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Edgar leaned back in his seat with his eyes glued to the blank ceiling. He had absolutely no inspiration at the moment. Why? Because of some bullshit .
The owner of the manor had the audacity to actually take one of his paintings away from him. His paintings only lasted about four seconds anyway… So, what was the big deal? Three to two? Why? So what? He had to paint and set it up too! It literally didn’t even- Ugh!!!
Not only that but his speed boost was taken as well. That was so. So . So . Shitty. Four was a pathetic excuse for an even number. Six was far better. Especially when it came to a speed boost.
Some survivors were able to make new items out of jack shit . Like, where the fuck did Norton get his magnets from? How did Patricia get new stuns? The bubble thing that protected Emma? Huh? What? Literally, what the fuck ? They spawned out of thin air!
Meanwhile, survivors like him had only a limited amount. Once they were gone, they’d have to pray to God to find a useful item from a chest. Chests were located all around the map with random items inside. Would it kill them to put a blank canvas inside? Apparently so.
He brought his legs up to his chest to hug as he pouted. There was truly nothing he could do about anything. It wasn’t normal for him not to get his way either. This had to have been a horrible act of punishment for pallet slamming the hunters one too many times.
Unfair. So unfair. So, so, so unfair.
The thoughts of pure anger lingered in his mind until the sun was starting to dim. The light in the room became warmer as it seeped through the window. How long had he been sitting there? It must have been a while now…
He didn’t feel like going out to do anything until he proved himself worthy of the title. A painter should do everything he can to create masterpieces… If he couldn’t even do that, then what was the point?
Over time, his stomach started to growl. The last time he ate was breakfast- Or, what he considered breakfast. Chocolate Yorkshire puddings could be breakfast if he ate them in the morning. He should sneak down for a snack and go right back up before anyone noticed he was even there. Maybe… Well...
He was still staring at the blank canvas with nothing but disgust for it. How dare it remain pure white whilst his brain was cluttered with woes and worries. Should he try to put those concerns into art? It could have been worse though.
It would have been a waste to start painting right now too. Just painting whatever he felt like meant the canvas would be used… What if all his canvases were stolen from him? It would be such a pain in the ass to make his own. That photographer or sculptor may know how to help- but… Ew… He didn’t want to talk to the hunters.
Whatever. Maybe he was in a bad mood from being hungry.
Edgar reluctantly stood up from his spot and stretched his arms over his head. His back popped just a little before he stretched out his neck afterward. His bones had been feeling achy lately from his bad posture. Even rolling his shoulder created an odd sound as of late. Maybe he should talk to the doctor about it.
Creeping out of his room, he quietly turned around to lock the door. Everyone told him he didn’t really need to do that but he simply didn’t trust anyone. It sounded like an excuse to go rob him or something.
He walked down the hall with his head held high in the air to prevent him from making eye contact with the others. Some people were chit-chatting with their doors open or simply hanging out in the hall. There were so many people in the manor. When was there going to be a capacity limit? So crowded.
It didn’t take long for him to walk into the kitchen. There were probably still some Yorkshire puddings in the fridge. He wasn’t sure who made them or how the manor worked, but hey. Food was food. It was food he was familiar with, liked, and otherwise deemed as safe. He would never repeat his mistake of trying a stranger’s food again… Not after whatever the hell that grave digger made.
A shudder ran down his spine as he recalled the horrid flavor of whatever the fuck that was.
Much to his dismay, he found himself with someone else. The sound of footsteps entering the kitchen caused him to frown deeply. Great. Now he’d have to- Wait.
His hand paused from opening the fridge when he spotted Luca walking in with a book in his hands. He wasn’t looking where he was going. What was he reading? Some lame math equation again?
He tilted his head to the side a little to see the cover of the book. It appeared to be… A recipe book? What? Did Luca even know how to cook?
“Luca.” Edgar finally spoke up whilst snapping his fingers from his spot.
“Ah-!” Luca flinched as he nearly lost the page in his book. He set it down very carefully to not disturb the page before waving to Edgar. “Hey! You scared me.”
“How could I scare you? I’ve been here the whole time.” He placed a hand on his hip whilst his head tilted upwards just a little. “What’s that?”
