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Adelaide couldn't help the flair of irritation at Beaudan's words. She was wrong, again, and she hated being wrong. She rolled her eyes and huffed, standing up with her arms crossed. "Of course it's the villa in Italy. Why didn't I guess that? Should have known it wouldn't be that easy." Her barking laugh was rough, full of anger at the old man, and she began to pace the room as Beaudan continued talking. His tone had grown bitter, distant, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy curl in her gut. If his reaction to the vacancy of his sister was sad, this was nothing short of sorrowful, and she felt it with every word he spoke. Her jealousy was unbidden, she knew that - knew that Beaudan had a life outside of this stupid hunt, knew that he had trysted with others. Couldn't not know it, with how often his family was plastered across the news she too was so involved in. But her anger needed an outlet, needed someone to blame, and he just happened to be complaining about a "best friend" with the right amount of lamenting to set her off. "I'll go by myself, then, if it bothers you so much," she snapped, whirling to the door. "Though I'm sure you'll manage to show up." She stormed down the hall, feeling her ire grow where it should have evaporated, and she couldn't help but slam her door when she reached it. Quickly, she haphazardly threw her clothes into her bags, not caring that they would wrinkle. Anything beat Beaudan coming to her room and asking her to fly with him, as she was sure he would. The drive to the airport was short, and this time she knew how fast he could arrive. She called the taxi as she packed, found it waiting for her by the gate, and called her private airline as they drove. "Yes, this is Adelaide Valdara. Hello, it's nice to talk to you again to. Yes, I know it's been years. I need to book a flight to Italy now. Good, I'll be there in ten minutes." She hastily directed the taxi through the airport, past the drop-off and general parking. When they reached a booth barred by a gate, she rolled her window down, flashing her ID at the security guard, who waved them through without a second glance. There was no security line, no wait this time. Her father's private plane, always kept in Colorado for the many business ventures he took, sat on the runway, idling as it waited for her. The flight crew were running around, doing their engine checks as she approached. She smiled at them, waved, said hello to those she used to know before boarding the plane quickly. Knocking on the pilot's door, she stuck her head in, feeling a strange sense of joy was over her as she saw her captain, still flying after all these years. He was graying at his temples now, more wrinkles present, but he still looked the same to her. "Adelaide! It's so nice to see you, love." "Hello, Christopher," she said, the smile blooming across her face genuine. "I apologize for not writing sooner - I'm in a bit of a race, and it's rather impervious that I win this time. There's a private strip just outside of Villa Nequizia that we'll be landing on today." Christopher's eyes widened slightly before he schooled his expression. "The Morcant's home. Interesting. I haven't been there in years, since your father last flew out." Adelaide couldn't help the way her mouth dropped open, nor the stuttured, "You've been there before?" Christopher nodded, and she sighed. Of course, he had been there before. Why wouldn't their family be any more entwined with the Morcant family? "Very well. I'll say goodbye before we land. Thank you for gearing up so quickly." Feet dragging slightly, Adelaide took her usual seat at the front of the plane. Once she was buckled in and the crew was secure, they taxiid quickly, bypassing the growing line of commercial airliners as they took off into the sky. The flight attendant was new, someone she hadn't met before. Adelaide smiled as she took a small platter of food, a glass of champagne, and settled in for the flight. - Thirteen hours later, Adelaide awoke from a fitful sleep to find the sun just peeking over the horizon as Christopher announced their descent. The landscape was beautiful, bathed in growing orange and red as they circled once, twice, three times. By the fourth, Adelaide was getting antsy, and she asked the flight attendant to see what was taking so long. She returned with a small grimace. "It appears another jet has just landed. We'll be on the ground in five minutes." "Shit," Adelaide murmured, before thanking the flight attendant. Of course, he had beat her. Again. When would she learn? The Morcant family seemed as incapable of losing as she was, and it was starting to grate on her nerves. The flight