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Felix Lee sat back on the bench; his legs stretched across the carriage resting on the seat on the other side. He gazed out the window, not seeing any of the landscape they were rattling past. The rolling moors spread out around them, as if they were an endless sea of green and grey. Dead seas filled with loneliness.
The housekeeper had dozed off, her face pressed against the glass of the carriage window.
There was silence the entirety of the ride to Levanter Manor. The housekeeper introduced herself as Ms. McDougal at the train station and led the way to the carriage. When the carriage pulled away neither said another word.
Now they continued to wind back into the moor, twisting between large black rocks.
They hit an especially spiteful hole in the road and Ms. McDougal, thrown forward by the drastic rocking of the carriage, sat up and leaned to blearily look out the window.
"We are getting close." The words were so harsh and loud in the silence that had enveloped the carriage, Felix fought to not flinch. "The next bend will show you Levanter Manor on Haven Hill." Turning her cold eyes on Felix, she looked him over. "You have never been to the manor before, correct?" Her tone was sharp and informative, she was definitely not asking a question.
Felix replied anyway. "Yes. My father was never allowed, so I would never assume that I would be welcome." Felix had no desire to be polite to this someone who had no plan to show any kindness to him. She looked away from him and back out the window.
"Your grandfather was not one to forgive." And with that he understood that the conversation was finished.
The carriage rounded a sharp turn in the road and Felix looked out the fogged window and saw a large formidable dark shape of the manor on the hill. It somehow managed to look like it belonged there, like it had been carved from standing rocks in ancient times, always being part of the landscape.
An hour later, the carriage was pulling up a cobblestoned road and eventually through an old wooden gate. Exiting the carriage into the courtyard, he felt dwarfed as he gazed up at the stone wall that was laced with windows, alcoves, walkways, and turrets hanging above him.
His stomach curled and squirmed. He didn't know what to think, too many emotions coiling inside him.
There was dread. This was a place his father had been banished from before Felix had been born. Felix had been kept apart from his family, simply because of pride and grief.
There was excitement. These were the halls, rooms and gardens his mother had grown up exploring. His father had read her diaries to him every day growing up, embellishing the stories with his own memories. After his father had passed away, he had kept the diaries with him at all times, reading passages of his mother's words every night. This was where she had wished to raise him, but it had taken 19 years for him to step foot here.
There was sadness. He was here alone now, neither of his parents here to experience this with him.
There was fear. There was a reason he had been sent here, and it would only lead to a confrontation with his uncle that he wished never had to happen.
This was a new beginning, but he didn't know what that would bring.
Ms. McDougal stepped out after him and motioned to the footmen who had scurried out the front doors of the manor, they then turned towards his trunks, and hauled them in the doors.
"I will show you to your rooms. Follow me." He silently strode behind her, glancing back for one moment before going through the door. He saw just past the courtyard, fields and orchard with winding walled walkways.
Entering the dark entranceway he was stunned by how empty it felt. There was no warmth in the place. The manor was decorated to look regal and expensive but was devoid of any delicate beauty. He was led up a curved staircase, his hand tracing up the banister's smooth wood. The stairs ended on the landing of a wing of the manor that was made up of a long hall lined with numerous dark doors.
Ms. McDougal took out a bundle of keys and sorted through them for a minute. She slotted her selected key into the door's lock and turned it. Pushing the door open she motioned for him to enter. The room was double the size of the room he had at the academy, and he would have it to himself. What a change all of this would be.
"This was the room of Mistress Clara; we did not have much warning for your arrival. We will work to have a more appropriate room ready for you in the next week."
Mistress Clara. His mother.
Ms. McDougal shut the door behind her. Felix stood in the middle of the room, marveling at the room around him. The bed was draped in a deep green blanket, woven with red and purple. A large tapestry hung on the western wall, the image of a young girl standing within a circular fence. She was surrounded by flowers of different colors and kinds. Small deer and dogs ran around the outside. He remembered reading about the tapestry. His mother described how she would lay on the floor late at night and watch the image come to life as the warm light from the setting sun shone through her window.
He gently placed his valise on the window bench, opening it he rifled through and pulled out a small red fabric covered book. Felix moved to the bed, hopping up to sit, he opened the book on his lap. He flipped through the pages until he stopped on a familiar page.
