Who Am I?

Upon managing to reach the end of the stairs without buckling and falling, he peered through the doorway into a sparsely furnished room. A worn sofa and an armchair stood in the middle of the space, a short cabinet with a phone parked behind the couch. But the boy's gaze was drawn to an upright piano in a corner next to one of the windows. A dark-haired stranger clad in black was sitting before it, his back to where the boy stood, clearly lost in the music. The blonde stood entranced, watching the graceful hands masterfully coax each beautiful note from the ivory keys.

Eventually, the song came to an end, a comforting resolution that made him give a small, involuntary sigh. However, this feeling of peace was short-lived, and the boy started when the dark-haired figure spoke.

"Debussy's Reverie. It was one of his earlier compositions, and although he later came to despise it, it's still one of his most well-received works." The dark stranger stood and turned around. "I hope it wasn't too jarring to your rest."

The boy's breath caught in his throat. Sleek and dark and tall, the pianist moved toward his guest with grace, a panther in its element. As he came closer, the boy saw that his host's eyes were silver. The apparition hadn't just been one of his dreams then.

"Who are you?" the boy murmured.

"You can call me Keary. We've already met briefly when you were last conscious, but it seems you're having some difficulty remembering things right now."

The words of the stranger—Keary—held no menace, which eased the boy's fear slightly, but his low, quiet voice made him shiver.

"How long have I been here?"

"Since the night before last. You were wounded and hypothermic in the snow, but you refused to go to a hospital before you fainted, so I brought you to my house. It's a good thing your condition improved, otherwise I would have been forced to disregard your wishes and bring you to a doctor anyway."

Searching his memory, the boy could vaguely remember the numbness from the cold, muffled words, and a dark silhouette against a blinding white backdrop. It must have been him. He spoke hesitantly.

"Thank you."

Argent eyes searched the cerulean ones. Catching one of the boy's hands in his, Keary trailed his other hand from the blonde's slender wrist to his elbow, causing goosebumps to rise on the white skin as he lightly pushed back the sleeve of the robe to reveal the raw red gashes underneath.

"Your wounds, they seem to be healing well now. But… it looks like my dear angel didn't care much for my hard work."

Amusement twinkled in the silver eyes. Then, as the boy frantically tried to find a response, Keary raised the smaller hand to his face, and very gently grazed the pale fingers with his soft, warm lips.

Instantly, the blonde flushed. He snatched his hand away, doing his best to suppress another shudder that ran through him. He was suddenly painfully aware of how thin the fabric of the robe was, and how naked he was underneath it.

To be trapped in a hall with a beautiful stranger, barely clothed in this flimsy, vulnerable gown…

Observing the smaller boy's discomfiture, Keary's smile widened for a split second before he turned away, releasing the boy from his gaze.

"So, who are you, Cardin Rasheville?"

"Cardin Rasheville?" the boy repeated hesitantly. The name was unfamiliar and awkward on his tongue. "Who is… Cardin Rasheville?"

"You. Or so I thought." Turning back to him with gentle askance, Keary reached into his pocket and tugged out a black cord. Holding it up it in front of the boy's face, he repeated the name softly under his breath.

"Cardin Rasheville…"

The metal pendant spun, catching the light and reflecting it into the boy's blue eyes. They widened.

A flash of sand-coloured hair flying back into my face… a deep-throated chuckle… the sweet scent of lavender… a voice screaming for me to run… struggling to cross a white field… falling face down, unable to move any further…

Cardin… Rasheville…?

The boy reeled backward as he was assaulted by the flashes of memories. Quickly, Keary moved forward to catch him, only to find that the boy slumped against him had fainted yet again.

...