(It's been a few weeks.)

"Hey, Seto?" says a voice he knew too well, yet it sounded so, so different. He turns and flashes a small smile. "Yeah?" the sorcerer complies, the butterflies starting to flutter around in his stomach.

"Where should I put all this potion stuff you need so much? The usual chest is already full."

(A few weeks since his life started to get confusing. Started to become eventful. Started to have color. Started to twist his insides. Started to make him question himself. Started to make him feel a convoluted sense of happiness.)

It had been strange, those first few days where he didn't have the usual attire he always wore and when he'd been so uncharacteristically quiet and scared, flinching at every quick movement he would notice in the surroundings. His caramel eyes far from the sparkling confidence and boldness Seto remembered him to have.

(Started to make him fall in love again.)

After a while, he began to trust him. Began to feel comfortable in his presence. The sorcerer didn't mean to, of course. In fact, he almost didn't help him that mob-filled night. The hatred still running deep in his heart and veins. Seto supposes it was the eyes that got him. Grime-filled tears falling down ashen cheeks as wide, tired, and terrified eyes looked up to him. Eyes begging for help as he helplessly struggled to stay awake and hopefully survive. Seto was just as surprised when he made the decision to help him, when just a moment ago he would have gladly left him there for dead.

Still.

It warmed his heart to see him let a smile slip from now wary and guarded lips. To see that lovely and real smile that the magic user used to be the cause of, back in the days when life was simple and everything had only been pure fun and hearty games with beloved friends.

"Just craft another chest," Seto tells him, "I think we still have some wood somewhere, I remember seeing them when I was getting coal for breakfast."

"Alright," he hears him reply, light and feathery steps hitting the wooden floor rhythmically. When the sound of footfalls became softer and farther away, the sorcerer brings his hands to his face and lets out an exhausted sigh.

It's been a few weeks since Seto had taken an amnesiac Mitch under his care. And he loathes how much he finds himself liking –no, loving- the same man who caused him so much grief all over again.

*-that i sorta like SetoSorcerer x BajanCanadian?? 

no??

well now you know

*also, lmao, i wrote this cause i was trying to get my "writing juices" up so that i could type a chapter for either Clandestine or Young Again lol

it's not very effective thus far but i DO know what i want to happen in the next part

...i'm just not feeling them right now i guess

well that and i'm lazy haha XD