"Today father has given me Grandmother's garden. I was able to step into it and stood where I shall plant so many beautiful living things. The walls are so tall and the garden so overgrown. But this garden is all mine, it will be my sanctuary and in turn I will pour my heart into it."
Felix held his mother's diary to his chest and laid back on the bed, staring up to the ceiling that his mother must have stared at. He would be here a while, which scared him. But the idea of stepping in his mother's footsteps was exciting. He could experience her diary in a whole new way.
He sat up quickly. The garden. He would find her sacred garden. Her secret.
Felix, tucking the diary along his back, in his belt, slipped out the door of his room and retraced his steps back down the stairs to the entranceway. Stepping into the courtyard again, he walked with purpose towards the gates he had seen earlier.
He would find his mother's garden.
Stepping through the gates he came across two small fields lining the path, sprouts had begun to burst through the rich brown soil. In front of Felix, at the end of the fields of gardens, rose a collection of tall walls curving and twisting, vines covering them.
"Mr. Devens?" Felix turned his head to see a young man crouched in a row of vegetable sprouts. His hands were paused in the midst of digging a hole. He stood and absently attempted to brush the dirt from his hands on his trousers. "The name is Christopher Chant. You must be the appraiser." He reached his hand out for Felix to shake which Felix responded to automatically due to his hours of training in manners. The minute he pulled his hand out of the other's he rubbed his hand against his pant leg to try and rid it of some mud.
Felix was debating how to break it to this energetic man that he was in fact not Mr. Devens, when Mr. Chant began walking down the path towards the walled gardens, talking fast.
“I can start showing you around the ground now. So, these are about a quarter of the vegetable gardens we have cultivated here at Levante. I live on site, and we hire usually around 2-3 other staff from the surrounding areas depending on the season to help work in the gardens. Any questions?" Mr. Chant paused momentarily in the midst of the gardens, staring back at Felix. "We grow a majority of what is cooked and eaten at the manor and even have extra for market." Looking again at the silent and possibly stunned looking Felix, he turned and continued chattering. "If you don't have any other questions, then we can continue on, into the more structured gardens." Felix followed Mr. Chant towards the tall stone walls. His heart began to race faster, he realized that the gardener was talking about his mother's garden. Maybe he could get to step inside... He decided to play along, and not clarify who he was.
"What is behind all the walls?"
Mr. Chant glanced behind him to meet Felix's eyes. Felix was temporarily distracted from his mother's garden by the man's smile. It was definitely just a professional smile, but it lit his face up as warmly as the summer sun. It was hard for Felix to pinpoint what he got stuck on, it seemed too simple to say that it was just that this man had so much kindness in his eyes. Something about him made Felix want to know him, to be near him, to be closer.
"Those are the central gardens, a few are still open. The previous owner, Lord Junhan Lee, had two of them closed permanently during his life. So far. The open ones, I can show you, are filled with fruit trees and one is where we keep the goats in the winter, but also where we plant most of the flowers for the summer. It's a balancing act when there's crossover."
Permanently closed. Felix's heart stopped.
"Mr. Chant, what is in the shut-off gardens?" He walked faster to catch up with Mr. Chant. Side by side they reach the curved paths that wound between the tall stone walls.
"Secrets, of course," and then Mr. Chant winked at him. Felix just sort of froze at the wink, unsure how to respond. Mr. Chant continued, "They're likely overgrown or dead gardens now. They were Lord Junhan's wife and daughter, when they passed away and left him, he refused for them to be touched. Melted down the keys and instructed everyone to never enter the gardens. But I heard they were quite impressive" They walked a little while in silence.
Felix wasn't sure how to process that. He knew his grandfather had mourned his wife's passing. His mother had mentioned it in her diary only a few times though. And he also knew how his grandfather refused to forgive his own daughter for the man she wished to marry. She had chosen Felix's father, a man her father had not approved of. He had no title, no wealth, and no status, Felix's grandfather was beyond angry. He never invited his daughter back to the manor after her marriage. And it seemed he wished all others to forget her. But then, why did her room stay untouched?