had given her some time to cool down, and while she was still irritated at Beaudan, she felt her ire shifting into something else, something that she didn't quite want to name. She was upset that she seemed to be unable to break the codes the old man had left, yes, but something else was nagging at her. Hurt, she thought, at the wistfully bitter way Beaudan spoke of the ex best friend that awaited them. The way he spoke was reminiscent of the way he had looked at her that morning, when she had left him to her room alone. Was it possible that his "best friend" was perhaps more? She shook her head, displacing the silly thought before collecting her things. They landed smoothly, and as soon as the doors were open, she stepped out, turning to find a somber Dallas, tense Callum, and an unreadable Beaudan waiting on her. "You know," she called, voice light and teasing. "Someday, I'm going to beat you somewhere. I almost had it this time." |
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Darkseeker
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Beau had sulked through the entire flight to Italy. The moment Addie had stormed out of the room, he had gone to wake his brothers. They needed to know about the note, and about the girl who had once again vanished, leaving him with nothing but a terse comment thrown at his back. Callum had been fuming. Dallas had been hurt, visibly shaken that she hadn’t said goodbye. Beau? Beau was lost. He couldn’t wrap his head around it—how someone could spend a night with him, tangled so closely, only to turn on her heel and leave without so much as a backward glance. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Not to him. The three of them had scrambled to gather their belongings, leaving a hastily scrawled note for the groundskeeper before heading to the airport. They packed as much food as they could carry, and then they were off. But the flight? It was a nightmare. Beau’s mood darkened with every mile, sinking deeper into his chest like a stone in water. His duffel bag sat half-open next to him, spilling books, headphones, and an assortment of distractions that he couldn’t bring himself to touch. He’d tried to watch a movie with Dallas, but the predictable plot and lack of humor grated on his nerves. The absence of even one attractive actor was the final nail in the coffin, and he was up and pacing before the first act was over. Callum had no patience for him. Beau had gone to his older brother once, hoping for some sliver of advice, some lifeline to make sense of everything. But Cal had simply shaken his head, his disapproval written all over his face. Beau knew better than to push him. Defeated, Beau curled into a seat with a glass of wine, staring out at the clouds beneath him. He let his head rest against the cool window and, finally, let the memories he’d kept carefully locked away take a walk through his mind. The media had always portrayed him a certain way: the womanizer, the charming rogue with a devil-may-care grin and too many numbers in his phone. But there had been a time when that couldn’t have been further from the truth. When he was eighteen, they’d gone to Italy for the summer. He couldn’t even remember why anymore—some excuse about "family bonding" or whatever their mother had spun to make it sound palatable. But it didn’t matter. Because it was there, at Villa Nequizia, that he’d met *him*. Hollis. Hollis had been everything. And nothing. And far too much for Beau to process at the time. He’d been amusing at first, just a friend, someone to pass the long, lazy summer days with. But looking back now, Beau could see it for what it had been. It wasn’t platonic. Not even close. Hollis had been amazing. Beautiful. Crazy in the best ways. He was from Sweden originally, but had moved to Italy with his parents years ago. He spoke seven languages, a fact he often flaunted with a teasing grin that made Beau want to both roll his eyes and melt on the spot. His dark, impossibly soft curls framed a face that Beau used to think about far more often than he liked to admit. And his eyes—deep, warm brown and so *alive*—were the kind of eyes that could ruin a person. Beau remembered the lingering touches, the laughter that always echoed a little too loud in the dead of night, the knowing smiles when they snuck off together under the guise of innocence. Callum had to have known. He wasn’t stupid. They hadn’t exactly been subtle. Dallas, though... Dallas was currently living in some kind of dream world where Beau was still the good brother, the one who never did anything wrong. Beau hated the idea of shattering that illusion. As the plane began its descent, Beau’s only hope was that Hollis no longer lived in the sprawling villa next