The “prisoner” grinned from ear to ear as he gestured to the cookbook. “Berenjenas rellenas!” His uneven eyes were glittering with excitement for some reason.
“Huh?” Scowling just a little, he peered into the book to see what Luca was talking about. He had never heard of such a thing before.
“It’s eggplant! I was looking through some books in the library and came across this one. When I flipped through it, I was reminded of something… I think I used to eat this before I went away.” Turning back to the book, he stroked the page lovingly with his fingertips. “Looks familiar… But I can’t really recall.”
“Eggplant is super gross…” Edgar never liked the bitterness of the- The… vegetable? Fruit? What even was it? He didn’t know. “What’s in it?”
“Well, the book says it serves two. 2 eggplants, 2 cloves of garlic, 1 onion, extra virgin olive oil, 350-gram ground beef, and pork mixture, tomate frito, shredded mozzarella cheese, sea salt, and black pepper…” Luca visibly hesitated before continuing. “Seems easy, I think. Just gotta prepare and pop ‘em into the oven.”
It was no secret that sometimes Luca got into things over his head. He usually had a horrid habit of making simple tasks far harder than they had to be. It was just how his brain worked.
Seeing him look disappointed when whatever he was doing didn’t work out made Edgar’s heartstrings tug a little. He couldn’t stand to see him upset because of something again. Not when he could have a say in it. Guess it was because of how good of a person Edgar was. Yeah…
Opening the fridge, Edgar began to pull out the different ingredients that the recipe called for. “Get out a baking sheet, Luca.”
“You’re helping me…?” Luca seemed extremely pleased. He playfully saluted Edgar before rushing to dig around in the cabinets. “Thank you!!”
“Don’t mention it…” It took a lot of willpower to hide his smile that was creeping onto his lips.
If Luca was a dog, his tail would be wagging back and forth nonstop. He was over the moon about making food with Edgar. It had been a while since he cooked and could use some help. Violetta may or may not have told him to stay out of the kitchen unsupervised. It wasn’t his fault the noodles he made decided to catch fire.
“I think my mother used to make these with rice. Or… was it my grandmother?” Luca pulled out the proper tray and set it down on top of the counter. “We used to eat it all the time since it was my favorite…” He tilted his head to the side with his smile falling. “Was it…?”
“No, your favorite was paella. That’s what you told me last time.” Edgar reminded him. He set the onion, eggplants, and garlic on a cutting board with a knife at hand. “How thin do I cut these?” There was no reason to linger on lost memories that would guarantee to make Luca sad.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luca’s hands twitch shut. Another habit he did when he became slightly frustrated. It didn’t last long though.
“First we wash the eggplants and then cut them in half. Like what the book says.” He smiled half-heartedly at Edgar. Then, he took hold of the eggplants and walked over to the sink. “Do you wanna try some when it’s done? It’s really good.”
Trying a vegetablefruit he didn’t like wasn’t the most ideal situation. He knew that. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time he tried something Luca liked just to make him happy. He wasn’t a fan of shellfish either but he could never say no when Luca asked him to try it for the “first” time. Edgar had clearly become a little bit of a pushover.
“And the onion and garlic?”
“Uh… Diced…?”
It wasn’t long before they were working away with cutting and preparing. Luca washed the eggplants for Edgar to slice in half. They looked very nice as they sat on the baking pan.
Then, it was the onion.
Both of them eyed each other nervously at the onion and the knife. It would be embarrassing to start crying because of the onion. The fumes it gave off were bound to irritate their eyes.
“You want to make this, so… Go ahead.” Edgar set the knife down on the counter to take a few steps back. “Be my guest.”
“No, no! How could I? Did you see how nicely cut the eggplants are?” Luca gave Edgar a thumbs up with both hands. “I think you should dice the onion!”
“Maybe I don’t want to!” Huffing back, the painter crossed his arms. “You can do it.”
They glared at each other intensely with their brows furrowed and their noses scrunched up in distaste. The tension in the room rose until they started to crack.
Luca cracked first with his lip twitching from trying to fight back his smile. Edgar was having a difficult time too.
“Pfft-.... Fffffiiiiiiiiineeee!” Luca sighed dramatically as he grabbed the knife to start cutting. “You owe me next time, Valden!!”
