forum "Falling in love? It's an occupational hazard." | OxO CLOSED, STALKERS WELCOME

Started May 02, 2023 by @Vitae_

tune

Carlos nodded at the homeschool question and then followed after him. “It is…surprisingly…we get some targets with kids. So we let the kids come over here and in the playroom and kids area. There’s all kinds of stuff for them. They always really enjoy it.” He smiles warmly, seeming to enjoy the fond memories.

He then huffs a sigh. “Anyways…you can stay here if you want. Ima go back to my room.”

Mikhail wondered privately what happened to the children if their parents were killed. He considered asking Carlos, but then the boy began to head back to the room. "That wasn't the deal," he called after him without moving from his spot. Silhouetted by the light streaming in from the window, Mikhail seemed but a shadow before him.

"You agreed to humor me," he continued when he was sure he had Carlos' attention. His voice was calm, without any trace of accusation. "And in return, I will give you one favor. But before that… It is nearly time for lunch. Do you plan to eat anything?"

Carlos sighs heavily. “No. I don’t. And if you hold that against me, I wont take that favor.” He snaps. He then turns to face him, his expression a mix of emptiness and annoyance.

“So besides that. What else do you possibly want from me.” This definitely didn’t sound like a question. More of an annoyed statement.

Again, Mikhail showed no visible reaction to being snapped at. If anything, he looked vaguely amused at the latter part of Carlos' questions. "Did I not say yesterday that I couldn't promise anything if you decided to feed me?" he asked, referencing the picked-at breakfast sitting abandoned on the younger boy's desk. "I don't plan on leaving you alone unless you properly dismiss me." He seemed to sober, and asked in a far more gentle tone, "Why do you not want to eat, Carlos?"

It was the first time Mikhail had used his ward's name since he'd first spoken to him, and the gravity of the fact felt important.

Carlos falls silent, staring at him. His eyes seemed dim, even though the light from the window attempted to brighten his eyes. After a while, he rolls his eyes. “I just don’t.” He grumbles. He then crosses his arms. “And about the dismissal…what would you do if I did do so?”

The boy had a hint of sass in his tone. Even if he didn’t really care, he still had that attitude.

The bodyguard's expression fell into something decidedly neutral. Given the nature of the question, it was obvious he was concealing his distaste for the idea. Still, he answered, "I would distance myself. I would not leave entirely, as my primary orders are from your father, but you would see little of me and hear even less."

After a beat, he tried again. "If you won't eat a meal, will you try a small snack?" He gestured towards the bowl of fruit, gleaming innocuously in the sunlight. "If it were only today I would not breach this issue, but your maid mentioned it has been over a week since you have eaten a proper meal. It may be," he hesitated, wondering how best to say this. "…It may be exacerbating your condition." It was one of the topics he'd researched while waiting for Carlos to get ready for the day.

Carlos scowls. “I’M NOT EATING, DAMNIT! STOP BUGGING ME ABOUT IT!” He yelled. He then quickly ran back to his room, slamming the door shut and blocking it. For a split second right as he was yelling, his expression contorted into a look of fear and disgust, then quickly changed into that sneer. Tears could be seen in his eyes as well. A tear rolling down his cheek as he quickly ran off.

Mikhail let out a long breath, sinking for a moment against the wall. His eyes were shut tight as he cursed himself for pushing the boy too hard. 'It's not my place,' he reminded himself, certain the sight of the unshed tears in Carlos' eyes would haunt him for a time to come.

Gathering himself, Mikhail set about following his ward. It wasn't hard, though his knowledge of the mansion was now punctuated by memories of Carlos' comments about the halls.

The bodyguard frowned. He'd done a royal job of making a mess, hadn't he?

He considered, briefly, contacting Mr. Ortiz to alert him to the situation. From what little he'd seen of the man, though, it seemed the man would likely smother his son even more. Neither did Mikhail have enough knowledge of the staff to know who could best comfort Carlos. 'Best to give him space for now,' he decided, making a quick detour to retrieve a few things from the library and office.

When he was finished, he returned to his room, grabbed the office chair, and quietly stationed it a few feet from Carlos' door. And with that, he settled in for his quiet vigil.

Carlos stayed in his room for the rest of the day. Every now and then, muffled sobs could be heard from the boys room. When nightfall came around, silence haunted the boys room. After another hour, there was a loud ‘click’ and the sound of heavy wind coming from his room.

Mikhail had busied himself with a few books borrowed from the library. In his pile was the title from earlier on macroeconomics, a book about criminal studies, and one on the history of their city. All were interesting subjects to him, but not so interesting as to become fully absorbed by the words and forget his surroundings. He was still on active duty, after all.

Twice more, the maid from before had returned. Both times, Mikhail had ushered her away with a tight-lipped frown and a grim shake of his head.