"Mr. Chant?" Felix raised his voice so that Mr. Chant, whose longer strides had placed him a few steps ahead of Felix, could hear him. The man slowed his pace and turned back to Felix. He had this ridiculously earnest look on his face, Felix hated the confidence and ease with which this man handled himself. "Can I ask, have you ever seen inside the garden?"
Mr. Chant hesitated for a moment, thinking. "My father never let me. When I was a little boy and when he was training me. And I've always listened to my father." But then… he winked again. This man was ridiculous. What was Felix supposed to gleam from that wink? “Also, don’t bother calling me Mr. Chant, most call me Christopher. Feel free to do so.” And far from professional, didn’t he think Felix was an appraiser?
As if he was listening to the bewildered thoughts of Felix, Mr. Chant continued to smirk at Felix. Christopher’s eyes flitted about as if taking all of him in finally.
"You're pretty young for an appraiser. And you're a lot more handsome than I expected." He started walking again.
Felix couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, sir." He hoped the blush he hadn't wanted wasn't visible.
They were about to turn down one of the walled paths when a clatter skittered across the cold ground, coming from the courtyard. Christopher glanced in the direction of the carriage wheels on stone and shook his head.
“Must be the grandson of the manor's lord. Heard he’d be arriving today. Apparently, he got into some trouble up at his school, the poor wee lad.” The gardener turned down the path.
Felix was glad he walked behind him; he could feel his face burning from shame. So, everyone had gossiped about it already. How much of his mess had gotten out?
Now on the path along the tallest inner walls, the vines had grown so thick that there were many sections where the stones were no longer visible. Felix slowed as he realized that the doors to the closed gardens must be covered by now, they were somewhere there still.
He looked after Christopher and realized he had kept walking at his fast pace and kept talking unaware of his distracted follower being left behind.
Felix jogged to catch up. "Sorry Mr- uh Christopher. What were you saying?”
Christopher glanced over his shoulder startled, broken out of his spiel. “Oh, apologies, I was discussing the tenants. But I have limited information on their property terms, Mr. Lammond has all the paperwork and details. All I can say is the individual who takes over has many basic repairs that should be looked to. I am able to maintain mine. But the more general tenancies don’t have occupant with the time or resources to fend for themselves.” Felix was unsure how to respond and simply nodded.
They had reached an end of the paths, it overlooked a widening moor, which expanded until it disappeared into a rolling mist. It could be seen as a barren landscape, but there was something in its simplicity that had so much beauty and grace. In the carriage it had seemed so bleak, but something had shifted in him.
Christopher was looking off into the moor, wistful, like he longed to be deep in the moors below them. He almost looked sad.
The moors that dipped and rose out before them, forming a mesmerizing landscape, it transfixed Felix. He felt like he could forget so much of his world, it seemed like magic hung in the air, much like the heavy mist that swirled among the hills and dells.
“Oh.” The word escaped his lips before he could stop himself. He noticed Christopher looked at him and chuckled out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t take his eyes off the land in front of him. A land that seemed to shift and writhe as clouds sped and twisted in the sky. “This is beautiful.”
“Aye, it’s hard to describe why I can never leave. This place has hold of my heart.”
The words sunk into Felix, soaking into his heart. They were like words he had read in his mother’s diary. She had spoken of the moors and the hold they had on her, she had wished to never leave them. But they had been torn from her, or her from them. Felix turned, his eyes big, to look at Christopher.
He had turned from the moor and was now staring at Felix, a smile barely visible on his lips, but his eyes still looked far away. But then those eyes roamed over Felix as Christopher took a step closer to him. The smile danced a little bigger on the gardeners lips. Especially as Felix didn't move back but stared back at the young man, frozen in place.
Christopher then tugged at Felix's coat lapels. As if he was simply adjusting Felix's clothes, but he also managed to tug Felix closer in. Felix stared hypnotized as Christopher’s breath puffed out between them like a wisp of smoke. For a brief second Felix thought he could feel the warmth of Christopher's breath on his lips. A feeling he knew he’d be thinking about all night. If he survived this.
Christopher was still holding on to his coat, his eyes searching Felix's face. But Felix broke the spell by grabbing his own coat under where Christopher's hands still clasped him. He pulled and adjusted his coat, which broke Christopher's grip, and stepped back just a few inches.