door. Maybe he had moved on. Maybe Beau wouldn’t have to see him. But that fragile hope was crushed the moment Beau peered out the window and spotted it: a bright green Jeep Wrangler parked in the distance. Of course. The unease coiled tighter in his chest as the plane touched down. Addie greeted them on the runway, her mood far too chipper for his liking. Beau trailed behind his brothers, silent and brooding, his hands shoved into his pockets as they made their way through the elaborate courtyard. The grapevines, the splashing fountains, the endless blue sky—none of it could pull him from his thoughts. When they finally reached the villa, Beau didn’t waste a second. He locked himself in his room and decided he wasn’t coming out. Not ever. But then he heard it. That sweet, lilting, *familiar* voice. Hollis. Of course he’d be here already. The sight of two jets landing would’ve been enough to pique anyone’s curiosity, but Hollis? Hollis had never been one to wait for an invitation. |
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Adelaide took one look at the storm of emotions clouding Beaudan's eyes and decided that he would be a later problem to deal with. Her own mood plummetted slightly, but she pushed past it, instead locking eyes with Dallas. He frowned at her again, and the sadness in his eyes was enough to make her heart thrum painfully against her chest. "I'm sorry I left without telling you," she said, looping her arm through his. "Beaudan just has a... special way with words that really pisses me off. Next time, you can come with me, yeah?" While he was still pouting slightly, Dallas shot her a smile and nodded. "Only if you promise you'll actually beat Beau, though. I don't want to be part of the losers team." Adelaide laughed, squeezing his arm as they appraoched the villa. It was beautiful, rich with color and historical architecture that rivalled any estate she'd ever seen. The grapevines curled towards the sky, shadowing them as they took the main walkway to the front entrance. The path split, diverting around a magnificent fountain tinkling through the air, the water catching small rainbows as it splashed. The estate itself was decently sized - smaller than the Colorado lodge had been, but larger than any common home. Its walls were a pale sandy shade, reflecting the sunlight with warmth that Adelaide basked in. The front doors were ornate, deep wood with golden decor that flashed in the light, and as they were opened by the staff, she couldn't stifle the gasp that escaped her. The inside of the home was beautiful. Tile floors, off-white in color were accented by light blue decor scattered throughout the foyer. the windows were stained glass, varying shades of blue and gold that created an ethereal sense of peace as she walked through the home. The rooms, Dallas mentioned, were on the second floor of this house, and as Adelaide climbed the grand staircase, she couldn't help but wonder at the marvellous villa before her. Forget searching for clues - she could spend the rest of her life in this home and never need another thing. Beaudan immediately locked himself away in his room, and Adelaide sighed as she softly pressed her hand to the locked door. He wasn't ready to speak to her yet, of that she was sure, so she allowed him space as Dallas escorted her to her new room. She was sandwiched between him and Beaudan, with Callum across the hall. The rooms were closer together than they had been at the lodge, but she didn't mind - once Beaudan was ready to talk to her again, the lack of space might be nice. She briefly touched the mark on her neck, still fresh despite the day's wear. "You should be careful with him," Dallas said, stopping her in the hall. "He doesn't - he hasn't been like this with someone in a long time. Just be careful with him." Adelaide opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the clearing of a throat, a honeyed voice calling across the space, "Careful with who?" Dallas' eyes shot up, narrowing on the speaker, and Adelaide slowly turned to stare at the stranger. He was devillishly handsome - taller than Beau, perhaps, but she couldn't be sure. Warm, golden-brown skin covered a soft face, almost angelic in its presentation. His hair was neatly trimmed, curled at the edges, but it was his eyes that caught her attention. Warm, honey brown and soft, they met her gaze with an innocence she could never dream to replicate. The stranger approached her, then, arm outstretched. "Hollis," he offered, voice confident and sure. "I'm sure Beaudan's mentioned me, although he's yet to come say hello." His last words were thrown at the closed door, and Adelaide winced at the silence that greeted them. She shook his