A/N: Stunning cover was made by @Catachino. Please give her all the love and kudos in the world! And yes, eventual boyxboy romance is in this story. If that isn't your cup of tea, consider this your warning.

Charles Adler, heir to the magnanimous Adler Steel corporation and dressed to the nines in a tailored ebony dress shirt and slacks at age nine, encounters his to-best friend Lindsay Cordell under the wide circular table reserved for the visiting Danish royalty and buried wrist deep in blueberry pie. At the celebration of the Danish coronation, no less!

He had only noticed something amiss with the table as he passed by, hovering at his mother's dismissive hip.

Scowling at the polished wooden floors and desperately wishing he was home, Charles accidentally spotted a pair of expensive pink slippers dart out from beneath the silken cloth before they scuttled hurriedly back into the inky depths.

It peaked his curiosity and the potential mystery seemed far more interesting than watching his mother flush and flatter under the scrutiny of royalty.

With the company at the table thoroughly distracted, Charles crouched down by the table and scuttled underneath the expensive silk and into the waiting darkness, prepared for any number of terrifying monsters or mysterious strangers awaiting within. He was not, however, prepared for the terse scowl of an older child (a girl, Charles noticed, wrinkling his nose), dressed in an ivory dress lined with pearl frills and layered with a soft petticoat.

What was most surprising about the poorly lit picture (courtesy of the lack of light piercing the fabric surrounding them) was the fact that the scowling mouth was stained a distinctive shade of blue. As were her fingers, Charles noted with surprise, which were currently buried within the crust of what seemed to be a blueberry pie.

"Are you going to tell?" The girl asked before sticking her fingers in her mouth to clean them, eyes glinting with suspicion.

She was prepared to argue with him on this matter, challenge him, even in the face of the influential Adler crest sewn proudly into the collar of his dress shirt.

She was interesting, this girl. Most of the other children cowered before him, lessons from their parents about who was to be respected and who was not likely echoing off the walls of their empty minds.

"What's your name?" He countered, liking the spark in her eyes. To steal a pie like that, clearly unnoticed, was truly a feat worthy of his respect. The fact that it was a blueberry pie only increased Charles's admiration. It was clear she possessed good taste, matching his own preferences like that.

The opposing scowl deepened in response to Charles's widening grin and the girl offered no response.

She then sniffed and turned back to her pie, evidently dismissing him as no threat to the security of her treat. It was deeply offending, if very brave.

Charles's grin sharpened further as he searched for a suitable thread to layer his tone with. Gold, he decided, a girl as interesting as this was more than worthy of his best effort. With others he had to do nothing more than layer his tone with copper, malleable and susceptible to interference, and they would bend as easily as straw. Disappointment after disappointment.

This one, he supposed, was worthy of a greater effort on his part.

Perhaps something simple to begin with?

"The girl took her fingers out of the pie." He intoned at the other child, a single thread of golden persuasion intertwined seamlessly into the words. He watched as the child frowned, resisting, as her brow furrowed  in confusion. Charles felt as though the grin would split his face in two. This girl was so, so cool.

"Stop that," The girl said, flinty eyes flickering towards him for an instant before returning to her treat. "I don't know what you're doing but whatever it is I'm not going to...do whatever you want."

So cool.

Charles added more threads of gold to the words this time until it was a decently sized string threaded throughout his  tone and layered with honeyed promise. Give in. Give in. It would be so easy to just give in. Why resist? It isn't as though I'm asking for much?

"I said," He began, fingers tingling with excitement as he leaned forward. "The girl took her fingers out of the pie."

His chest feels tight with pride as he watches stained fingers withdraw from the heated crust, tremble uncontrollably as the girl gaped. She trembled silently, staring at her hand as Charles's command over her limbs trickled away, before turning and punching him square in the nose with that same hand.

Charles squealed as pain blossomed from point of impact and lashed out at her his feet, sending the girl tumbling gracelessly into the remains of her treat. This earns him another sharp blow to the ribs and more than one painful pinch before the entire thing dissolved into a messy scuffle with far too many tears, torn cloth on both sides.

Angry now and unsure as to why he ever wanted such a nasty girl as a friend, Charles managed to haul her off of him where she had been trying valiantly to pull his hair and shoved her out of the darkness of their hiding spot and onto the floor of the party.

He almost wishes she will be trod on by a pair of those monstrous heels women always seemed to wear at events like these.

He's already halfway out from underneath the table before he starts thinking about what he's doing, revealing himself like this to all these people, and going to pull the girl's messy blonde curls in retaliation before he is roughly manhandled away by his mother. She scolds him softly and scathingly, promising severe punishment, but he doesn't hear her.

He's focused on the older girl with her frizzy blonde curls and stained azure mouth. On the remnants of frightened tears staining her cheeks and soft sheen that still shines in her eyes (woeful blues, soft greys and mossy greens, the colours of bubbling storms...).

She's scared of him.

Ice hollows out his stomach and Charles wheezes for air, breathless.

No. No. He never meant to frighten her. She was just...He wanted her to...He doesn't know what he wanted to accomplish now, doing that. Maybe impress her, draw out some of that respect he wanted from someone so strong-willed?

Never to make her fear him!

Panic makes him reckless and he sways, unsure and anchorless, as he gazes pleadingly at the girl. He lurches unsteadily towards her, unsure of what to say, and nearly cries when she flinches and turns her back to him, seeking comfort in the solid form of her livid father.

"Are you-" He begins shakily, throat parched and tight as he tries to blink away the tears making his vision swim.

He tries again.

"I didn't mean to-"

No. No lies. If he wanted to approach this girl again and expect something more than disinterest and disgust it might be best to begin with honesty.

Honesty is appreciated so long as it benefits another's interests, Charles.

This course of action should ease some of pain from the bruises and benefit her in the process, shouldn't it? Apologies eased pain and mended broken trust.

"I'm sorry," Charles mumbled to the turned back of his would-be...acquaintance? Potential companions were called such weren't they?

The other child doesn't reply and if anything seeks to burrow her frame deeper into that of her father's, all scarred and aged countenance lined by grey, wisp-like hair.

Charles's mother draws him tighter to her side, icily poised, her polished and perfectly manicured nails digging painfully into his shoulder.

She promises a severe reprimand on her son to the father and begins steering Charles away from prying eyes and whispered gossip. Away from the only interesting person in the room.

Charles has never felt so ill in his life as he stumbles away from the scene, intensely regretting eating the rich chocolate bonbons that only now seemed to aggravate the turmoil in his gut.

His mother is still hissing sharp words tinged with disappointment and anger in his ear but Charles can't bring himself to care.

The tears brimming behind his eyes spill over without his consent and Charles decides that this, without a doubt, is the worst day of his life.