Christopher reached out and clasped Felix’s shoulders.
“You are very dashing, a bit too soft looking for a profession in law.” And with a soft gentle sideways smile he turned partly from Felix to look out over the moor. “The youth of today scare me, you’re all much stronger than you let on.”
Felix was far from strong, in fact he was about to fall on his knees and beg for another touch, another smile, another moment of closeness with this stranger. This man had done something to him. He hadn’t been ready for this.
They stood now, much closer, their shoulders brushing against each other. Felix struggled to breath. What would have happened if he hadn't taken his coat back.
"Mr Chant, sir?" An older man's voice cut into the silence. Christopher spun around.
"Yes, Mr. Lammond? How can I help you."
When Felix turned, he saw two older gentlemen standing under an archway of the garden walls. The oldest of the men, stooped with age, shuffled forward, motioning to the man standing behind him.
"Mr. Chant, I've brought Mr. Devens here to tour the grounds." The other man stepped forward, tucking his valise under his arm, his other hand held out.
"Good to meet you Mr. Chant, such a pleasure to be here."
Christopher looked to Felix, extremely confused.
"But then- Oh, good to meet you as well Mr. Devens." He stepped forward, his arm held out to shake the real appraiser's. Felix gave him his best apologetic smile.
The older gentlemen seemed to have finished examining Felix's face and was now walking towards him.
"And you must be Mr. Lee. I heard you had arrived, I'm Mr. Jonathan Lammond, the butler here at Levanter Manor." He shook Felix's hand with both of his. Felix noticed Christopher turn from his conversation with Mr. Devens and staring aghast at Felix.
Felix tried that apologetic smile again.
But Christopher, or Mr. Chant as he'd likely want to be called again, did not look back at him again and walked with Mr. Devens back towards the gardens, beginning his explanations again.
Felix returned his attention to the butler, who bowed and motioned for him to join him in walking.
"Sir, would you like to return to the manor with me, this chill can't be good for you after all your travel." Felix let Mr. Lammond escort him back, but Felix at least tried to ask the butler after his mother's garden as well.
"Mr. Lammond sir, do you know anything about my mother, Ms. Clara's garden?" Mr. Lammond, who had been talking of the hearty dinners the kitchen creates, grew solemn, his face becoming grave.
"Mr. Lee, we are not to speak of the closed gardens, your grandfather instructed we never mention them, so they may be lost to time."
"But-" Mr. Lammond brought up his hand.
"Sir, I implore you, do not ask us, it will only cause all of us trouble and grief. Your uncle believes in this mindset as well and he, like your grandfather, will not be tested."
Felix fell silent and barely listened as Mr. Lammond changed the subject firmly, now talking of hunting opportunities in the county. His eyes stung, he had never felt so close to his mother, being in her room, her home, seeing the world she had loved, and now for all her love of this garden to have been locked away and purposely forgotten, made him so angry.
He knew he would have to speak with Chris-Mr. Chant, for he had not been afraid to speak of the gardens. Maybe he knew more than he was willing to give on.
"The tapestry is starting to look like me, me trapped in my room. Tonight, I got so mad I went to rip it off the wall, but as I pulled at it, I noticed a door hidden underneath. The passage leads to the back servants stairs and to a few of the other rooms on this floor."
He kept reading this section from his mother's diary. He second guessed and then triple guessed his idea. But he couldn't stop thinking about Christopher, his mother's garden and Christopher's eyes on him, and that smile. That was beside the point though, Christopher knew something about the gardens.
Then making the decision he had bounced back and forth across his room all night, he got up, tucked his mother's diary in his belt against his back and approached the tapestry. He returned to grab the oil lamp and with his free hand pulled aside the tapestry. Transferring the tapestry to rest on his back, Felix's fingers traced along the wall. Sure enough, towards the center, a door's outline was there.
His fingers snagged and ran along the crease, and then he felt a thin, shallow knob. Twisting it and pushing with his arm, it began to budge. Putting all his weight into his shoulder against the door, the door listened to the unspoken instruction and swung open wider. He proceeded to almost trip over his own feet and fall to his death in a hidden passage behind a tapestry, but managed to save himself and his lamp.