The few occurrences Mikhail left were only to use the restroom and find food for himself. By the time night fell, he was mindlessly doodling on folded pieces of paper from one of the offices. Glancing distractedly at his phone, he was surprised to find it was already so late. Sighing, he had just decided to call it a night and retreat to his room when a click sounded from within Carlos' room.

Mikhail's head turned instantly, tilted to the side in a manner identical to the night he had first met Carlos. As he listened, a suspicion crept into his mind. One that only grew when he heard the telltale sound of wind from the open window. He waited a half second to see what noises would follow, whether it would be the sound of someone sneaking in—or out—before acting.

Silently, Mikhail turned the doorknob to Carlos' room. He opened it a crack and peered in to look at the window.

Carlos was nowhere to be seen. The room, however, looked in perfect order. All that was missing, was a pillow, blanket, and a bag that was propped up in a corner last time Mikhail was in there. But otherwise, no necessary items were gone. The window, was wide opened and a rope ladder dangled from it.

The stars in the sky looked beautiful and shown bright in the purple and black sky. The moon was almost full, making the ground slightly brighter than usual. There, a small figure could be seen moving quickly to a large greenhouse. Carlos…

Mikhail didn't hesitate. He hopped right up onto the windowsill—an awkward perch given his height—and began to descend the ladder. Within moments he was hitting the ground with only a soft thunk to speak of his presence. He did not want to alert Carlos to his presence. Not yet, at least. Not now, after the blow-up earlier. With Mikhail's luck, that would only drive him further away and Carlos would end up getting himself hurt.

Instead, he tailed the boy from a safe distance, pulling his beanie more firmly over his moon-bleached silver hair and sticking to every shadow with an unusual level of skill for someone who previously worked at a club.

Carlos slips inside the greenhouse and moves to a little spot where the moon shone through the glass right onto him. He then set up a little place to lay down and then flopped down onto his makeshift bed. He stared up at the sky, tears still in the corner of his eyes.

After a moment, the boy wiped his eyes and dug around in his backpack until he pulled out what looked to be a homemade doll. He stared at it for what seemed like forever, then, he sighed and pushed back the brownish blond hair of the sown doll. It looked a little like if Carlos was a girl. Which honestly seemed a little weird. But from how the boy stared at the doll, it seemed to mean something for him. He then set the doll on his chest and looked back up at the sky.

The greenhouse was beautiful and Mikhail had half a mind to borrow a book on gardening next. The reminder that Carlos had not wanted him here kept the urge at the back of his mind for the time being, though.

He observed through the open doorway as Carlos retrieved a doll from his bag, and though it was hard to make out all of the features from that distance, he knew it was important from the way the boy cradled it close to his chest.

Not wanting to intrude any further, Mikhail slumped to the ground with a tired sigh so that his back was propped against the side of the greenhouse. This way, at least, he could respect Carlos' privacy as much as possible while keeping watch for any danger.

He glanced up at the moon, feeling an odd tugging sensation in his chest that he forcibly subdued. He had remained awake the entirety of the previous night, and though by all means the lack of sleep should have caught up to him by now, the light from above seemed to saturate his skin and make it buzz with a feeling of restlessness.

Where he sat was by no means hidden from Carlos, though the boy would have trouble spotting him unless he actively looked to the doorway. As had become his custom through the day, Mikhail sat back and waited. He would not move, he decided. Not even when Carlos slipped back through the door to return–even if that took all night.

Eventually, Carlos fell asleep. He held the doll close, his muscles tense as if someone would come up and take it. Though, even if he was tense, he seemed relaxed. Even if it was just slightly.

Late morning arrives, and Carlos finally wakes up from his deep sleep. Though, he still looked exhausted. The boy rubbed his eyes and stood up, stretching. He then gathered all his stuff and headed for the door. But he paused as he saw Mikhail. He still felt mad…still ashamed and stressed from what happened yesterday. He felt bad, but he also felt irritated.

Carlos huffs and walks to the door. “What are you doing?”

As the sun began to rise, Mikhail's exhaustion gradually returned. For an hour or two he managed to stave off his sleepiness through breathing exercises meant to get his heart beating quickly, but it only worked for so long before he grew bored.

Then the sun had climbed high enough to shine directly onto him, seeping into his being like a very warm and tempting blanket. He hardly noticed his nodding head, drifting closer and closer to his chest.

Movement from inside the greenhouse caught his ear, then, and he snapped into awareness with a jolt. His lazy gaze swept over to meet Carlos', and then a fierce yawn parted his lips while he stretched. His teeth flashed in the brightness of day, looking unusually curved for the brief second they were exposed. A trick of the light, possibly, disappearing as Mikhail swiped his tongue over the pearly whites and hunched forward.

"Waiting," he answered simply, voice thick with sleepiness as he rubbed the kinks out of his neck. He made no move to get up, yet, content to watch the scenery until Carlos either left or addressed him again.

