Chapter 25- Silent despair

Theodore's eyes caught the sunlight, the sharpness of his features magnified as a subtle glint passed through his gaze, making him appear even more imposing. His stare was so intense that it seemed to pierce through Noah, making his skin prickle uncomfortably.

"I-I'm sorry," Noah stammered, his voice barely audible. He quickly dropped his gaze, too afraid to meet Theodore's eyes directly, his heart pounding in his chest.

"It's okay, Noah." Theodore's voice was smooth, almost affectionate, but the smile that accompanied it was laced with an underlying chill that made Noah feel oddly small. Theodore straightened his coat with a slow, deliberate motion. "But be careful next time, alright?" he added, giving Noah a pat on the shoulder.

The touch was light, but it carried an undercurrent of authority, making Noah stiffen. The words, meant to sound reassuring, instead felt like a veiled warning. He nodded obediently, which seemed to only amuse Theodore further.

As if flipping a switch, Theodore's demeanor shifted. His posture relaxed, and his voice became lighter, almost jovial. "By the way, there's a new shopping plaza opening near the campus. We should check it out later."

Noah's chest loosened as the tension dissipated, and he sighed softly, feeling the weight lift from his shoulders. 'I guess he's not angry anymore,' he thought, feeling a quiet reassurance settle within him. He gave a nod in agreement, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Do you have anything planned for this evening?" Theodore asked lightly.

"I don't think so," Noah replied, shaking his head with a slight tremble in his voice as he met Theodore's gaze briefly.

"Perfect," Theodore exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he casually slung an arm around Noah's shoulders. "Let's meet around 4:30 at the front gate." His arm was comfortable yet firm, and Noah couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread across his face.

Noah glanced up at him, his cheeks flushing a soft pink. "O-okay…" he stammered, his voice trailing off as he tried to adjust to the sudden closeness.

'It's nice when he's in a good mood. He looks scary when he gets mad.'

They start to made their way back to their respective buildings, the lightness in Theodore's step making the air feel less tense but not quite dispelling the remnants of the earlier discomfort.

Though he hadn't done much all day, Noah felt as if his energy had been slowly drained by some unseen force. The exhaustion weighed heavy on him as he stepped into his room, barely noticing its quiet familiarity. Without a second thought, he stumbled toward his bed and collapsed onto it, burying his face in the soft fabric.

Jude was still at his desk, hunched over a book as usual, the faint rustling of pages filling the quiet space.

"Silas is out collecting bugs again," Jude said suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone carried a note of disapproval, though his gaze never wavered from the page. "That boy and his nasty habits. Tsk." He shook his head, his pen scratching quietly against the paper.

Noah turned his head just enough to watch Jude, marveling at how effortlessly the other boy could sit for hours at his desk with seemingly endless energy.

The evening sunlight painted the room in golden hues, illuminating the quiet diligence of the boy who always seemed to have his focus on a book. Jude's glasses glimmered as he pushed them higher on his nose, his fingers trailing over the lines of the book like they were sacred scripture.

After a moment, Jude turned his head slightly, as though remembering something. "They'll probably be back in an hour or two," he informed, his voice even. "Let's have evening tea then. There's a tin of biscuits in the drawer too."

Noah offered him a faint smile, though it was weighed down by guilt. "I'm sorry, Jude," he said softly. "I'll have to go out again later."

Jude nodded, offering no argument. "Alright," he replied simply and returned to his book without further question.

The room settled into silence, their worlds separate but coexisting. Noah lay motionless on the bed, lost in thought, while Jude remained immersed in his studies. Time slipped by unnoticed, marked only by the soft scratch of pen on paper and the faint hum of the wind outside.

- - - - - -

The door flew open with a sudden crash, slamming against the wall with a sharp crack. Kevin stormed in with an expression clouded by irritation, his footsteps heavy against the wooden floor.

Lucien followed silently, entering the room with the unhurried grace of a shadow, closing the door behind him in a smooth, deliberate motion.

"Did you do something?" Kevin demanded, his words cutting through the room like a blade.

Theodore, lounging casually on the sofa, didn't so much as flinch. A cherry dangled between his fingers, his posture so relaxed it seemed as though he hadn't a care in the world.