Following logic, Felix made his way out of the manor. The servant entrance dropped him off in an area, skirting the gardens that he hadn't been shown. But a small cottage instantly caught his eye. It was built against the wall and the windows were glowing with soft light.
He shouldn't do this, what was he thinking? But then he rolled back his shoulders and forced his legs to move him towards what he hoped was the groundskeeper's cabin. He hoped it was Christopher inside.
Felix reached the door, and knocked before he could convince himself this was a stupid choice.
The moments that hung in the air as he waited. His stomach jumped and dove.
A voice came through the door, muffled and strained. "Yes?" And after a brief pause, "Come in."
Felix unlatched the door and slowly opened it. He immediately was ready to shut the door and run away. Inside was a scene that he couldn't fully process.
Christopher had folded himself over a small wash basin that lay on the floor. He was kneeling trying to keep his head positioned over the basin and upside down to stop soap and water running into his eyes. He had one hand tangled in his hair, scrubbing violently while the other poured cups of water over the base of his neck. Water splashed on the floor around him and on his trousers. It was a completely chaotic and messy scene. And somehow attractive, Felix almost couldn't stand this. The vision before him, Christopher kneeling in only breeches and a loose shirt, the warm glow of fire haloing around him, water dripping from his shaggy hair.
Felix stood there. He couldn't move. But also felt some need to try and help if he could, "Do you need some help?"
At the sound of Felix's voice, most likely one Christopher did not expect, the cup dropped still full of water into the basin below him. The splash and clatter spread the ring of chaos out further around Christopher.
"What- Why are you- How di- sir?" Christopher spluttered, tried to raise his head and instantly got water and soap in his eyes. He exclaimed in frustration and ducked his head again.
"Oh, I am sorry!" Felix began apologizing, he quickly closed the door behind him and decided to do his best to lessen the mess. "Here, let me help rinse your hair." He reached down and picked up the cup.
"Oh, uh thank you." Christopher mumbled.
He scooped out water from the bucket that was beside Christopher and gently poured it over his head. Without thinking much of it, his other hand began massaging the man's head to help get the soap out. It was instinct from helping the youngest boys at his school when they first arrived. He didn't always know how to do basic care, and he couldn't help but offer them some assistance. Christopher didn't say anything and complied quietly.
The feeling of Christopher's smooth hair between Felix's fingers made Felix lose focus. It was a feeling that somehow consumed him. He was hypnotized by the sight of the man’s hair drenched in water. Finally realizing he had long washed all the soap out, Felix looked around for a towel but didn't see one.
"Do you have a towel to use?"
"Yeah, I've got one." Christopher's voice was so mild, sounding embarrassed. He pulled one from under his knees. He quickly ruffled his hair and wiped his face before sitting back on his heels. He looked directly at Felix, a baffled expression on his face. An adorable look of confusion and curiosity. His hair began immediately to drip slowly onto his shoulder, soaking his thin white undershirt. Felix couldn't help but look down at the shirt, it showed the delicate outline of his waist, as the light from the fireplace and oil lamps shone through. He quickly looked back up to Christopher's eyes. That was a mistake as well. His face still looked lost. He was still just staring at Felix.
"I'm sorry for barging in, I'm sorry for coming. I don-" Felix cut himself off, and got to his feet. "I apologize for interrupting your evening. I'll return to the manor."
"No, wait." Christopher stood slowly, flicking the towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms as Felix froze. "Why are you here?" He was looking intently at Felix's face. His facial expression was such a mix, Felix couldn't tell what his feelings were.
"I just couldn't stop thinking about earlier today. Firstly, I wanted to come to say I'm sorry for lying and deceiving you."
"Are you actually?" Christopher raised an eyebrow.
"Yes but also no. I feel bad for lying," Felix rushed to the next part of his sentence. "But also, I was glad I got the chance to meet you, and you were kind, and I didn't want to ruin anything." Felix bowed his head ever so slightly, he looked back up with a small hesitant smile.
Christopher shook his head, but his lips lifted up just slightly. Or Felix could be mistaken, but he really wanted to see any kind of smile again from him.
