Cyan P.O.V.

Seren struts across the room to take a seat on the edge of Draven's bed, who appears to be very displeased when he exits the bathroom. Fresh out of a shower, Draven stands frozen with a towel on his head. His hair's damp. A slight sheen rests atop his porcelain skin. His clothes stick to his muscular frame that I've often wondered--I bite my lip. My mouth runs dry. I squirm in place, unsure of where to look. I know where I want to look, but getting all worked up would be a very bad idea. Although, for me, it's always a bad idea. My brain's short circuiting, isn't it? Yeah... yeah...

Draven's orange eyes narrow on Seren, then drift to me in silent questioning.

"Don't look at me. I have no idea what the greasy grub-fuck is doing," I declare.

Seren doesn't respond nor react to my insult. He doesn't normally, but there's something in his brown eyes that tells me he didn't hear a damn thing I said. He's as vacant as a jar of cookies after the gremlins back home got their hands in it.

"Is there a reason you've invaded our room?" Draven inquires. When Seren doesn't respond, Draven approaches his bed to kick the crusty cabbage in the shin. Seren jolts. His gaze returns from lala land to focus on Draven, who repeats the question; "I asked, is there a reason you've invaded our room?"

"I'm sleeping here," Seren states the same words he spoke to me earlier, only without the murderous smile that made me glad I've been sleeping with a knife under my pillow.

"Are you implying that you plan for us to share a bed?"

"You could share Cyan's bed."

I would literally die, that murderous bastard.

"You lousy shit fungus!" I point accusingly at the bed stealer. "You can't storm into our room demanding we change our sleeping arrangements because of a reason you won't share."

"I can't imagine what reason would make a Paladin of the Holy Church rather risk sharing a bed with a vampire than a room with a dhampir," Draven adds. I try not to focus on how he's implying he would still share a bed with Seren over sharing with me. I tell myself it's because he's being courteous, but there's always a whisper in the back of all our minds that tells the most terrible things.

He doesn't want to be around you.

He's annoyed at the mere thought of how dramatic you'll be if he so much as grazes you.

He's disgusted by you.

"Did something happen with His Grace?" Draven asks after Seren doesn't respond, bringing me back to reality.

Huffing, the paladin rolls onto his side to face his back to us. "Nothing happened."

"Your actions and tone say otherwi--" Draven grunts when a pillow is launched expertly at his face. He manages to catch said pillow prior to it falling to the floor. "How mature of you."

"You can go share the room with Lore or stay here, your choice!" Seren kicks up the blankets and throws himself under them as if that will prevent Draven from tossing him out of the room.

Draven looks at me. Orange eyes as brilliant as flames make me short of breath as if this is the first I've seen them. Then he sighs, dropping the pillow in defeat. "So be it, although I cannot guarantee His Grace won't come storming in here to retrieve his original roommate."

"Tell him; if he tries, I'll shave his head in his sleep."

"Do I not get a say in this?" I ask with a raise of my hand. Draven walks by my bed to head for the door. I hurry to follow, narrowly catching him prior to stepping outside. "Hey, why am I babysitting shit for brains?"

"Because you two get along better--don't make that face. You know what I mean."

I continue making the face. "No, I do not. Explain."

"The two of you have more in common. Maybe you'll get him to admit to why he stole my bed."

And stole our evening together. It's not as if Draven and I are superb conversationalists, but it's time together nonetheless. I hate it. And I love it. I want less. And I want so much more. I wish to bask in this time together, but also run a thousand miles away. There's so much I want from Draven that it frightens me. What frightens me most is how he would react if he learned the truth because he doesn't want the same from me. I couldn't stomach the look of disgust or maybe even pity that he'd make as he tried to politely get me to fuck off.

"What if..." I clear my throat. "What if I don't want to interrogate him?"

"Cyan, your curiosity has always known very little bounds. It is your greatest strength and your ultimate weakness." With a devious smirk, he leaves. He didn't even grant me the time to contemplate whether that was an insult or a compliment.

...and he's right. I really am the worst when it comes to keeping my nose out of things. It's one of the reasons I had to leave the church. Knowing too much is sometimes as bad as knowing too little. Yet I dive head first into every question in hopes to find an answer because I'm a stubborn bastard like that.

"Saying nothing happened is the best way to inform others that something did happen," I say, almost wanting to pinch myself for not lasting more than a few seconds. I could have at least pretended not to care for a few minutes, but my mouth rarely ever coordinates with my brain.

Seren doesn't respond. There's a stiffness to his shoulders that I haven't seen since he first arrived at the estate. Over the time Seren has been among us, he has gotten more and more comfortable; physically comfortable. He stopped always reaching for the axe on his back when he heard so much as a squeak of a floorboard. He stopped searching for exits when outnumbered in a room. Tense shoulders started to relax until one might think he had never been uncomfortable at all. But that tension has started to return ever since...

