Chapter 3: Chapter 1.2: Reverie

Trigger warning: Strong language

......

Keary had tried bringing pets home before.

When he was 6, he sneaked home a hamster in his school bag. A classmate’s pet hamster had miraculously spawned several and Keary had snatched one immediately. It was a lovable little chap, smaller than his tiny palm and immensely friendly. When he reached home, he found that it had been smashed to a pulp of blood and fur by a math textbook. 

When he was 9, he brought the class pet home over the summer holidays under the orders of his teacher. It was a magnificent fighting fish, supposedly hardy enough to survive even the end of the world. The very next morning saw it floating at the top of the bowl, bloated and very obviously dead. 

When he was 14, a kitten crossed his path on the way home from school. It was tiny and its piteous whining broke Keary’s tender little heart. He brought it home and fed it fresh milk he filched from the kitchen. Two hours later, it vomited uncontrollably, shat its insides out onto everything around, keeled over, and died. Most cats are lactose intolerant.

The list went on. Anything that had ever come into his care had ended up dead. He had finally gotten the point and given up trying to bring any living thing home. 

Until now.

 Poor, poor Cardin Rasheville, half-dead as it was.

……

Mikka the Cyclone spun around from her rig of computer screens. 

“Nothing! There’s absolutely nothing!” she shrieked. The blue glare from the screen did nothing to hide the dark shadows under her chestnut eyes. “Fuck fuckitty fucking fuckshit fuck! I’ve searched for THREE BLOODY DAYS and there’s NOT A FUCKING THING!” 

She rose in fury and unleashed her frustration on a chair nearby with a scream, kicking it so hard that it splintered into rubble.

Lazily, Keary reached out and picked up a piece of the shattered wood. “Amazing. A person randomly appears and not even our resident computer genius can get anything on him. Perhaps he really did just fall out of the sky.” 

The last of her energy drained from her outburst, Mikka flung herself onto the old, worn-down couch nearby with a loud groan, limbs splayed. “Can’t you give me any more information? Anything else at all?” she whined.

“Nope. Just the name.”

“Cardin Rasheville…” She stared at the ceiling above, lips twisted in a pondering pout. “What’s that, American?”

“French, more likely. I’ve heard him speak it.”

“Hmm…” she sulked. “Who the heck is this guy anyway?”

“Nobody of concern.” Keary tossed the splinter aside and stood, ruffling her blue hair as he left the room. “It’s fine. Get some rest now.”

So the angel remained unplaced, unknown.

……

 In the darkness of his dream, the golden-haired, blue-eyed boy floated weightlessly upon waves of music. Each note shimmered gold and surged around him and resounded deep within his ethereal body as if tangible, but when he tried to grasp it, the music flowed through his fingers, insubstantial as the shadows of drifting clouds in the night sky. 

I know this song… but what is it? And where do I know it from?

Hazily, he tried to focus on the notes swirling all around and through him, and as they soared away, he tried to give chase. There was something here, beyond this, that he needed to find.

Where are you going?

He reached out his hand, only to realise that he was no longer in the dream. In the soft black of the night, he stared up at the ceiling through his outstretched fingers. The luminous pearls had disappeared, but the music remained, beckoning faintly through the walls.

Rallying his strength, he pushed away the heavy quilts that bore down on him and slid his feet to the floor. He felt weak, like he hadn’t eaten for days, and a feeling of unease nagged at him from the back of his mind.

Where is this place? How long have I been here?

The walls were bare and the furniture in the room offered very little by way of clues. He decided that he would have to venture out if he wanted to glean more information on his whereabouts. So, with not a little effort, he rose to his feet unsteadily, and cursed when black spots immediately appeared in his field of vision. Merde… Willing them to clear, he looked around the room to find his clothes, but only found a thin robe that had been thrown carelessly across the foot of the bed. That would have to do.

You are reading story Seizure at novel35.com

It was a struggle for him to don the robe, and he had to first strip off the thick bandages covering both his arms. The dressing seemed vaguely professional, but a little bit over-enthusiastic. Finally, he managed to rip through the bandages with his teeth just enough to untangle himself from the thick encasings so he could slide his arms through the sleeves. The endeavour left him exhausted, but the urge to find out where he was forced him to resist sinking back into the bed, tie the belt into an easy knot, and step through the bedroom door.

