OVERHEAD

Chapter three

That run-in with Will stayed in the back of Edward’s mind, even when he’d been asked to help with preparing the snacks of the children—a luxury that the institution had now because of his father’s graciousness. Or so Patricia said.

One more thing he’s found out today is his lack of talent in the kitchen, as he messed up a thing as simple as making homemade bread. Failure after failure and a hard round of teasing from the twins made up most of his afternoon. He was frustrated, and he’s made it his mission to practice when he got home. He didn’t like the feeling of failing at anything, most especially breadmaking.

He’s sat down on a wooden chair, ankles crossed as he watches the twins get to work. "Maybe I’m right and it has to be that way,” he suggests, refusing to admit defeat.

Aurelie’s tinkling laughter fills the small space. “Edward, dear, you’ll have to actually bite through the bread to enjoy it.”

Edward flushes at the reminder of his rock hard creation. It wasn’t his fault, he convinced himself. Maybe the ingredients were expired, or the oven was actually dysfunctional. He made a mental note to ask his father to donate a brand-new one. It couldn’t possibly be because he was bad at something.

Edelie took pity on him, cooing. “Don’t be too hard on him, sister. The poor kid is trying.” Edward juts his chin out at Aurelie, feeling more confident now that someone was on his side. “Failing,” Edelie adds, “but trying.” She finishes with a chuckle at Edward’s betrayed face.

“Just you wait,” Edward playfully counters.

They finish the food. With a tray nestled on each pair of arms, they head out to the common area and set the food down on the middle table, a deep mahogany that matched the main door. Aurelie heads to the kitchen to fetch some plastic cups and the drinks. She returns and places them on the table as well.

The children need not be called as they each take their own pieces and retire to their spots, some even being hesitant on taking one. Edward’s crouching down, munching on his share of bread.

“Luna,” Edelie calls softly, once, then a second time. Edward follows her gaze as it falls on a young girl who he guesses was at least three years old. Her bright, doe eyes find Edelie’s face.

The older woman beckons her over and she hesitantly follows, her plush doll trailing behind her feet. Edelie gestures to the food. Luna drops beside him almost like a toy with a drained out battery, messily landing on her bum. Edward snorts.

“Quite a landing you got there,” Edward mutters, his amused eyes trained on the little girl as she reaches forward and unknowingly takes the largest piece of bread in the pile. When she settles back to her place, her head darts to both sides, almost like she’s looking for something. Edward jolts when her small hand crumples the fabric of his tee. And just like that, she starts her quiet nibbling.

Aurelie smiles at the sight. “She’s a shy one, barely talks.” 

Edward assesses the child again, seeing her pay no mind to her surroundings. He observes the other children, most of them were keeping to themselves, and a few had made friends with the others. There was a noticeable difference between those who were alone and those who weren’t. He didn’t want to put much thought into it, but he couldn’t help himself.

This environment was new to him, and he had no clue as to how anything worked or what to expect. Growing up, Edward had always been this social butterfly, a trait that has proven to be beneficial for him as the web of people he knew grew and grew, and so did the amount of favors waiting to be granted to get into his and his father’s good graces.

He’d never been alone, never felt alone, not when a guard always shadows him wherever he goes. Not when his house was always flooded with people—gardeners, maids, security, cooks, the list was endless. Edward should be the last to know how it felt to be alone because he never was.

Before he could ponder about it some more, his eyes catch a moving figure. He turns his head just in time to watch the guy, Will, walk over to them, the frown on his face still.

“Will,” Edelie greets curtly, and Aurelie smiles up at him.

He doesn’t respond to them in any way. In fact, he doesn’t even look at anyone as he wordlessly scoops Luna up in his arms and settles her on his hip, the little girl smiling up at him brightly. She nuzzles his neck, continuing to eat her bread and dropping crumbs on his shoulder.

Will still doesn’t say anything as he turns on his heel and heads into the kitchen with a bouncing Luna clinging onto him. Edward is immediately on his feet, following the two. Once there, Will sets Luna down on one of the highchairs just in time to see her take a huge bite off her food. He softly bopsthe tip of her nose before sitting across her and pulling his book out, unaware of Edward.

“You didn’t introduce yourself,” Edward says, the accusation in his voice showing through although he hadn’t meant it to.

He uncrosses his arms and slips his hand in his pockets.

Will looks back at him for a moment, his posture relaxed and uncaring, before turning his head again, refocusing on his book. Edward is appalled, offended, at Will’ behavior.

Edward scoffs. “A lack of manners doesn’t make you look cool.”

“Too much of it doesn’t either,” Will bites back, the tone of his voice unusually calm despite the heavy drip of venom from his words.

“Doesn’t mean you should—”

Edward is interrupted by Will’ sigh. “Take your business elsewhere, will you? The little princess is eating, and the sound of your voice is interrupting my peace.”