hand, eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Hardly," she responded, voice cold. "Adelaide. I'll be staying with the boys for the forseeable future. My room is right next to Beaudan's, so if you need anything and he's unavailable, you know where to find me." She couldn't help the clipped edge that overtook her tone, fingers cold as she let go of his hand. Something in the way the stranger - Hollis - stood, waiting for Beaudan to greet him made her uncomfortable, though she couldn't place why. She needed to see Beaudan, she decided. Needed him to greet this stranger and send him on his way, so she could sit down with him and talk about the peculiar, almost love-struck look Hollis held as he watched the door. Finally, she cleared her throat, stepping up and knocking on Beaudan's door. "Darling," she murmured, voice barely loud enough to travel through the wood. "Come greet Hollis. I've got a few things I'd like to discuss with you anyways." |
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Darkseeker
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Beau lay sprawled on the cold tile floor, staring at the ceiling and half wishing for a bolt of lightning to strike him down. The muffled voices outside his door filtered through, each word distinct yet aggravating. He wouldn’t admit he was listening, but his narrowed eyes betrayed his focus. From the bedside table, he grabbed a baseball and began tossing it in the air, catching it with a satisfying smack against his palm. The sting felt grounding, a small comfort in the chaos of his thoughts. After a moment's hesitation, just to make her wait—maybe even wonder if he was still in the room—he shot up, crossed the room, and yanked the door open. Without a word, he threw the baseball at Callum, who caught it effortlessly, his eyes not leaving Beau’s face. For a fleeting moment, Beau saw the brother he used to know—the one who used to sneak him out of school for joyrides, who’d make excuses for him and Hollis when they stayed out too late swimming in fountains. The brother who had held him on that dark night, explaining what it meant to be bisexual when Beau was too confused and ashamed to say the words aloud. But the moment passed. Callum gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, and Beau’s brief flash of hope crumbled. This wasn’t the brother who had his back. This was the new Callum, the one who wore the weight of their parents’ expectations now that Edie was gone. Beau dragged a hand through his already messy hair, dark circles shadowing his tired eyes. He hadn’t slept—nearly 24 hours without rest, thanks to the plane ride, the pills he’d taken to stave off headaches, and the whiplash of crossing time zones. His head felt heavy, his mood darker. Then, he turned. Hollis stood there, framed in the doorway, the familiar softness of his features a cruel reminder of another time, another life. Beau’s chest tightened, but his face betrayed none of it. “Hey. It’s been a while.” The words were clipped, cold, calculated to bite. He knew they’d sting Hollis, just like Hollis had once known how to make him laugh or, with pinpoint accuracy, how to cut him down. Beau tossed his head, deliberately turning away from Hollis before he could respond. Instead, he looked to Addie. “You said we have things to discuss?” His tone was sharp but tired, and he swiped a hand across his face as if to scrub away the exhaustion. He leaned back against the closed door, deliberately avoiding eye contact with everyone in the hallway. His eyes flicked to the villa’s expansive windows, where sunlight streamed through, casting warm patterns on the floor that did nothing to improve his mood. Clearing his throat, Beau pushed off the door. “Why don’t we talk while going for a walk?” He crossed his arms and glanced toward the courtyard, his voice low. “I know I’m tired of sitting.” He started down the hall without waiting for a response, his pace slow but purposeful, daring them to follow—or leave him alone. |
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Neutral