“That’s what I thought, Balsa.” Edgar mused back with a knowing smile. He leaned against the counter at a safe distance away. The onion’s fumes shouldn’t be able to get him from there, right? He never really cooked for himself, so he didn’t know.
The initial cut was fine. The “prisoner” sliced into the onion with no problem at all. The more he got to the center, the more it started to sting though. His hand shook just a little as the onion tears formed in his eyes that were burning just a little.
“Mm…” Just a bit more… He had it sliced vertically and now just had to dice the rest.
Edgar was watching from the corner of the kitchen with fine attention. He didn’t want Luca to hurt himself.
The cuts slowed down considerably as Luca sniffled there whilst rubbing his eyes with his shoulder. He set the knife down a few times too. It burned so bad-
“Are you serious? Come on…” The painter marched on over to take hold of the knife instead. He nudged Luca out of the way with his hip. “Go wash your hands and face in the sink. I’ll finish it…”
“Are you sure? I was almost don- Nah. Nope. It hurts-” Luca whined as he turned around to the sink. His eyes were a little red from the fumes and were tearing up pretty badly. It would be better to take a break like this before he got hurt.
“Yeah, I’m sure. But- Consider this even. You have to cut up whatever it is next time.” Edgar sucked in a deep breath to brace himself for the onion tears. He chopped up the rest very sloppily whilst fighting back the urge to blink every second.
“You’re the best!” He quickly rubbed his hands clean with soap before splashing some water onto his face. The cool water felt amazing against his sore eyes. He patted his face dry with a hand towel afterward.
Luca opened the window in the kitchen to let it air out too. The sun was really starting to set by now. It was pretty.
The fresh air filling the kitchen helped considerably. Poor Edgar was really going through it still though. He was biting down on his bottom lip to stop the tears from falling as he finished. The garlic and onion were diced up and mixed together on the side of the cutting board.
He dropped the knife to wash up in the sink as Luca did. Whoever designed onions to hurt should fucking d-
“Oh- Wait.” Luca held up the book again. “It says we need to bake the eggplants first then cut all that stuff up for the filling. Oops! Got a little ahead of ourselves.”
“You-” Edgar lowered the towel from his eyes with a small pout forming on his face. “How long?”
“An hour…?”
He walked over to the oven and waited for Luca to tell him how hot with a small huff.
“180C!”
He set the oven to that heat and opened it up. Edgar tossed the baking sheet into it and shut the opening a second later. So… That was out of the way and now they could spend an hour together.
Good.
“Now what?” He lifted a brow at Luca with curiosity.
“Hm… Oh! I know.” Luca grabbed Edgar’s hand and dragged him out of the kitchen. They wandered into the dining room. It was empty because it was probably nearing seven pm. Everyone else already had dinner or was busy with rank, it seemed.
Edgar kept his arms crossed whenever Luca let go. He wasn’t sure what they were doing until he spotted Luca shoving one of the tables out of the way of the window. Then, he walked over to the gramophone.
The gentle music of the record filled the room with a very steady beat. It was a bit solemn and dreamy at the same time; something Edgar was fond of.
Luca made his way to the center of the space he cleared out and bowed deeply. He offered a hand out to Edgar and smiled. “May I have this dance?”
The painter held his hand close to his chest with hesitation. His cheeks became a light shade of red at the sight of the “prisoner” standing there in the golden hour’s light. His tan skin seemed to glow from the light surrounding him from behind. It was like he was made out of pure sun as he waited there with his hand extended to Edgar.
He was never good at dancing. He found it to be annoying and a hassle to learn it. His father gave up on making him go to events with dancing and classes in general. But Luca…
Silently setting his fingertips into Luca’s palm, he found himself drifting closer to the beautiful man he had put his trust into. Moments like these truly reminded Edgar that he was loved and that he was capable of loving back.
Everything seemed to fall around him like clockwork. Luca’s hands slid around Edgar’s waist whilst his went around his neck. Their bodies flushed together lightly whilst they basked in the sun’s amber-colored rays.
“I’m not good at dancing, Luca…” Edgar admitted with a softer voice. “Don’t make me look like a fool.”
“I’d never.” Quietly replying, Luca started to sway their bodies to the music. “Just a little back and forth never hurt anyone.”