Edward’s mouth drops open. It was so rarely that he meets someone so rude that it took him aback. Red, hot irritation boils inside him. He hadn’t even talked to this guy before this moment. He didn’t understand where the hostility was coming from.

“You don’t have to be rude—”

“Go bother someone who’d actually listen,” Will interrupts him again, flipping a page, the flatness of his speech a telltale of his boredom.

Edward’s mouth is agape. He stomps his foot, way past the point of aggravation. He spins, briskly walking towards the twins to report Will’ unreasonable behavior. It was unacceptable! Truly, completely, totally unacceptable for a person to behave that way, untriggered, at that!  

Edelie meets his eyes before he even arrives, her brows raised at the sight of Edward’s flared nostrils. “You’ve met Will.” It isn’t phrased like a question, and the way that Edelie had said it meant it wasn’t an uncommon experience with the guy.

“Met?” Edward repeats with incredulity and wide eyes, “I’ve sparred with him.” It was a spar, alright, maybe even more. Will had straight up been waging war on poor Edward.

“Calm down,” Aurelie approaches him with her arms outstretched. Once close enough, she engulfs Edward in a hug, rubbing his back soothingly. It mildly eases Edward’s irritation, but not so much that he’s willing to forget the unjust treatment from the boy in the kitchen. He fumes in anger again, pulling back from Aurelie as he plans his revenge.

He wasn’t just going to get back. No, he was going to get even.

…

Unfair. That was one word Edward could take from all of this. It had been two days and Will hadn’t left his room during afternoon snack time, or showed himself to Edward specifically aside from taking his meals. It was bothering him—not because he wanted to see the guy, no, but because he had this masterplan all ready for execution yet the subject of it was not even around to begin with.

He had been buzzing the past few days with the thought of earning a point against Will. Although it made him look like a vengeful person, he couldn’t help but rise up to the challenge. He isn’t vindictive, at least he didn’t believe he was, but he couldn’t just let the mistreatment pass, could he?

Will needed a taste of his own medicine, and Edward would have him drown in it. He had to be discreet about it too, he reminds himself. He hadn’t forgotten that this whole thing was his punishment for that disaster of a ball. A small screw up, perhaps a little bird chirping of his misdoings could cost him his inheritance. That was why he’d planned everything down to the dot and he’d been ready for two days.

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest when he sees Will descending the steps, presumably on the way to pick Luna up again. The heavy thumping of the organ echoed in his ears as he set his marks.

He heads into the kitchen, a drink in his hand, already expecting to see Will and Luna there. He was right, they were seated the same way they were before with Luna gobbling up the snack in her tiny hands.

“Will,” Edward starts, “I think we got off on the wrong foot here.”

Will doesn’t even bother to look at him. He adjusts himself in his chair, bringing his leg up and tucking his foot under his right thigh, ignoring Edward all together. Edward clenches his jaw, so close to letting loose and hurling expletives at the other guy’s way. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, but mostly just to have something to fill his insides rather than the growing dislike towards Will. He needed to focus.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he exhales, forcing the words through his teeth, “I’m sorry for behaving the way I did—”

“God, man,” Will huffs, “don’t you ever shut your mouth?”

Edward’s knuckles have turned white, the urge to punch Will in the mouth so close to the surface. It took a lot of effort and deep, steadying breaths to reign it in. He was just a breath away from losing it when he hears something.

Marco and Callum, the kids who were playing tag when he first arrived, were playing again. He looks behind him, seeing that the boys were heading his way now, sprinting. It was now or never. Just as Marco steps into the threshold of the kitchen, Edward puts himself in the way as innocently as he could, making the child bump against him.

Edward shoots forward, spilling the contents of his very full cup into Will.

The boys gasp in mortification at what they had caused, walking up in front of Will with their heads down, muttering their apologies. Without another word, they scurry away, leaving Edward, Will and Luna in the kitchen.

Edward is fighting the smirk on his lips upon seeing Will’ stiff body. The guy stands up, setting his half-drenched book onto the table with his jaw ticking in irritation. His lips were pursed tightly together.

“Sorry man,” Edward says, emphasizing that word when he remembers Will calling him that, “these kids play hard.”

It didn’t take a genius to understand that Edward’s words had double meaning, Will at the very least must have noticed the edge on Edward’s voice when he apologized, his gut telling him that not only did Will know about his insincerity, but also that he meant to spill his drink on the guy.

Edward sees Will’ face go blank, completely devoid of any emotion, reminding Edward of a calm before the storm Without warning, Will pulls his wet top over his head, leaving his bare torso available for anyone to see, most especially Edward. He wasn’t lanky, Edward realizes, seeing small hints of muscles in the right places.

Will’ chest is glistening with the little moisture left from the spilled drink, and he wipes at it, drying his hand on his discarded shirt. He turns, presenting Edward with his back. The guy lets running water soak the material, most probably to prevent staining it.

With a calm voice that could have fooled anybody but Edward, Will answers lowly, “S’alright. They’ll get what’s coming for them.”

He lets out a shaky breath.