"And the other reason you're here?" Christopher cocked his head slightly.
"The garden. My mother's." His brows furrowed slightly and then softened. "I've heard about it for so long. And when I came here, I had hoped to finally see it, and step into it. When I asked you, you at least talked about it, tried to describe it. Everyone else I've talked to tonight refuses to speak of it."
Christopher shifted his weight back, his arms still crossed. "So that's why you asked so many questions."
Felix nodded. "Do you think I can find a way in? Just to look inside for a moment." Against his will, his throat closed around the last words. He closed his eyes, frustrated with himself.
Christopher shook his head. "It isn't that easy," then he turned towards the fireplace. "Would you like some tea?"
Felix was caught off guard, and stumbled through a word at least. "Uh- Sorry?" Where was this going?
"I had been heating up some water and had plans for making some."
"Uh, yes Chr-Mr. Chant. I'll take a cup. Thank you, I do realize that I've fully invaded your home, very late at night." Christopher looked out the window as if looking at the time on a giant clock tower. Or maybe he was divining it from the measure of pitch blackness outside.
"Please, you must sit." He motioned to a chair that was sat in the corner and that was piled high with books and draped with clothes. Upon realizing what he had motioned to, he tripped forward towards the chair. He shoved it all off and turned slowly back to Felix, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, now you can sit."
Felix moved slowly towards him, passing him to sit on the chair. There was silence in the room, Felix watched the gardener, his hair still dripping and soaking his shirt, ready two mugs of tea. And then Christopher was in front of him with a mug of steaming tea.
"You can call me Chan." Felix looked up into his face and found a sideways smile there.
"Chant?"
"Chan, it's just a nickname. For people I like to call me." Chan winked, grabbed his own mug and dragged a chair closer to Felix's. "So the gardens. They may be able to be accessed." He leaned forward, a smug smile appearing on his face. "It is just that you've come so very late at night, and my memories are escaping me. I fear that all I can offer you tonight is some tea to soothe your worries."
Felix's face went slack, what was this gardener playing at?
"Excuse me?"
"My good sir, you are very handsome, and having you in my quarters this late at night is very delightful... But it can not charm me into remembering details of gardens I have been told for years to forget about."
Felix wanted to roll his eyes, but restrained himself. He took a long drink from the far too hot tea and glared at Chan. "So you intend to tell me nothing?"
Chan took a delicate sip from his mug, gazing unblinkingly at Felix. "I'm sorry sir, as I've said, it's too late for me to remember such things. We will have to continue later, but do feel free to stay here until tomorrow for when my memory returns." He took another sip and winked.
Felix almost gasped. This was not the direction he exactly imagined the night going. This day had been far too exhausting to continue banter with someone who seemed to have become determined to be impossible. Felix took another swig of the tea and stood. Chan stood with him.
"Oh, please. Don't let my crassness chase you out so early in the evening."
Felix strode past him, placed the mug on the table and walked to the door. His hand on the nob he paused to say. "Well I shall find you in the morning for this miraculous return of your memories."
"I very much look forward to it." Felix noticed that Chan gave him a small bow, just as he shut the door behind him and made it way back to his room. Furious, flushed and not sure what to think or feel. What had just happened?
Felix woke the next morning with much determination. He took breakfast in his room. Dressed and immediately escaped the manor and made his way to the gardens. The fields were empty. No Chan. But as he came to the walls and rounded the corner the same way they had walked the day before, he saw him. He was confused and frustrated and mad and flustered all over again.
Chan leaned back against the ivy-covered wall. Both of his hands rested on his shovel.
"Can I help you, Mr. Felix?"
Felix walked closer; he studied the man in front of him. He was the most frustrating puzzle.
"It depends. Did you happen to remember anything about the gardens?" Felix wanted to scream at the smirk that came across Chan's face. He leaned forward, his chin resting on top of his hands and he squinted his eyes. He looked as if he was considering what he wanted to reveal. Like he was fully ready to bargain for any morsel of information for this garden. Felix hated that he felt so desperate to know. Like he was willing to do anything, to just hear the smallest thing about it, the smallest possibility he could enter the garden. The garden that now felt sacred to him.