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To her absolute annoyance, as Adelaide made to follow Beaudan, Hollis bounced along at her side. She stifled the groan that begged to escape, but she refused to mask her expression, irritation and annoyance raging across her features. "I didn't know Beaudan and I meant Beaudan and us," she quipped, growing ever impatient as Hollis continued to walk at her side, a few feet behind Beaudan's moody figure. Hollis flashed her a smile, seemingly impervious to her growing disdain for him, and instead called, "All I get is 'It's been a while'? It's been years, Beau. Years without a text, without a call, without seeing your wonderful face. You could at least stop and talk with me for a while." To her utter satisfaction, Beaudan kept walking, not deigning Hollis with a response. While she was a bit conflicted about his short temper with her, she was amused to see that it extended to this so-called 'bestfriend' who was now panting after him like a dog. "Beaudan," she snapped, voice thin with impatience. "I said that I wanted to talk to you, not you and Hollis. Please, say your pleasantries so we can talk alone." His response was nothing short of lackluster, and Adelaide couldn't help the indignant groan that escaped her. She couldn't do this - couldn't attempt to speak to him when he refused, couldn't stand the annoyingly bright presence walking beside her. Finally, she stopped, wincing at the slight stamp of her foot. She would not behave like a petulant child in front of them. Instead, she took a deep breath, collecting her emotions and trapping them in a cage for just a moment. "Nevermind, then, since you've clearly no desire to speak with me. You and Hollis can go on a lovely walk. I'll be by the fountain when you decide to honor me with your presence. Alone." Her mood had quickly shifted from hopeful to sour, trailing her as she whirled around, stalking back the way she had come. Dallas was shut in his room, but she couldn't avoid Callum, who still stood in the hall with his arms crossed. "I give up," she smarted, the words bitter in her mouth. "That slobbering dog can have all the time he wants with him, I don't care." Callum said nothing, only quirking his head to the side as he allowed her to express the pent up emotion. Once she felt as though she had extinguished the majority of her hurt feelings, she stalked away, avoiding meeting Callum's eyes. She may have been acting a bit childish, she could admit, but she would never voice it aloud, and she certainly wouldn't allow Callum to voice it for her. The foyer was no longer magnificent, instead enclosing her in its hues as she nearly ran down the stairs. She would have to admire it another day, perhaps when Beaudan decided he was in a better mood - if Beaudan ever spoke to her again, she clarified in her mind. Surely he wasn't that upset about her leaving on her own. That was what she did - what she would continue to do, for it was part of her character so engrained she wasn't sure she could change it. Adelaide always tried to do things on her own. She knew he would be here when she arrived, knew he would come, and he knew that as well as she did. Why on earth was he so upset about it? She had been doing it since the moment they met! Perhaps it was the manner in which she did it - though, she couldn't find much fault in herself. His attitude about the whole ordeal had been rather belittling, condescending as he spoke to her like the answer was right in front of her face. To an extent, she allowed, it had been, but she wasn't a Morcant - didn't know the homes, hardly knew the family. How Beaudan expected her to be so bright in a subject she hadn't had the time to study was beyond her. With a huff, she exited the villa, coming to a stop at the gushing fountain. She allowed herself a moment to stare at the lovely, intricate designs the water flowed from before turning and sitting on the sill. Droplets coated the backs of her arms, and she felt the weight begin to soak into her hair, but she couldn't bother to move. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, she found herself growing drowsy, the day's events finally catching up to her. With a sigh, she lowered herself to the ground and allowed her head to rest on the sill. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but she had told Beaudan she would wait for him here, and she wasn't one to go back on her word. The comforting heat from the sun enveloped her like a blanket, the splashing water a lullaby that beckoned her to close her eyes. After a moment of fighting, she obliged. Just for a moment, she thought. She would be awake in a moment, and then Beaudan would come, and that simpering Hollis would be gone. Everything would be fine when she opened her eyes. |
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Darkseeker
