Alone once more in a house too large for you, you decide to head to bed to ignore the passage of time which seems to crawl in this manor

Opulent pictures of your father and mother hang on the walls of the hallways, yet the dust on them is yet to be cleaned, makes sense, it’s only you afterall, Settling into your large bed you can’t help but ponder exactly how your parents went from poverty to leaving behind such a place in a mere 4 years, but regardless that’s not something you’ll get an answer too so you merely cast away your doubt and attempt to fall asleep

Everything in the night is silent besides for the storm raging on outside, infact soon enough you begin to feel a tinge of comfort in this otherwise cold house, atleast you nearly do

If it weren’t for a cold blade you feel pressed against you

As lightning cracks you barely make out the figure of a beautiful boy, in clothes not suited for being an assassin, wearing the coldest expression you’ve ever seen