In Plain Sight

Chapter 3!<♡

****

He dismissed the maid with a curt wave of his hand. "You are dismissed. I need a change of clothes."

The maid, her face a mixture of relief and trepidation, scurried out, closing the door softly behind her. Marc remained, his eyes still fixated on Jay. 'He looks so fragile,' he thought, a strange current of curiosity running through him.

'How is his skin so pale? So thin.' He was surprised by the unexpected tenderness of his own thoughts and shook his head in dismissal, as if to dislodge the unbidden emotions.

He then turned and headed into the bathroom to change out of his school uniform.

Moments later, a soft rustle, and Jay stirred. He rubbed his eyes with tiny fists, then let out a delicate yawn, a sound so small it was almost imperceptible.

"Since you're awake," Marc's voice cut through the quiet, cool and deliberate, "could you care to explain what you're doing here in my room?" He leaned against the frame of his bathroom door, his arms folded across his chest, a picture of teenage brooding.

Jay, seemingly unperturbed by the question, simply ignored him. He crawled towards the jug of water on the bedside table, his movements slow and methodical.

Marc's right eye twitched, a tell-tale sign of rising irritation. He moved swiftly, snatching the jug of water away before Jay could reach it. "You answer when you're being asked a question," Marc stated, his hands now plunged into his pockets, his gaze a glacial glare.

"I believe you were being told beforehand that I am to 'share' this room with you till further notice," Jay stated, his voice still calm, his gaze not meeting Marc's.

A smirk played on Marc's lips. "And I just expected you to stay silent. I'm surprised a two-year-old toddler can speak." His tone was laced with mockery.

"It isn't your fault your stupidity was later discovered," Jay countered, his gaze still averted. His words, sharp and precise, only made Marc's grin widen.

"You're the first," Marc stated, a hint of genuine amusement now in his voice.

"To tell you the truth?" Jay blurted out, avoiding Marc's gaze once more.

'I dunno why but I feel scared of him,' Jay thought to himself, a tiny tremor running through him as he looked down at his lap.

Marc’s hand, surprisingly gentle, descended onto Jay’s head. He patted it softly, then began to caress the fine strands of his hair.

"For a pale looker, your hair is soft," Marc stated, his voice a low murmur.

Jay, to his own surprise, felt a blush creeping up his neck.

"Isn't this termed as s****l assault?" he stuttered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

Marc chuckled, a short, dry sound. "You don't even know what you're saying. Move over." Jay, being significantly smaller and stiffer in his movements, was easily manoeuvred.

Marc settled onto the bed, pulling Jay onto his lap, and continued to caress his hair, his fingers working through the silken strands. "You smell like the shampoo I use," Marc stated, a curious note in his voice.

"It's because I used your shampoo," Jay confessed, his blush deepening, a tiny, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips. The fear was still there, a faint echo, but it was slowly being eclipsed by a strange, unbidden sense of warmth.

$$~~

Knock.

"Come in," Marc's voice cut through the quiet of the room, sharp and clear.

The door creaked open, and a maid entered, balancing a gleaming silver tray laden with an array of different meals.

"Madam said the fruits and supplements are for the guest," she stated, her gaze briefly flickering to the small boy still nestled in Marc's arms.

"Drop it and leave," Marc commanded, his tone icy, not bothering to look at her. The maid, accustomed to his brusque manner, simply nodded, placed the tray on a nearby table, and swiftly exited the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Marc carefully lowered Jay onto the plush bed. "You should eat fruits first to build up your appetite," he stated, his voice softening imperceptibly as he picked up a vibrant red apple. Jay nodded, his gaze thoughtful.

"I'm sorry," Jay mumbled, a slight stutter in his voice, "I forgot to ask for your name."

"Voronov Marc," he replied, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "As you can see, my mother is Latin, and from my name—"

"—and your dad is Russian," Jay finished, the words tumbling out, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yes," Marc responded, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"It must be nice having a last name," Jay sighed, a wistful note in his voice.

Marc's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, from what my mother constantly murmurs to herself about, I think my dad left immediately I was born," Jay explained, his face turning plain and indifferent again, as if recounting a mundane fact. "But I also heard he was poor, so it's nice in a way, because she always cursed at him." His voice held no emotion, a stark contrast to the heavy subject matter.

Marc, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden turn in conversation, quickly changed the subject. "My friends are coming over soon."

"I thought you didn't have friends," Jay countered, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Weren't you asleep?" Marc asked, a slight edge to his voice.

"The maids told me you had quite an interesting group of friends, though you always preferred to be alone, so I took a guess," Jay stated, his gaze unwavering.