His focus was on the chessboard in front of him, his hand moving over the pieces as though orchestrating a silent war, each move deliberate but without urgency, the game unfolding at his own pace, unaffected by anything.

"I don't know," he replied, shrugging with an air of innocence that only seemed to fuel Kevin's frustration.

"You're not fooling anyone with that look," Kevin snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

Theodore bit into the cherry with an audible crunch, his teeth slowly sinking into its firm flesh. "How am I supposed to remember everything I do? I'm not a machine," he said nonchalantly.

Kevin groaned in exasperation and flopped onto the sofa beside Lucien, who sat silently, as still as a statue etched from shadow, exuding a quiet gravity that seemed to anchor the room.

Lucien's fingers drifted absentmindedly over the embossed surface of a pocket watch, tracing its details with a calm, almost distant focus.

"Woe is me," Theodore sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as though reciting a tragic monologue. "For charming everyone who crosses my path."

"You mean manipulating," Kevin retorted, his words dripping with disdain. "Tsk."

Kevin's frustration deepened as he leaned back against the sofa, pressing his fingers to his temples. "What am I supposed to tell Aunt Giselle when she calls? She's definitely going to ask why her daughters fought."

Theodore chuckled softly, setting down a chess piece on the board before him. "Just tell her you don't know. Why are you so worked up about it?" His tone was calm and detached.

"Easy for you to say," Kevin said through gritted teeth, shooting a sharp glare his way. "This all happened because of you."

"How is it my fault? Did I ask them to fight?" Theodore retorted, still focused on his game. His fingers hovered over the chessboard, his expression thoughtful as he pondered his next move.

Kevin sighed, realizing it was futile to argue and that it would only lead to more frustration. He sprawled out on the sofa and let his arm fall loosely to the side, closing his eyes with a resigned expression.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Outside, the rain began to fall in a soft, rhythmic patter, like nature's own lullaby. Raindrops slid down the windowpane in erratic trails, weaving paths like hesitant travelers unsure of their destination.

Lucien turned his head, his gaze following a single droplet as it raced downward. It caught the faint glow of the light inside, glistening like liquid silver before disappearing into the frame.

The wind picked up, howling as it pressed against the glass, making it shudder in protest. Beyond the window, the trees swayed wildly, their branches twisting and bending as though dancing to the chaotic rhythm of the storm brewing outside.

"Ah… right," Kevin said suddenly, lifting his head as though struck by a thought. "We need to go to Michael's room."

"Hmm?" Theodore hummed absentmindedly, his focus still locked on the chessboard.

"It's probably for one of his stupid game nights," Kevin muttered, slumping back against the sofa.

"Great!" Theodore exclaimed, his voice brightening as he made his final move. The knight landed with a firm clink, ending the game in a decisive victory. "I'll dare him to dance down the hallway in his underwear if he loses."

Kevin shot him a look of utter disdain. "You and your ridiculous ideas," he muttered as he stood, his movements smooth and deliberate.

"Why?" Theodore said with a grin, tossing another cherry into his mouth as he began tidying the chessboard. "People love me for my creativity."

Kevin didn't dignify him with a response, shaking his head as he walked toward the door.

Lucien slipped his watch into his pocket and rose from his seat. With a flick of the switch, he turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness. Only the faint glow of the storm outside lit the space, casting fragmented patterns as the rain continued its soft percussion against the glass.

As they walked down the corridor, Kevin and Theodore's voices mingled, their bickering barely audible over the chaos outside.

The sky, though still early in the evening, had darkened to an inky black, lit only by fleeting flashes of lightning. Each streak illuminated the world for a brief, surreal moment, throwing shadows across the walls before plunging everything back into darkness. Thunder followed, a deep, resonant growl that seemed to shake the very bones of the building.

The rain poured relentlessly, its sound a symphony of tiny drumbeats, each drop a fleeting performer in nature's chaotic orchestra. It pooled in the uneven cracks of the ground, creating shimmering mirrors that rippled with every fresh impact.

Beneath the cold iron gate of the campus, a small figure sat motionless. His clothes clung to him, heavy and soaked, as he leaned against the bars, his eyes distant as he listened to the rain's melancholic song— a hauntingly beautiful melody that contrasted with his silent despair.