I somehow expected something like that, but it took me a long time to process. When Clive was next to me and I saw his heavenly beauty I forgot about the act of killing.

As we spent the whole day together, I never had time to think about Clive killing his own brother in such a fashion until class. I zoned out, knowing I wouldn't keep my spot as number two if I didn't stop. But I chose to think about Clive, and the mask he wore.

This beautiful mask that when he waved me over during lunchtime scared me even more. I saw his smile although everything was a lie and he laughed and teased Wyatt as the hunt was happening soon.

Clive had a manner of pretending to smile and laugh that I remembered those faces, animated and exaggerated. It began to scare me, those innocent looking smiles as she talked to Wyatt and Samuel. Only when he turned to me did he relax his facial muscles and the lips turned to a small smile that seemed real.

During the time we were in our room we began planning. We would make them follow us as we brought them to a better area with no snow, and then during night when they got sleepy we would attack, as we were used to killing at night.

I knew it was practice, but I saw Will and Wyatt's faces, both serious and determined to be the best knights for their family. Then I would somehow picture their faces on the men we killed and I would have a sickening feeling.

"I think that's a good plan. We need to get used to camping too, I heard it's bad as professors don't let them attack one another unless they've camped at least one night, preferably two," I mused.

"We should go scout out the location. It's the forest we first killed those rebels, remember?" Clive said.

"It's the same forest?"

"Yes," he replied, and looked at me strangely. "Why?"

"Nothing—I was just not expecting you to remember small details like that." His eyes widened in a questionable way, as though I had said an insult. "It's good you did, I'm impressed," I added.

He was silent before replying, "Let's go scout it out tonight," in the most monotonous voice I've heard him use. Unused to this situation I nodded meekly.

When dinner ended we showered in our small shower stalls next to one another. When we finally went into our dorm Clive got dressed.

"Isn't it still early?" I asked, drying off my hair. My short hair was drying, but Clive's now nape length hair was wet and he could catch a chill.

Clive didn't reply as he grabbed the cloak—then I reached out and held his wrist.

Despite being my height he was still so small and delicate. I felt the fine bones in his wrist and then his slender finger, calloused but still so small by looks alone.

"You're going to get a chill!"

"I won't." Same cold voice.

"Come on! You can't get sick now—the hunt is beginning—"

"And I can't fail, right? That's all everything ever means to you!" he spat.

Clive pulled away his hand and I stood there in shock, hand clutching the air. I looked up at him and was surprised at how instead of hurt I was angry.

Why would he be so vulnerable one night and confuse me before he drew away again? If he hadn't planned on staying, why did he tell me about his past?

Why couldn't I say any comforting? What was I doing wrong?

"I don't understand you anymore." The words that came from me were as cold as his. "If you don't see me as a partner—as a lover—then I will stay behind."

I gasped for breath before saying it.

"You're always worked up about me killing!" Clive finally had a hint of annoyance in his voice. "What do you mean you didn't expect me to remember?"

That's what he was upset about?

"It was a careless comment, I didn't mean anything malicious by it," I argued. 

"Is killing my brother normal to you?"

"No!" I bit my lips, not willing to lie. We had pinky promised. "Truthfully, it weighs on me. You like killing, but I don't want you to kill anymore, but we both have to. I don't know what to do!"

"Even if my killing bothers you, I kill them more often than you! You stand there praying!" Clive snaps, and pushed me lightly.

It pissed me off and I grabbed his shoulders roughy.

"But I express that! You're the one who's running away from me!"

"Nathan," Clive spoke slowly, my name sounding so melancholic in such a frail voice, "I'm not running away from you."

"You are!" I yelled, gasping for breath.

Clive stood and watched me as I held my forehead, burning with more unrest with each passing second. I shouldn't have yelled, I have to calm down, but seeing Clive stand there only made the swirling emotions in me grow.

"Fine, let's scout it out later," Clive said.

"No! That's not what I care about!" I snapped.

"Then what? Is it my past again?" Clive asked.

"No!" I was loud but I didn't care. "If you always run away from me like during our first fight when I hurt you I can't change! I can't apologize! So tell me if I hurt you, or leave if you no longer love me!"

"You know that's not going to happen," he muttered, voice meek. "I don't know what it is, but you've been so cautious to me ever since I told you about my brother."

"I can't change that," I admitted remorsefully.

"I'm ashamed myself, I don't want you to see me as a ruthless killer—but I don't want to pretend and grimace when it's so easy for me. I'm not a liar, not to you, Nathan."

I breathed, the knot in my chest loosening and with a few swallows I felt like I could speak calmly. 

"I'm not cautious, I don't know how to comfort you or if it's too late, I'm an awkward person. I thought you would know by now," I mumbled.

He stifled a small laugh. "Yes, I do know how awkward you are, but I also know how gentle you are. I thought maybe you'd pity me and me nicer to me."

"How?" I didn't think I did anything nice for Clive.

"Like slip into my bed and hug me without saying anything, or going on a lecture to make me less guilty—anything. I don't know what I wanted or expected, but the comment about the forest—"

"I'm so sorry I said that," I whispered.

"No, I am sorry. I made it to be such a big deal. That's why I don't want to say it, I'm such an idiot. I say the pettiest things..."

He looked up apologetically and I grabbed him before we both went to my bed.

"I'm in a dirty robe," he said.

"It's fine. It doesn't matter. I don't care about the hunt or anything anymore, let's just rest today. I'll hug you and try in my awkward way to comfort you, so let me." I snuggled him into my chest.

"I feel like the younger lover, as past scholars call it. The one who receives," he muttered with a crude laugh.

"No, we can change roles. I'll be yours and you'll be mine. Just don't walk away like before again," I begged softly.

"I won't. You didn't even let me take a step," he joked.

"Don't feel like you have to say anything or make it fine, tell me what you want and I'll do it."

As I stroked his hair he looked up.

His green eyes are so vibrant, I realized. His lashes are always curled, like his hair. It's such fine hair...

"Then I guess let's rest tonight. I miss your smell."

He smelled me and I thought how perfect we were.

"What a coincidence, I've always loved your smell," I whispered to his neck.

It had the faint smell of his sweat but also the wetness of his hair, and then the smell of the robe.

I unclasped it and tossed it to the floor.

Silently we laid there, awake and yet in a dream together. I couldn't believe I had almost cried and that in of itself didn't make me embarrassed.

I was beginning to treasure someone more than myself, treasure that person to the point I was throwing away what I thought was my dream—knighthood.

But no, with Clive I thought I really could defy my father and all the burden on us. It was only an adolescent dream, a short two years of freedom.