The faint rustle of the sheets roused Soubi from his ephemeral stupor. He turned and fastened his empty gaze nonchalantly on the petite form fast asleep beside him. Exhaustion colored his companion's countenance, a last trace of perspiration sliding even as Soubi looked at him. A pool of black hair gleamed of their recent exertion, a shiny shade of raven forming a stark contrast with the white linen of the pillow. Soubi rested on his elbow and leaned over the boy, looking with a neutral inquisitiveness at the closed eyes and supple lips of one that had so unnaturally attracted his attention. There was beauty, that was without question, even if it was paled by an excess exposure to the elements; perhaps the torment of the tempests had only added to the haunting beauty of the child's pale face: a most fragile and innocent loveliness.

A strand of silver hair slid from Soubi's naked shoulders and brushed with its tip the boy's exposed arm. The child stirred and opened his eyes, a most passionate lavender, and looked with a customary fearfulness at the man who now met his gaze. He was afraid that he had unknowingly offended his curator, afraid that he might again be unambiguously abandoned.

"Again." Soubi commanded in that perpetually soft voice that betrayed neither gentleness nor malignity.

Slender and long fingers ghosted the small of his back, gentle, but unrelenting nevertheless. The boy arched his back in response and encircled his small arms around the Soubi's neck, over the finely shaped contours of muscles and the long silver hair. The faint perfume of Soubi's body once again invaded the boy's senses, and the innumerable kisses that the former bestowed on his supple flesh was like a misguiding prelude to a most violent symphony.

Passionately Soubi embraced the small form in his arms. Rocking and driving him, feeling the thunderous pounding of the child's heart against his chest, feeling the desperate clutch of the child's fingers in his hair as he entered and invaded him. The angelic skin beneath him was burning with unmistakable fervor; the guileless eyes moistened with confusion as they gazed at Soubi. The unwavering neutrality of Soubi's eyes silenced the boy's unvoiced question easily. Within a moment a deep blush exploded on the boy's childish cheeks, and those innocent eyes closed tightly as pearly gushes of white poured onto the sheets. A silent groan of climatic satiety escaped the boy's parted lips.

Soubi pulled out, holding the boy in his arms and feeling the laborious heave of the latter's chest against his torso. He twirled the boy's hair, matted with sweat, absently with his fingers, his unobserving eyes roaming aimlessly over the blank white walls, then returned to the boy again as he prepared to rise.

"A pity, that you have no voice. Otherwise I could draw forth your most exquisite song." He threw out carelessly as he disappeared into the bathroom.

The boy's gaze followed Soubi until the glass doors of the shower obscured his view. A finger touched his lips automatically.

Voice…that mystifying and unimaginable thing that only he seemed to lack.

He touched his throat, trying to force out even the slightest whimper. Voice. How can he make it come out. It was like a child, hiding in the deep and dark caves of his throat, refusing to emerge.

"…" Nothing. Not even the faintest whisper.

"I did say that this house is yours to do whatever you like, did I not?" Don't know when, Soubi had stepped out from the bathroom, his wet silver hair pulled up by a clip. "Why do you stay in that corner?"

The things Soubi did are strange, even painful, and he didn't really understand what they were. But Soubi had taken him in. Soubi had fed him and given him shelter. That was enough.

"Do you like corners?" Soubi asked.

He didn't want to be abandoned again, didn't want to be left with no one to claim him, so he'll be a good boy. If he's good perhaps his new guardian won't throw him away again so easily.

The boy stared at Soubi. I just don't want to get in the way.