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Beaudan's stomach twisted as Adelaide excused herself, leaving him standing in the courtyard with Hollis. The idea of walking alone with him felt like a slow-motion train wreck he couldn’t stop. He turned, ready to call after her, but she was already too far gone, her figure retreating toward the villa without so much as a glance back. He sighed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he turned his wary gaze to Hollis. His old friend—or whatever Hollis had been—stood there, watching him with that maddening calm that had always thrown Beau off balance. Two or three years might not have been much time, but it felt like a lifetime. Beau tensed as the thought of the villa’s countless photographs surfaced in his mind. At eighteen, he’d been a different person: hair longer, cheeks softer, unweathered by life’s harder edges. Dallas had barely been sixteen then—a child by comparison—and Callum… Callum was always the same. But Eden was there too. With her shining blonde hair, and that sharp smile. He didn't want Adelaide to see them. See *him.* Back when life was easy. But Hollis had changed, too. Beau’s sharp eye noted the differences almost immediately. His jaw was more defined now, his curls cropped shorter, making his face seem older, less boyish. Yet, somehow, Hollis managed to fall into step with him like no time had passed, walking close—too close, in Beau’s mind. “I’ve missed you,” Hollis said, his voice low, smooth, and all too familiar. The words hit Beau like a lightning strike. Every nerve went on high alert, his entire body stiffening. He wasn’t sure if the sensation crawling up his spine was fear or something more unwelcome—a flood of memories, of how Hollis used to look bathed in soft light, of warmth pressed against his cinnamon-toned skin in the dead of night. Beau stepped back, his lips parting as he searched for words that wouldn’t come. The world around them seemed too quiet, the echo of Hollis’s statement hanging heavy in the air. “Look,” Beau finally said, his voice tight and controlled, his exhaustion bleeding into his tone. “Hollis, I’m starting to realize that we… had something. But that’s in the past now. And you need to realize that, too.” Hollis opened his mouth to protest, but Beau cut him off, his gaze flicking away, unwilling to let himself get drawn in. “I don’t want that. I don’t need that anymore. I was using you, couldn’t you see that? Can’t you just accept it now?” The words felt sharper than he intended, and guilt pricked at his conscience, but Beau held firm. He gently pushed Hollis’s hands away from his waist, ignoring the way the touch lingered like a ghost on his skin. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode back toward the fountain, the weight of his conversation with Hollis heavy on his shoulders. Adelaide sat there, her head tilted in quiet contemplation, and Beau sank down beside her, letting the cool spray of the fountain hide him. “Don’t let him find me,” Beau murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion as he ducked his head and laid it in her lap. “I’ll get drunk and make a mistake.” |
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Neutral
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Adelaide had nearly drifted to sleep when Beaudan sat beside her, his familiar scent rousing her from the haze. "Mistake?" Her words were mumbled, barely audible as she blearily blinked her eyes open. "Why?" She absently carded her hands through his hair as he responded, her resounding "hmm" relatively noncommittal. She knew that he was withholding something from her, knew that he couldn't bring himself to tell her the entire truth, but she dismissed it for now. She was too warm, the sun lulling her into a sense of security she seldom experienced as she felt the weight of Beaudan's head in her lap. After a few seconds of comfortable silence, she used her hand to shield the sun from Beaudan's face, watching carefully as she spoke. "I'm not sure what set you off earlier, whether it was my tone, my leaving, or something else entirely, but I won't apologize. I have always done things on my own, will continue to do things on my own, and if that's too much for you then we're out of luck already. I'll always try to be the best, the first, the quickest because that's just who I am." Rant over, she exhaled, leaning her head back against the sill behind her as she heard what Beaudan had to say. She nodded along, though she was sure he wasn't looking at her, humming her agreement as he spoke. "I do feel bad about Dal though," she whispered, the nickname still foreign on her tongue. "He looked so sad that I'd left without saying goodbye, like he was never going to see me again." She wouldn't forget the hurt looks he had flashed her, the way he reacted to her departure like a wounded puppy. Though he was only three years younger than her, Dallas exhibited a childish freedom that she had never possessed. She looked at him like one looks at their younger sibling, needing protection from the world around them. To have hurt him upset her beyond measure, which was a fact she refused to examine this early. She barely knew the Morcant boys, had to continue to remind herself that the had met not even a week ago. Not even a week, and she was already dearly attached