They lovingly pressed their foreheads together to look into each other’s eyes. Edgar always thought Luca’s black eye was beautiful in its own way. There were different colors staining his skin that mixed together here and there, the markings from the electricity, the red color in his sclera from a broken vessel, and finally that beautiful broken brown iris.
Meanwhile, Luca was fond of Edgar’s brilliant blue eyes that reflected any color nearby. They often gave off the appearance of slight rainbow hues in the right lighting. Every time he looked into them, he swore he could feel the same emotion he felt when they first met. He wasn’t sure what it was like or anything, but it was a good feeling. Like his heart was being tugged in all the right directions and played like a harp.
They stayed like that, swaying to the rhythm for a while. It was nice to be close to one another. It reminded Luca to stay in the moment and love what they had.
“I feel silly doing this.” Edgar shut his eyes not long after in favor of pressing his head against Luca’s chest. “What if someone sees us? I’ll never hear the end of it. I don’t need some idiot belittling me for dancing with my boyfriend.”
“I mean! It could be worse!” Luca laughed lightly whilst tightening his grip.
“How so?”
A shit-eating grin formed on the “prisoner’s” face as he suddenly dipped Edgar down. “We could get fancy with it! I could spin you too.”
Edgar gasped in surprise when he was dipped down and sank his nails into Luca’s shirt. “What are you-”
“Like, I think I could do this!” He encouraged Edgar to let go of his shirt to twirl him around a few times in a circle. Then, he caught him with both arms.
“H-hey-!” The painter was angry at first but then started to laugh. He pulled Luca closer until he could snatch both of his wrists in his hands. “That’s enough of that!” Being spun around was actually quite fun. He wasn’t sure if he truly enjoyed it or not. The sensation of giddiness was still a little unnerving to him since he wasn’t allowed to act childish in his youth.
Since he had been with Luca, he found himself becoming more and more familiar with it though. Emotions weren’t his strong suit. They were uncomfortable and he often felt like life would be better without them.
Luca was always a catalyst for them though. Edgar went face to face with emotions he hadn’t really felt before. It was a journey he didn’t want to end.
“Come on, come on-” Luca pulled against his wrists with a smile. “Just a few more dips! Maybe I can throw you into the air like Aesop does with Joseph-”
“Hell no!” Edgar was smiling as he protested back. The thought of Luca even trying to lift him up was amusing let alone throwing him into the air. “You’ll get hurt, idiot!”
“Wanna try a different dance then? Maybe we can do that dance Naib does. Breaking dance, right? Or something? Do you think I can spin on my head?” He was teasing him more than anything else now. “Or, hey- look!”
The painter let go of Luca’s arms to watch him wiggle his hips back and forth with his arms moving around his head. He puckered his lips to blow Edgar a cheesy kiss at the end too. Edgar held back his laughter at the silly display with a shake of his head.
“What in the bloody hell was that?” He lifted a brow at Luca who was still moving around a little.
“It was Margaretha’s dance!! Right? Is that what it was? Or was it like this?” He wiggled his arms back and forth whilst his fingers flickered out.
“That’s Helena’s… Come on, cut it out.” Edgar stopped him by wrapping his arms around his neck again for a hug. “Hold me again and stop moving like a worm.”
“Aye, aye.” Luca chuckled to himself and hugged him back.
They spent time together chatting about nothing and moving together to the beat until Luca’s legs got tired. He sat down in a chair and Edgar propped himself up on top of a table.
The sun went down to end the golden hour quickly. It honestly felt like no time had passed at all. It always felt like it was a blur whenever they were together. They talked about everything and nothing all at the same time. It was wonderful…
At least, Edgar thought it was wonderful.
It was actually a little bad.
They had spent so much time messing around that they forgot about the eggplants.
The doors to the dining room opened as Emma came bursting in. She looked entirely distressed as she pointed in the direction to the kitchen. “Help!!! Emma sees a lot of smoke!!! Get help!!”
“Smoke? From a fire?” Luca carefully stood up and took Edgar’s hand to help him off the table. “Come on, we should find an extinguisher… What kind of moron set something on fire? This is bad-”
Edgar didn’t say a damn word. He kept his mouth shut and simply nodded in agreement. They were the morons. It was them. For sure. No one else.
That… could stay a secret between him and God though.