The alluring sounds of a dreamy piano melody floated from down the corridor. A recording? No… somebody was playing. The music soothed some of the tension that came with all his unanswered questions, and led him through the corridor and down a stairway. With each careful step he took, the song grew louder. 

Upon managing to reach the end of the stairs without buckling and falling, he peered through the doorway into a barely furnished room. A worn sofa and an armchair stood in the middle of the room, but in the corner, next to one of the windows, was an upright piano. A dark-haired stranger clad in black was sitting before it, his back to where the boy stood, clearly lost in the music. The blonde stood entranced, watching the graceful hands gently coax each beautiful note from the ivory keys. 

Eventually, the song came to an end, a comforting resolution that made him give a small, involuntary sigh. However, this feeling of peace was short-lived, and the boy started when the dark-haired figure spoke. 

“Debussy’s Reverie. It was one of his earlier compositions, and although he later came to despise it, it’s still one of his most well-received works.” The dark stranger stood and turned around. “I hope it wasn’t too jarring to your rest.” 

The boy’s breath caught in his throat. Sleek and dark and tall, the pianist moved toward his guest with grace, a panther in its element. As he came closer, the boy saw that his host’s eyes were silver. The apparition hadn’t just been one of his dreams then. 

“Who are you?” the boy murmured. 

“You can call me Keary. We’ve already met briefly when you were last conscious, but it seems you’re having some difficulty remembering things right now.” 

The words of the stranger—Keary—held no menace, which eased the boy’s fear slightly, but his low, quiet voice made him shiver. 

“How long have I been here?” 

“Since the night before last. You were wounded and hypothermic in the snow, but you refused to go to a hospital before you fainted, so I brought you to my house. It’s a good thing your condition improved, otherwise I would have been forced to disregard your wishes and bring you to a doctor anyway.” 

Searching his memory, the boy could vaguely remember the numbness from the cold, muffled words, and a dark silhouette against a blinding white backdrop. It must have been him. He spoke hesitantly. 

“Thank… thank you.” 

Argent eyes searched the cerulean ones. Catching one of the boy’s hands in his, Keary trailed his other hand from the blonde’s slender wrist to his elbow, causing goosebumps to rise on the white skin as he lightly pushed back the sleeve of the robe to reveal the raw red gashes underneath.

“Your wounds, they seem to be healing well now. But… it looks like my dear angel didn’t care much for my hard work…”

Amusement twinkled in the silver eyes. Then, as the boy frantically tried to find a response, Keary raised the smaller hand to his face, and very gently grazed the pale fingers with his soft, warm lips. 

Instantly, the blonde flushed. He snatched his hand away, doing his best to suppress another shudder that ran through him. He was suddenly painfully aware of how thin the fabric of the robe was, and how naked he was underneath it.

To be trapped in a hall with a beautiful stranger, barely clothed in this flimsy, vulnerable gown…

Observing the smaller boy’s discomfiture, Keary’s smile widened for a split second before he turned away, releasing the boy from his gaze.

“So, who are you, Cardin Rasheville?”

“Cardin Rasheville?” the boy repeated hesitantly. The name was unfamiliar and awkward on his tongue. “Who is… Cardin Rasheville?”

“You. Or so I thought.” Turning back to him with gentle askance, Keary reached into his pocket and tugged out a black cord. Holding it up it in front of the boy’s face, he repeated the name softly under his breath.

“Cardin Rasheville…”

The metal pendant spun, catching the light and reflecting it into the boy’s blue eyes. They widened.

A flash of sand-coloured hair flying back into my face… a deep-throated chuckle… the sweet scent of lavender… a voice screaming for me to run… struggling to cross a white field… falling face down, unable to move any further… 

Cardin… Rasheville…? 

The boy reeled backward as he was assaulted by the flashes of memories. Quickly, Keary moved forward to catch him, only to find that the boy slumped against him had fainted yet again.

 ……

You can find story with these keywords: Seizure, Read Seizure, Seizure novel, Seizure book, Seizure story, Seizure full, Seizure Latest Chapter