The blonde boy walked into the room, quietly humming a tune under his breath before plopping face-first onto the bed.
Kincaid stood there for a moment, watching Arthur. The long lines of his body. His gorgeous golden curls. His beautiful face buried among the dozen plushies on his bed.
Watching Arthur was one of his favorite things to do. Even when they met in the forest, sometimes Kincaid would simply sit there and watch while Arthur went on and on about something or other.
Kincaid didn’t mind. He wasn’t much of a talker. He liked listening to Arthur’s voice. He liked looking at Arthur’s face. He simply liked being in the same space as the other boy. It always made him feel like everything was alright in the world.
But it didn’t feel like that anymore. His world was crumbling because Arthur wasn’t there anymore.
And Kincaid was going to change that.
He stepped from behind the curtains, deciding to put an end to his lurking, and cleared his throat. “Arthur.”
The boy on the bed screeched, sitting up and throwing a toy in Kincaid’s direction. Kincaid caught the purple squishy octopus and awkwardly put it away.
“Kincaid!” Arthur gasped, putting a hand over his chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Kincaid explained, taking a careful step forward.
“So you broke into my room?” Arthur asked.
“The door was actually open,” Kincaid muttered. “But what else am I supposed to do, Arthur? You won’t talk to me.”
“We can’t even talk anymore?” Kincaid asked, his voice breaking.
Arthur didn’t respond. He simply looked away.
“I understand that you don’t love me anymore,” Kincaid said quietly, even though he didn’t understand it at all. “But you won’t even talk to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered, still not looking at him. “I’ve been busy. With school. And all these new people at the institute—”
“Is that it, then?” Kincaid asked, trying not to sound hopeful or relieved. “You’ve been busy?”
Arthur pulled at his scarf nervously. “Yes, well, there is also the fact that Lance doesn’t—”
“I don’t care what Lance thinks!” Kincaid groaned in frustration.
“You mustn’t say that,” Arthur shook his head worriedly. “The prophecy isn’t real, Kincaid. So, you two need to make up.”
“I don’t see that happening,” Kincaid snorted. “Especially from his side.”
“Then maybe you should try harder,” Arthur took a step closer to him, making Kincaid’s heart quicken.
“You do know you’re the only thing stopping Lance from ending my life?” Kincaid swallowed, trying to inhale sharply just so he could smell the citrusy scent on the other boy. “You’re the only reason I never fight him back.”
“Which is exactly why the two of you need to make up!” Arthur groaned. “I’m not going to be here forever.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kincaid frowned.
“Nothing,” Arthur turned away again. “I only meant that there is so much going on in the shadow world right now.”
“Arthur,” Kincaid whispered, reaching out for the boy and gently holding his arm. “It doesn’t matter what’s going on. I would never let anything happen to you.”
Arthur swallowed at that, his eyes dropping to where Kincaid was holding him. “Kincaid.”
“I would rather die than ever see you hurt,” Kincaid told him, wanting Arthur to know how much he still loved him. Would always love him. “You know that, don’t you?”
Arthur let out a shuddery breath, chewing on his lower lip. “I... You... You shouldn’t be here.”
“What?” Kincaid asked, unable to remove his eyes from the boy’s mouth.
“You shouldn’t be in my room,” Arthur explained nervously. “If my parents find out—”
“I’m not scared of your parents,” Kincaid huffed.
“Really?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Okay then. DAD—”
Kincaid put a hand over the boy’s mouth to shut him up immediately. The feel of Arthur’s lips against his hand made Kincaid feel a little dizzy. He wondered what flavored lip gloss Arthur was wearing today. He wondered if it would be too weird to remove his hand and smell it.
“Please don’t call your father,” Kincaid whispered, removing his hand and desperately trying not to do anything weird with it. “He threatened to turn me into a jellyfish if I spoke with you again.”
“I like jellyfish,” Arthur noted. “They’re cute.”
“What about me?” Kincaid couldn’t help but ask. “Do you still like me?”
Happy Summer Solstice and Happy Birthday Kincaid 🧡