"I may have, but the question remains. What will you be giving me in return?" Felix noticed Chan's eyes never wavered from his face, but they lingered on Felix's lips. He was sure of that and that made Felix realize. He had a bargaining chip.
"What would you even need from me? Money? You know it's all my uncle's. A promotion? That would be my uncle's choice, and it would depend on you doing your job." He paused two feet from Chan, crossing his arms over his chest. He opened his eyes wide in feigned innocence. "I don't know anything that I have that you would even want..." He raised his hand, and making sure Chan still hadn't taken his eyes off of him, Felix traced his thumb over his bottom lip.
Chan gulped and licked his lips, his smirk faltering. Felix's bargain was accepted. He took the two steps forward that closed the distance between them. The young gardener stood up straight and pushed the shovel away, letting it fall with a clatter to the cobblestones of the garden path. His expression had changed from one of some confidence to one of anticipation, like he had been waiting for what Felix did next.
Felix grabbed Chan's vest in his fist and tugged him close. He kissed the man's lips, letting his eyes close as he felt the other's lips against his. They were cold from the brisk morning chill but they instantly responded and Chan was kissing him back. The warmth from Felix's lips quickly spread as he moved his lips with Chan's. Hands pulled at his neck and waist, and he fell back with Chan into the vines on the wall. Their bodies were pressed against each other. He could feel the heart of the other man, beating just as fast as his.
Felix was surprised when all of a sudden Chan sucked at his lip and bit it. It startled him enough that Felix pushed his hand against the gardener's chest. He tried to not shutter at the feeling of Chan's teeth dragging at his bottom lip as Felix moved away. Separated, their faces were mere inches away from each other.
This gardener who was so endlessly annoying, now stared with so much desire at Felix's lips. Like he didn't plan on letting go of him.
"So? Do you remember now?" The sound of Felix's deep voice, raspy and a bit out of breath, seemed to wake Chan up a little. His face looked confused, like he forgot what they had been talking about?
"Huh? What do I remember?" His eyes flicked up to Felix's. "Oh, uh- yes." He cleared his throat, "I can show you the garden."
"Really? It was that easy?" Chan's face fell, as if he was hurt by Felix's words. But Felix knew that this gardener didn't actually care about him. He was likely just horny. He probably just liked Felix's face. He was probably just sad that he wouldn't get any more kisses out of Felix. The bargaining was done.
"I guess." Chan pushed Felix the rest of the way off him. And turned to walk down the path towards the orchard.
A shout stopped both of them and they whipped around in the direction of the manor.
"Lee Felix!? Felix!! Come here this instant!" Felix froze in fear, unable to move. His uncle was home. And his uncle was not happy with him already. He knew what had happened. His uncle had heard from his school. He had found out what happened. Or at least the version that the school chose to share with families.
A hand wrapped his wrist. He unfroze to look down at the rough hand that gripped him. It was the hand of Chan. And before he realized what was happening, he was being pulled along the garden path. He let it happen, blindly following Chan, he tripped over his own feet in his panic. He watched the path behind him, fearing that he'd see his uncle's tall figure.
Chan released his arm and Felix looked around for him but just like that he was gone. Felix was alone on the garden path. Vines covered the walls on either side of him, gnarled branches tangled above him, the trees reaching across the path from different gardens. The walls seemed to be closing in on him.
"Lee Felix, come!" He heard his uncle’s shout coming from behind him, he looked down the garden path that stretched from him towards the manor.
He was grabbed by his vest front and pulled towards the wall. Felix thought for a second that he was about to be slammed into the old stone wall, but instead passed through tangled vines which ripped at his face and under an archway. He turned his head and saw that it was Chan who had pulled him through a door in the wall. Now he was slamming the door close behind them, and turning a key in the lock. He turned back to Felix and grabbed his arm again, pulling him further in.
Felix finally took in where he was. A wild garden expanded out around him. Rose bushes had become tangled towers, the ground had a thick layer of many colors of flowers growing at random. The trees were even in bloom, growing over the walls and their blossoming branches bent into arches over the flowered ground.
Chan and Felix ran through the flowers, Felix's eyes were wide in amazement as he struggled to take it all in. They bent under a gothic stone arch which was streaming with lavender wisteria blooms. Behind the arch, Chan pulled him against his chest and whispered his ear, his warm breath tickling him.