While the events of yesterday hadn't exactly equated to a proper dismissal, Mikhail figured it would be safer to give Carlos space for the time being. 'Even if he is a fool for refusing to eat,' the stubborn part of him whispered.

The thought of food roused the hunger in his own belly, and it made a faint rumbling noise that Mikhail pointedly ignored.

Carlos rolls his eyes and walks back to his room. The boy climbs back up the rope and then pulls it back up so Mikhail couldn’t follow. He did feel bad…but he was still so annoyed. And honestly, staying away from this man was probably the best he could do. If anything, it was a favor. He didn’t want to scream at Mikhail again.

Carlos closes his window and locks it, then sighs and lays down. He stares at his star covered ceiling and went to daydreaming about the stars.

Mikhail gnashed his teeth with barely suppressed frustration. He did not miss Carlos' eye roll, and the show of disrespect was sorely unnapreciated.

'What is his hurry, that he cannot at enjoy the morning without acting like a brat?'

Still, the bodyguard held his tongue. He followed wordlessly until he'd seen Carlos safely to his room, though he had a few choice phrases for the boy once he pulled the ladder away. He managed to keep those to an angry mutter that Carlos would not hear. "Did not want to climb your stupid ladder, anyways," he grumbled to himself, taking the long way around to the front doors of the mansion.

The staff member that let him in gave him an odd look, and it was then that Mikhail realized the state of the dress clothes he'd worn overnight. They were terribly wrinkled and in some places soaked with morning dew. He winced at the thought.

Deciding he needed to cool off, anyways, Mikhail returned to his room and showered. When he was ready to dress, he hesitated for a moment, then pushed past the fanciest attire to grab a more comfortable outfit.

'Might as well go casual formal, seeing as I'll probably be camping out in the hallways all day again.'

He did not completely abandon formality, however tempting the notion was. When he had fully dressed, he quickly observed his reflection in the mirror. What greeted him was a loose, pale blue dress shirt with the first couple of buttons left undone, as well as a pair of brown loafers, khaki slacks and a brown belt to hold them in place. He left out the beanie for now, seeing as his hair was still damp, but kept it within reach.

Having run out of ways to procrastinate, Mikhail grudgingly returned to his post outside of Carlos' door. He stooped down to grab the abandoned books, and paused when his fingers brushed over the loose sheet of paper he'd doodled on the night prior. With a slight frown, he gazed at the inky designs.

The sound of a maid climbing the stairs made him glance up, and he hurried to find his pen and scribble a note on a separate sheet.

Mikhail did not turn the maid away this time. Instead, he handed the note and his drawings to her with a quiet, "Will you deliver this to the young boss along with his meal?"

She nodded and entered the room, leaving Mikhail to sigh and slump back in his chair, one foot propped up on his knee.

The paper, when opened, display a wide array of imaginary and scientifically accurate constellations alike.The piece was crude–Mikhail was no great artist, after all. Still, it seemed that the center of the constellations represented a flowerbed, while the outer ring consisted of the real star formations. Scribbled at the top was a title: 'Garden of Stars'.

When the paper was opened, a smaller, folded note fell out. Etched into the surface were the words, "I am not your enemy. When you realize this and can speak without anger in your tone, come and talk to me.'

Carlos paused as he stared at the picture, then the note. He then bit his lip and sighed softly, sitting down on his bed. He soon dismissed the maid and laid down, not touching his food. He stared at the picture with a solemn look on his face.

He really did feel bad…and the picture reminded him of his mothers soft words.

“The night sky is like a garden…but with beautiful, bright balls of light and life in a Black Sea.”

”Just like our garden at home…” he remembered his father chuckle as Carlos’ mother gave Carlos a flower.

Carlos shook his head and closed his eyes. Then, after a while, he got up and opened his door.

“I’m sorry…” he murmured.

The gray-haired boy looked up from his book as if he hadn't heard Carlos' footsteps approaching the door. He held the younger boy's gaze for a long moment, then nodded and slipped a bookmark into the pages to give him his full attention.

"I am sorry, too. I realize I did not approach the matter in the best way," he replied, trailing off with a wary look in his eye. Waiting to see how Carlos would react to the mention of such a touchy subject. After a moment he let out a breath, allowing his normally covered bangs to hide his eyes as he turned his head to face down the hall. With a shrug, he added, "I thought changing clothes and walking around the manor might improve your mood, or provide a distraction from your worries at the very least."

Mikhail snorted, a quick, self-deprecating sound, then returned his gaze to Carlos. "Perhaps I should have been more direct with you. It was clear you were not feeling well. And so, I am sorry."

There was another pause, and then: "As to the matter of your eating habits, I will not try and force you to talk to me about it. But I cannot turn a blind eye to it, either. First and foremost, I am your father's employee. For both your safety and mine, I will not hide this from him forever." He blinked, hoping Carlos could hear the sincerity in his voice. "I hope you know that that is not a threat."