It was a dark evening, as almost all were in Winter. No darker than any other had been that month, but the rain harshly battering the window panes always created an air of eeriness that simply could not be explained. Gil wrapped himself tighter in his silk sheets and cowered against the bed's frame. The misleading shadows the dim candle light cast upon the walls didn't help the matter at all, but blowing it out and being in total darkness was unthinkable. It was incredibly selfish and juvenile, but he desperately craved the comfort of another person. Master Oz tended to stay up late reading, perhaps he wouldn't mind if Gilbert visited his chambers briefly? Especially if he were to do so under the guise of seeing if he needed anything.
The golden eyed servant took a moment to fearfully stare out into the darkness that surrounded his bed, as though it were filled with all manner of demons and monsters, before finally composing himself and leaping off the piece of furniture. He moved at a pace that couldn't quite be considered running, but definitely should not be called walking, as the halls were terrifying at night. Every child knows that spaces that are more than comfortable in the daytime are instantly transformed into something horrible with the absence of light. Much later than he would have liked, the young valet arrived at his Master's quarters. He let a small smile reach his face as he reached out to push on the cool, metal doorknob. His hand froze in midair, and then became limp and fell to his side, however, at the noises he heard coming through the door. Small whimpers and whines that could easily be dismissed as the product of a bad dream where soon joined by grunting and panting. The first noises Gil instantly recognised as belonging to the young Master, but the latter were surely from an older man with a deeper voice. Cautiously, he let his eye travel to the keyhole, through which he saw the unspeakable. An image that would be burned into his brain forever.
Duke Vessalius, Master Oz's father, was completely nude and stood behind his son, almost completely obscuring him from view. But Gil saw enough. Usually bright, happy, emerald eyes were screwed shut in pain. His mouth, that he could never recall seeing sporting anything other than a smile before, was pulled into an ugly grimace. He looked like he was willing for whatever this strange action they were performing was to be over. Xai Vessalius was almost the polar opposite, his tounge lolled out of his mouth like a content dog sticking his head out of a carriage window, and his eyes were closed in pure bliss.
The raven haired boy didn't understand what was happening in there, nor was he sure he wanted to, but it made him feel uneasy and he quickly fled the scene.
A few months later Oscar decided the boys were ready for "the talk" and the pieces fell in to place for Gilbert. He felt sick to the stomach realising what he had witnessed, and the fact that he ran away like a coward only increased his despair. Oz had sworn to protect him on the first day they met, yet when he himself needed protecting Gil had done nothing. He tried to talk to Oz the following day. He confessed what he had seen and said they needed to do something because this was wrong and it shouldn't be happening. But the blonde Vessalius heir denied everything. They never spoke of it again, and Gil never saw another incident. He began to question whether it had all been a dream or a figment of his imagination. But deep down he knew. When you see something like that you just know.