"Wanna come?" Marc asked, the question escaping him before he seemed to fully consider it.

Jay's lips curved into a tiny smirk. "Where did your Russian accent fly off to now?"

'This cute little—' Marc gritted his teeth, a faint grin following immediately after. He reached out and patted Jay gently on the head. "I guess I don't have a choice... Oh, by the way, my name is Jay," Jay stated, then, with a surprising burst of energy, he leaped out of the bed.

"Hold my hand so you won't fall," Marc said, extending his hand. Jay, however, simply stared at it, a curious expression on his face.

"Why—"

"Just do it!" Marc's voice, though firm, was reduced in notation, almost a quiet plea rather than an order. Jay's lips curved into a small smile. He took Marc's hand, his small fingers wrapping around Marc's, and together, they left the room.

Meanwhile, in the guest room, Juliet was still enjoying her tea and snacks with Alexandria when a maid appeared at the entrance. "What is it?" Juliet asked, a slight impatience in her tone.

"The young master's friends are here," the maid stated, her voice even.

"Is Marc on his way to them?" Juliet inquired, setting her teacup down.

"Yes, ma'am, and he is taking the guest with him," the maid replied. Juliet turned to Alexandria, who showed no concern whatsoever, then back to the maid.

"It's fine as long as no casualties occur," Juliet stated, a wry smile playing on her lips. The maid, understanding the subtle humor, simply nodded and left, allowing Juliet to continue her discussion with Alexandria.

Outside the grand manor entrance, three boys, comparably the same age and height as Marc, stood waiting. A male servant approached them, his posture deferential. "The young master has informed me to tell you all to head to the garden before him," he announced.

"Tell him that we'll wait," one of them, a lanky boy with an air of casual arrogance, retorted.

"And why wait?" Marc's voice cut through the air as he emerged from the manor, Jay's small hand firmly clasped in his own.

"A little servant?" another boy, bulkier than the others, sneered, his gaze fixed on Jay.

"It won't kill you to shut up and reduce your weight, would it?" Jay asked mockingly, his voice clear and sharp. Marc struggled to hold back his laughter, his hand still gripping Jay's.

"These are Rome, Calvin, and Theodore," Marc introduced, his voice tight with suppressed amusement.

"The obese one is Theodore?" Jay burst into laughter, a high-pitched, joyful sound that echoed across the quiet expanse of the lawn. Theodore's face, however, contorted with a mixture of anger and raw killing intent. His fists clenched, and his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Theodore, it was a joke, act your age," Marc said, his voice flat, his face suddenly filled with disgust. Theodore froze, his knees visibly shaking in fear. The sudden shift in Marc's demeanor left Jay speechless, his laughter abruptly dying.

"You're a pretty one," Calvin grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes as he took a step towards Jay. But a single, piercing glance from Marc stopped him dead in his tracks.

"A pleasure," Rome said, offering a practiced business smile. Jay, however, didn't even look in his direction.

"Follow me, Jay," Marc said, his voice now gentle.

"Okay," Jay responded, falling in step behind Marc, his tiny hand still securely held.

****♡

Ten months had passed since Jay began living with Marc, a period that had transformed their initial wary acquaintance into an almost inseparable bond.

They bathed, ate, and even studied together, their lives intertwined in a way neither had anticipated.

When Marc returned from school, he would often find Jay either sound asleep, a book resting on his chest, or deeply engrossed in a new story. After lunch, they would settle into comfortable conversations, sharing their thoughts and experiences.

Then, one day, Marc approached his mother, Juliet, a subtle flush on his cheeks.

"Mother, I'd like a bracelet for two and two jars of sweets," Marc said, his voice a little too casual.

Juliet, her eyes widening in surprise, arched an eyebrow.

"Whoa, Marc darling, you don't even like sweets."

Marc's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink with embarrassment. He clenched his fists, a nervous tic. "I... I just started li-liking them," he stammered, his gaze darting away.

Juliet's face lit up, a wide grin spreading across her features. "Or is it for a certain someone?" she giggled, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Should I just ask Dad to send some for me?" Marc countered, attempting to change the subject, his pout evident.

"Just tell me," she pleaded, enjoying his discomfort.

"No," Marc declared, about to turn and leave, but then he halted, his cheeks becoming an even deeper crimson.

"It's... for Jay. He likes sweets."

"Oh my," Juliet exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

'Well done, Jay, you've stolen my son's heart already,' she thought, her grin growing even wider. She picked up her phone, dialling a number with an almost giddy excitement.

"Yeah, hello, I'd like to order your finest, make it quick," she said, then ended the call, her face alight with delight.