"When you visited Trinia, did you talk to anyone?" I ask, observing that tension turn Seren stiff as a board.

Seconds pass, then minutes. I suspect he won't answer until he finally replies, "Yes, I spoke to Olere."

"The Champion?"

Seren peeks over his shoulder, revealing dark but inquisitive eyes. "You know him?"

"Only in name. You know how stories of champions passed around the trainees. And I might have seen him on the grounds once or twice, but that's it."

Seren rolls onto his other side to face me. Though his expression remains apathetic, it's far more telling than showing emotion. It says he's hiding far more than he's willing to share. "Do you..." He swallows hard. "Do you believe there are good people at the church?"

The question stumps even my mouthy self into silence. Maybe because I asked myself the same question years ago, when I was stuck at the church surrounded by people who raised me, but I so desperately wanted to leave. Then I would look at a friend who told me jokes, made me laugh and smile on dark days, and I simply couldn't imagine they were bad even after all I started to suspect about the church. Those same friends would condemn me now if we ran into each other. I'd like to think I'd give them the finger and tell them to fuck off, but I don't know if I would because...

"I don't think I believe in good and evil," I say. "I believe there are choices that depend on too many factors to count. We make those choices. Live with them. Hopefully learn from them. An evil person may be good to someone else. A good person may be evil to someone else. Most of us fall between those lines because life is a giant fuckfest that no one will ever properly navigate."

"Giant fuckfest?" Seren chuckles softly. "And here I thought you were getting philosophical on me."

"Not really my style."

"So it seems." His soft smile fades, replaced by a furrowed brow. His eyes search me for an answer I doubt I can give. Squeezing the pillow until his fingers threaten to rip the fabric, he whispers so quietly I strain to hear him; "Then, do you think if I... if someone like me were to leave the church, I wouldn't be an evil person running from the truth?"

Leave the church rings in my ears louder than those damned church bells that woke us at the ass crack of dawn. I stare for a long moment at Seren, who heaves a breath so heavy that it makes my own lungs ache.

"Am I not an evil man trying to escape a past that I don't deserve to escape from?" he adds with the most subdued whimper I've ever heard.

What the fuck am I meant to say? Hell, why did he have to reveal that to me? This is why I need to damn my curiosity to a metaphorical hell. I dug too deep and now he's expecting comfort or an honest answer that doesn't come to mind. The only words I manage to get out are a soft spoken question; "Are you really considering leaving the church?"

Because the Seren who arrived on our doorstep sure as hell wouldn't.

The silence he gives in return speaks more than words. I could pry more. I could poke the nerve he has exposed until it bleeds and blisters, but I don't because maybe very, very, very deep down, I've always wanted this to be the outcome. Seeing another view the Holy Church as what it truly is, freeing them from a place we were told to love because we had no other options, it feels good.

"I left the church too, remember?" I finally speak up, squirming under Seren's intense stare. "I was in your place once, striving to become a beloved member of the church that raised me--"

"But you stopped," he interrupts, a sudden coldness brimming in his eyes. "You left without going through the trials, didn't you? Before becoming immune to blight and... and the knighting ceremony."

Where you kill an orange or even gold eyed vampire in front of your peers to prove your strength.

"Have you ever killed someone?" he asks, expecting me to say no. I'm so utterly relieved that he doesn't give me the chance to respond, that he's so overwhelmed by his own issues that he doesn't hear the shudder in my breath. Even after this, I don't think I could tell him.

"I have killed plenty of times. Too many times to count," he whispers. Although his eyes are on me, they do not see me. They're looking at something else. "At first, I hesitated, but now it's natural. I take their breath away as easily as I breathe. And even if I feel guilty, I know I could do it again and again, and I'd still be damn good at it, because it's natural and it will always be natural. How can killing someone be natural?"

"Seren--"

"I'm tired, I... we should rest," he interrupts, returning to laying on his opposite side.

It seems my curiosity subsides when there's a chance another's curiosity may be piqued. The idea of speaking with Seren more and where that may lead zips my mouth up real quick. I turn to my side too, keeping our backs to each other in hopes he won't accidentally catch the expression I know I'm wearing. The expression of terror as I try not to shut my tired eyes because I fear what I'll see.

The man with crooked teeth. His lecherous smile. The stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Fire. Roaring flames. Dead eyes staring up at me.

I don't want to sleep.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

Cyan and Seren have had another discussion concerning the church. Seren seems to be seriously considering leaving. Will Cyan discuss this with anyone? Should he? And what kind of nightmare is he trying to escape? If you want more detailed backstories about Seren, Lore, and Cyan, I do have a few extra chapters available on my patreon. You can read them all for $2, so long as you read it in the month that you're subscribed to patreon :)