to the youngest, forming somewhat of a companionship with the oldest, and doing... whatever was happening now with Beaudan. She still wasn't sure what to call it. She had expected them to resume their typical, cold-shouldering banter that left her feeling raw and exposed. Instead, she had been greeted with emotion, caring and devotion that she had never expected from anybody, let alone the boy before her. Perhaps it was the beginning of a relationship - though it felt much too soon to call it that. She nearly laughed aloud at the notion. Too soon to label this fragile experience, yet she had seen him, tasted him, lay with him not two full night ago. The though was nearly comical. "I don't like Hollis," she declared abruptly, fingers stilling in his hair. "He reminds me of a simpering pet, following after its owner for treats." |
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Darkseeker
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Beaudan lay sprawled on the ground, the tension in his body mirrored in the scowl fixed on his face. His thoughts twisted and tangled, circling around Adelaide like an unrelenting storm. One night she felt like the perfect answer to all his questions, and the next, she was distant, cold, and sharp-tongued. It left him reeling, unsettled in a way he wasn’t used to. He stared at the clear blue sky, the heat pressing down on him like a weight. "A mistake because... I dunno. Me and Hollis had a weird relationship," he muttered, the words coming out unguarded, almost to himself. He refused to meet her gaze, the vulnerability in the admission tightening his chest. When her voice turned sharp, ranting at him for his attitude, Beau could feel the fire building in him. Her words struck too close, and he had half a mind to snap back, to remind her of all the ways she’d gotten under his skin. But he bit his tongue, his shoulders tightening with every syllable she threw at him. "That's fine. No one's asking you to change who you are," he said, his tone edged with bitterness. "I just... thought maybe you wanted to fly with Cal and us this time." He stopped himself from saying more, from confessing just how much it had stung when she’d chosen to leave him behind. To fly alone after everything, after what they’d shared. After the fact that he'd said—*he'd said*—what this trip would dredge up for him. But Adelaide was already moving on, talking about Dallas, her tone softening as she expressed her concern for him. It only made Beau’s irritation simmer closer to the surface. Of course, everyone thought of Dallas. The youngest, the golden child who somehow escaped every situation unscathed. "He's fine," Beau snapped, his tone clipped. "He'll live. He doesn’t cry when his own sister leaves, but he’ll whimper and whine the second someone else does." The irritation twisted his features into something unreadable, a blend of jealousy, frustration, and something deeper. It wasn’t that Beau didn’t love Dallas—he did—but the endless attention he garnered grated on Beau’s already fraying nerves. And then, Adelaide struck a nerve he hadn’t anticipated. When she made a dismissive comment about Hollis, Beau’s laugh came out cold, laced with bitterness. "Don't like Hollis, mm?" he asked, his voice low and sharp. "Not many do. He's... something else." But even as he said it, he felt the familiar urge to defend Hollis rise up, unbidden. Despite everything, Hollis had been there during some of the most confusing, formative moments of his life. Whatever they’d been to each other, Hollis didn’t deserve to be reduced to a passing dislike. Beau owed him at least that much. Sitting up, Beau held Adelaide’s gaze, his expression softening, though his voice remained steady. "I feel like you ought to know something about him," he said. "I... we... we used to be a thing. I dunno. I never saw it as love, but clearly, he did. And I don’t know what he thinks is going to happen now that I’m back, but... you have to know that he can be a good person. Maybe...someone that someone you love loved." His words hung in the air, weighted with an honesty he hadn’t been sure he’d give. He didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he stood, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear as he looked down at her. "You weren’t my first, Adelaide," he said softly, his lips curving into a small, almost rueful smile. "But you’ll always be my favorite." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away, the villa swallowing him as he closed the door to his room behind him and locked it. He needed wine. Maybe more than a glass. Probably the whole bottle. Or two. |
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Fall 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