"We'll be safe here. He doesn't know about the garden."
Felix looked up at the gardener, who was holding him so gently, so safely. "Is this the garden? Is this her's?"
Chan smiled and nodded. His arms tightened around Felix. Felix almost started laughing. He had made it into his mother's garden.
He pulled away from Chan just enough to look at him, nose to nose. "Why did you bring me here?"
"I may act cocky, but I'm not cruel. I know your uncle and his temper, I know about you and being expelled. I also know of course how much you want to see this garden. And, you may just be cute enough that I want to see you smile." Felix complied and smiled at him. This gardener thought he was cute, huh? Staring at him again, being this close, he couldn't stop thinking about how he'd kissed him. And how it had felt good. And how he wouldn't mind if he kissed him again, was it crazy to think that Chan may just kiss him back.
He could still hear the shouts of his uncle. But they were quickly fading into nothing as he continued to stare at Chan. Felix leaned in, his eyes locked on Chan's lips.
Chan's lips were momentarily concealed as Chan's tongue licked them. Felix flicked his eyes up to Chan's. Chan was looking right into his eyes, observing him. He winked when Felix's eyes locked with his. Chan broke the silence.
"May I?" He said it so gently, his voice husky with his whisper.
Felix just nodded, the smallest movement, but it acted as a small stone beginning an avalanche. Chan dipped down, his lips pressing firmly to Felix's. His right hand reached up, cupping Felix's face. He was kissing Felix like he wanted to eat his lips. But Felix wanted a taste, so he pushed back at Chan and returned his kisses, noticing that now Chan's lips were warm. Warm and full, and without a moment of hesitation he grabbed Chan's lips with his teeth. He had never kissed anyone this long. He had never really wanted to. But no one had ever kissed him like this. None of the boys who had kissed Felix at the academy had wanted any affection beyond a shallow kiss and a hand on their cock.
Chan responded to him biting his lip, his hands moving to pull him closer, tighter. The smallest moan escaped Chan, encouraging Felix to keep going. He sucked on Chan's lip and wished there was a way to consume him.
Felix didn't know what was happening. This man was handsome and kind, but when they kissed it was like Felix became possessed, he never wanted to stop, he only wanted more and more of Chan. Felix ran his hand up Chan's chest and unthinking as he began to unbutton the man's vest and shirt. He was thinking, he was only thinking of how he could touch more of Chan's skin, he needed to feel his warm skin under his hands.
Chan, his lip released momentarily from Felix's teeth, pushed in and grabbed Felix's lip in turn. He sucked at it and tugged at his lip to pull him closer. To pull him almost on top of him.
Then Chan grabbed his shoulder and waist and twisted their bodies until Felix's back pressed into the stones. They pressed into him, jagged reminders of the real world as the feeling of Chan's lips now on his neck made him forget everything. A moan escaped Felix, and Chan pulled away from him. He gave Felix a smirk and kissed him again. He pulled back and hovered there, inches from Felix, their warm breaths mingling in the crisp air between them. They breathed deep and fought to catch their breath.
Felix glanced down at the work he'd started, Chan's vest and shirt hung open. Chan leaning into Felix allowed a silver chain threaded with a locket to swing free, no longer concealed beneath his buttoned shirt. It was the same one that Felix had attempted to not notice last night. Before he could stop his mind, the images flashed in his mind of Chan; him sitting there, his body silhouetted in his own shirt. It was a painting, photograph, and a dream that haunted Felix.
Now, here in this garden, shut away from the rest of the world he reveled in how close they were. Felix reached out a finger and placed it gingerly on Chan’s sternum. Felix stared at his own finger as it slowly traced up Chan's chest, reaching his neck. Felix looked up at his face. Chan was gazing back at him, his lips were still parted, he still breathed deeply. Felix’s finger continued to move up the side of Chan’s neck until he reached Chan's jaw and his hand spread like a web being woven. He held Chan’s face tentatively in his hand, treating this precious face like it was fragile; scared of breaking the spell that was on them.
“Stay with me.”
Chan’s response was pressed into his lips.
I will .