Chapter 3

“I really need to talk to you, do you mind?”

That made Elias slow down his pace to a leisurely stroll, and the other man followed suit, so fast it seemed as if his body were bound to Elias’s. He slipped the phone into the front pocket of his joggers. “I don’t mind.” He did his best to keep his tone unaffected.

Meanwhile, joy and confusion were twining inside his stomach, creating a strange fluttering feeling that was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

“Did you really see crows back there? Is that whom that dog was chasing after?” The man kept on glancing around, almost as if he were searching for something.

“Yes.” Elias recalled the man’s unusual reaction and he tilted his head in question. “Do you have something against birds?”

“Just crows.” The man grinned, flashing his white teeth. “I think I’m just a little bit too superstitious. But…” He waved a large, leather-bound book before himself. “I think I should go catch the last light before the nightfall if I still want to draw.”

Elias looked at the book. The material was scratched all over, reminding of a historical artifact rather than a sketchbook. But more than that, he could swear the man didn’t have it on him just moments ago.

I probably just don’t remember right, he rationalized, then asked, unable to resist, “So, you are an artist?”

“The best one you’ve ever met,” the stranger said seriously, but when Elias arched an eyebrow at him, he couldn’t keep his face straight any longer. “I’m joking.” He chuckled and then pointed towards the river bank. “I’m going over there to sketch. If you want, you can join me.”

He then turned and started walking, his every step an embodiment of confidence.

Elias hesitated. “You really don’t mind company?”

“Why would I?” He glanced back at Elias, smiling. “Now, are you coming or not?”

Despite himself, Elias couldn’t keep the smile from cracking his face, too. “Sure. Sounds like fun.” He dashed after the stranger, feeling as though something was pulling him at the man. An invisible force of sorts.

Or perhaps it was just the fact that he treated Elias like a regular person.

Either way, Elias’s heart skipped a beat. And suddenly, the world seemed just a bit brighter.

“What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking? I’m Elias,” he inquired when he reached the stranger.

“Alistair.” The man moved briskly, close to running but not quite yet. He avoided the trees and stones with expert agility, leaving Elias to do the same.

Elias didn’t mind. Instead, he took the opportunity to secretly admire the muscled toning of Aliastair’s body, boasting underneath the black cargo pants and a loose t-shirt. Those broad shoulders, that voluptuous ***.

And Elias couldn’t help wondering how they would feel under his fingertips as he would trail them over the ***** skin. Probably firm and hot. And so delicious.

Peebles crunched under their feet as they came closer to the moving water. They were the only ones in sight, the absence of other people making Elias feel as though they entered a fantasy world, full of wonder, rather than the creeping loneliness that was his usual companion.

The soft breeze, carrying the crisp scent of the forest, ruffled Alistair’s hair as he dropped down on a large rock, crossing his legs underneath him and making himself comfortable.

Intrigued, Elias looked over Alistair’s shoulder. He watched as the man flipped open his sketchbook on a blank page, and, after staring at the river, shimmering under the dying sunlight, returned his attention to the book.

The pencil that was suddenly between his fingers almost as if it formed out of thin air — which was a ridiculous thought, of course — started scraping across the thick, cream paper.

“Oh, wow. It looks so good,” Elias murmured in admiration just next to Alistair’s ear, completely captivated by the mesmerizing landscape forming under the sharp graphite tip. But even more so, by its creator.

Alistair flinched, and his pencil slipped, drawing a mismatched line. “Agh!”

Elias immediately stepped away, a twinge of guilt rushing through him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

He could feel his cheeks heating up.

“Don’t.” Alistair grabbed Elias’s wrist, pulling him back. “Don’t apologize. Just stay here,” he said, averting his gaze. His voice was strangely thick as though he were fighting emotions. But then, he withdrew his hand, and that devilish grin formed on his face once again as he met Elias’s eyes. “You know, so you can admire my amazing drawing skills.”

Elias could almost hear a thud in his chest. There was definitely more to this man than it met the eye. He had so many questions, but most of all, who was this man and why did he really want to keep Elias by his side?

He didn’t buy that excuse one bit, but he decided to play along nonetheless.

“Well, I’m not sure if I want to admire it just yet,” he teased, watching Alistair erase that offensive line. Where the hell did the eraser come from?

“Ouch. Your words wound me deeply.” Alistair dramatically pressed a hand to his chest. He then picked up his speed, moving the pencil over the paper with the speed that should be impossible. “But when you see this, you won’t be able to deny my amazingness anymore.”

“Oh, yeah?” Elias smiled, watching Alistair’s profile. He loved how his brows drew together as he concentrated on the illustration, how his lips slightly pursed. Those lips that Elias wanted to taste, so badly.

He forced his eyes to follow the strokes. On the paper, the scenery was transforming, with floating spots of light everywhere, like fireflies. And right in the center, a figure started to form.

The side of the head had long strands of light hair floating in the wind, obscuring the face. A pair of breathtakingly-beautiful, black, feathery wings were curved in front of the angel, in mid-flight. They were so big the body was completely hidden, save from an elegant curve of the feet.

It was so real, so life-like that Elias could almost feel the soft feathers brushing against his skin. Despite the summer heat, it made him shiver, little goosebumps breaking out across his arms.

Subconcuiesly, he rubbed them, almost as though he were hugging himself.

“This… You really weren’t joking about your skills,” he said quietly.

He watched how Alistair brushed a finger across the angel’s figure, so gently the lines didn’t smudge. “I told you, didn’t I?” The pencil and the eraser vanished once more — Seriously, what’s up with that?

And then, when Alistair lifted his eyes at Elias, the yearning inside them was too strong for Elias to keep resisting. “If you keep on looking at me like that, I’m going to kiss you,” he uttered, unfolding his arms and stepping in front of Alistair.

“Then I’ll never stop,” Alistair breathed, putting the sketchbook down on the rock beside him.

That was all Elias needed to hear.

Clasping the back of Alistair’s head into his hand, he leaned forward. His lips pressed against Alistair’s, first softly, as if he were trying out the taste. And then, he ****** his tongue in, licking and conquering the delicious inside of Alistair’s mouth.

To his surprise, it tasted just like oranges. His favorite fruit.

Alistair immediately responded. His hands flew up to lock on Elias’s nape, making an infinite number of tiny fireworks explode on Elias’s skin at the touch. The sensation of slight scraping of Alistair’s stubble against Elias’s clean-shaven cheeks coursed through him, like a gushing river.

“Mmm,” Elias moaned, the single sound an embodiment of all of his desires. He’s been starved of touch, of closeness, for so long. His mind clouded and the scorching fire spread through him. Suddenly, the kiss wasn’t enough.

He needed more. He was starving.

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