willing removed his shirt, revealing his bare chest, so that Harrington could wet the cloth and begin cleaning the blood away. It was likely to heal within a few hours, most likely after Camryn's next feed, but that did not mean there was no risk. Infections could still kill vampires, if a wound was contaminated. And no one knew what that 'pick-pocket' might have used his knife for, if he had cleaned it since or if it had been deliberately contaminated.
Anything was possible, so Harrington felt no shame in worrying as he cleaned the wound and wrung the cloth into the pitcher, when he was finished. The amount of blood that he had cleaned away was astonishing.
"I thought you were not returning for a few days," he recalled, eyeing Camryn carefully as he lifted the second, clean, cloth Jerrey had given him and dried the area he had just cleaned.
"The King decided to return early, as his business had been concluded. I had just left him at the hospital, to return home with Spencer, when Jaycob told us that you were calling for him," Camryn replied, looking up with concern.
Sighing, he stepped back and allowed his guard to replace his shirt, as he had done all he could without proper medical supplies, which would no doubt not be needed. "I was startled. I heard footsteps following me and the man seemed menacing. I did not know there was a back door leading into the back room here until it opened or I would have taken it and there would have been no danger," he reasoned, unable to meet Camryn's eye as he realised how awkward it was to admit that he had called for help.
At his age, he should have been able to deal with the man himself. But he had never been a fighter, no matter how hard his father had tried to teach him. He knew how to throw a punch, but that was all. And, logically, it was no match for a man with a knife.
A gentle finger touched his chin and tilted his head up. "I am glad you were wise enough to call for help," Camryn reassured him. "I am glad that you knew Jaycob would come for you, when you thought I could not."
Smiling, he gave a nod of understanding and acceptance for those kind words. "Thank you for understanding. Know that I would never choose Jaycob over you, but I also appreciate that you would never ask me to choose between you," he said, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. "If I thought you could have heard me, I would have called for you," he promised.
"I know." Camryn stood and cupped Harrington's face in both hands. "I cannot put into words what it means to me that you say such a thing. All I know is that I will never forget the fear I felt when I heard you were in danger. And I will never forgive myself for not knowing about your shortcut," he explained, looking as devastated as Harrington had felt when he thought he might die without seeing Camryn again.
Smiling faintly, Camryn brushed his thumb across Harrington's cheek and looked so sad that he could do nothing but follow his heart. Pushing up onto his tip toes, he pressed his lips to Camryn's and breathed a sigh of relief when the pressure was returned.
He almost rejoiced when Camryn was the first to part his lips and caress Harrington's with a gentle kiss. Instead, he reciprocated until they were lost in a moment of unrestricted passion, sharing kisses so tender and heart-warming that he would never ask for another kiss in all his life if only this moment would last forever.
But it could not. Just as gently as it had begun, Camryn cupped his face and broke away with a smile. "You have won this battle, darling. I cannot deny it any longer. But for anything more, I must insist we wait until you are of age. And perhaps, we should not mention this night again, when you came to such danger and I was bested by my own recklessness," he decided.
Refusing to allow that, Harrington shook his head. "No. I was the reckless one, not you. There is no shame in defending someone you love, nor in being so concerned for their safety that you neglected your own," he argued, because he knew exactly the reason for Camryn's distraction.
"No," he said, with a smile and a hint of agreement. "No, there is no shame in that." He brushed a swift kiss across Harrington's lips before holding out his hand. "May I still walk you home?"
"Of course." Harrington clasped his hand tight and lifted the borrowed items from the table to return to Jerrey on their way out. Then, he would allow Camryn to walk him home, mentioning nothing of the fact that he had just confessed his love for him.
Later, when he was alone, he would scream with joy and relief. For now, he focused on the happy, light feeling that encased his very soul in knowing he was loved.