Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Dariel often wondered where his trust issues began.
His first life ended as an accident—no one was to directly blame, and yet when he awoke again, he blamed everyone he saw for not saving Annette and little Sparrow.
He never learned how he was made; had to figure out how to navigate this new world alone, but he blamed everyone he saw for that too. He was lonely for those first few years, kept himself away from the world, because he thought himself a monster.
He sometimes blamed himself for their deaths, even though he wasn’t even there when the flames began.
When he decided to ‘die’ for the second time, he fled the country. He’d spent over a decade learning to live with his losses, working and learning how to survive again, but once he realised he was never going to age, he wanted to start entirely anew.
He’d heard America was the place to be in the early eighties, so he found himself a small home in New England. By the middle of the decade, he’d moved to New York, decided to flaunt his youthful body, and have some fun.
This was where his trust diminished even more. He got to learn a lot about people very quickly as they invited him into their beds.
Some were kind, treated him well, while many others had him kicked out onto the streets as oblivious and uninvolved partners would walk in and blame him for spreading all sorts of diseases—some entirely made up.
To men, he was their little secret. To women, he was a porcelain doll.
It was an awful time, really. Dariel watched people he’d begun to consider friends die all around him.
He watched as the news painted all sorts of false narratives on big screens, communities falling apart.
People being thrown out onto streets and denied health care as though they were sub-human.
He watched as those in power allowed the AIDs pandemic to spread and spread for years, always prioritising other things, never their own people.
But he also watched communities come together. Rebuild. Love, unconditionally. He joined in with marches, built new friendships, and met so many incredible people as the eighties turned into the nineties.
He always blamed himself for not being able to save anyone, though.
For not having the power to cure and make things right.
He’d been cursed with this condition, but he couldn’t share it.
Couldn’t burden anyone else with the loss of humanity.
He refused to take away that autonomy, just as someone had done to him.
Why was he chosen to live, time after time? Why him?
A handful of years before the new millennium, Dariel learned he possibly wasn’t alone.
It happened in a flash, one so quick he would always doubt whether he’d been mistaken, and he hoped he’d find, in time, that he was wrong. It was easier that way. But through all the pulses and sounds of the bustling city, that blond haired stranger did not possess a heart.
He was sure of it.
But they were gone in an instant. Oblivious to Dariel’s existence.
He couldn’t even trust his own mind. Maybe time would naturally take it from him.
Or, time would gift him.
“There we are, make yourself comfortable! Dariel, this is Athens. Athens, meet Dariel. Dariel is to be my personal designer, and Athens, you are of course going to help me make this house look and feel like a home again. I’m glad you could both make it. I’ll let you two get acquainted!”
Godwin was in and out of the room as if his life depended on it. His cheery self left barely a shadow behind him as he closed the door, leaving Dariel alone with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
It was a quick and bold realisation—he was aware of that.
But his anger at Godwin for neglecting to inform him of this guest was immediately quelled the moment Athens stepped through the door with straight, shiny black hair with red strips flowing past his hips.
He had piercing light blue eyes ringed with the blackest eyeshadow known to man, and his full noir ensemble of vinyl, low cut jeans, and a buckled vest top over mesh clung tightly to his slender frame.
But the gentle, and equally confused expression painted on his face as he entered eased Dariel a tad.
That, and the fact Athens was dead.
Like him.
Dariel swallowed the lump in his throat, watching the embers light up the side of Athens’ body as the other man stood staring at Dariel, reading his face, and forcing Dariel to readjust himself on the chair, worrying he perhaps did not look his best. The tension was again only hand crafted by Dariel, as a moment later, Athens burst out into laughter.
What? Is there something on my face?
Athens threw himself on the chair opposite Dariel in a severely relaxed manner, tightly crossing one long leg over the other and stretching his arms around the back of the sofa, owning the room.
His eyes did not leave Dariel, and a warm pool formed in Dariel’s stomach; his lungs forgetting how to function.
He took in the other man’s body once more, noting a swirling floral pattern under the mesh of his left arm.
He wondered if it was part of the material or inked into his pale skin.
An abundance of silver jewellery adorned the man’s whole body, clinking as he shifted in the chair.
Then Athens spoke. A voice so smooth and calming when he asked, “Do you think he knows?” His eyes shone like turning diamonds, and Dariel noted the gap between his front teeth.
Dariel leaned back as panic and overwhelmed sensations infected every bone in his body. His breath hitched as he opened his mouth. “I’ve never met anyone like me before.” He gulped to ease his throat.
Athens cocked his head, then his face dropped slightly, and he leaned forward, lines of tension in his brow. “What? Really?”
“I…no. Never.”
“Who made you?” A question no one had ever asked Dariel Hale, or any of his iterations, yet it flowed out of Athens as if it was the simplest of curiosities.
Dariel’s chest constricted once again. “I… I don’t know. I never saw… I—” Flames. Burning. Burning. Burning. Everywhere. Forever.
Athens’ brow loosened in sympathy as he leaned his elbows on both his legs, sincerity radiating from his exquisite form. His chest rising and falling normally.
Relax, John. Just breathe, my beloved.
Dariel shook his head vigorously before the shadows came, then sniffed in, pressing fingertips below his eyes just in case. “Sorry. Yeah. Wow. This wasn’t expected. At all. It’s been a, well, it’s been a very odd evening for me so far.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Athens’ mouth. “I take it he didn’t tell you I’d be coming? He didn’t tell me you’d be here, either.”
Keep the conversation normal, come on.
Dariel sighed out a relieved laugh. “It seems he has kept a lot of things secret.”
“Tell me about it. I get an email asking me to come here to help plan out the interior of his home for an exceedingly pretty amount of money, but now looking at the size of it, I feel as though I should have pushed for more.” Athens had a sweet laugh.
“I wonder what the urgency is, he came across pretty desperate,” Dariel said, trying to sound casual.
“Wild, really. Mid-life crisis, I reckon. I wonder if I’ll get one of those soon.” Athens picked at his nails, then looked up through his lashes to see if Dariel was looking.
All Dariel could do was gawk as he took in Athens’ form for the third time, fully enamoured.
“So do you think he knows, then?” Athens continued to look at his black nails, silver rings adorning each finger. Silver always bothered Dariel, made him turn out in a horrible, burning rash. Always burning.
“Huh?” He hadn’t processed Athens’ words.
The other man looked up, cocking a brow. “About us? Who we are?”
“Surely not.”
“A coincidence, then?”
“Definitely.” Dariel gulped again, noting the lump in his throat was there to stay.
Athens shrugged then relaxed back into the chair once more. “Stunning building, right? I wonder how he wound up here.”
Dariel chewed at the inside of his mouth. “I tried to ask him, but we didn’t get much of a chance to talk, I’ve only just got here myself.”
“That was your bag in the lobby? I thought I could sense the blood. Fox, right?”
Dariel nodded.
“Hmm. His staff haven’t been doing their jobs then.” Athens laughed, and Dariel wanted to join in, but it only made him more unsettled.
“They’re not here,” he blurted out.
At this, Athens threw him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
Dariel straightened his back, choosing to lower his voice for some reason. “The staff. He sent them all home for a few days. We’re the only ones in the building.”
Athens made the shape of an ‘oh’ with his mouth, his face tense. “How odd.”
As if on cue, footsteps sounded in the hall then Godwin re-emerged, an oven glove on one hand and a metal spoon in the other, twirling it around like a magic wand. “Gents! Forgive me, dinner may be a tad longer than anticipated. It appears I am not the chef I once was. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“That’s okay, Mr Peters, we were just getting acquainted.” Athens was quick to respond with charm, turning on the chair with his arms crossed over it in the comfort of an unruly child.
Godwin bowed his head, hastily breathing in.
“Oh, wonderful.” He cleared his throat, his eyes shooting wide open.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot to offer you a drink, Athens!
How rude of me. Gosh, you can tell I’m not used to guests.
Can I get you anything? Oh, and please, call me Godwin, did I not already say that? ”
Athens politely declined, insisting he would wait until dinner, and after a brief glance to Dariel, Godwin nodded his head again, flustered.
“Oh, right, okay, well, in that case, you both could erm… it’s a big house, please feel free to have a look around.
Just, erm… the downstairs. I’ve not quite organised upstairs yet.
” He left in a flash, missing how Athens squinted and screwed up his face as he slowly turned to Dariel, who was tensely on the edge of his seat in confusion.
Athens laughed once more, breaking all tension.
“He’s an odd fellow, isn’t he?” he said.
“Quite,” was all Dariel could add.
‘He’s quite a handsome gentleman though, don’t you agree?’
‘What? How are you… you’re in my head?’
‘You’ve never experienced this either, have you?’
‘I… no. How are you…’
‘Have you never controlled anyone? Made a human bend at your will?’
‘Yes, of course. It’s necessary.’
‘So how come this is a shock to you?’
‘Please get out of my head, it hurts.’
‘I’m not in your head.’
Dariel choked out a breath, eyes bursting wide.
Athens stared at him, waiting for his panting to stop.
“Gosh, you’re so tense, you don’t need to fight it, you’re making it hurt. You just need to relax a little. I’ll show you. Come on, let’s go and have a wander, I’m intrigued to see what he’s got hidden in these walls.”
Athens winked and reached out a hand as a thousand butterflies erupted inside Dariel’s stomach.