A/N: Although this chapter is super short, it was also one of my favourites to write and I hope you guys enjoy it too! Thank you for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Kyle barely lifted his head from yet another book as he entered his bedroom, flicking through the pages in anticipation. He'd discovered so many brilliant novels in the library that he didn't know where to start. A pile was already beginning to grow by his bed.

"What do you have there?"

Kyle jolted at the sound of Bebe's voice. His cheeks warmed when he looked up and met her knowing eyes. The more time he spent here, the more he could read eyes that once seemed so blank and lifeless, porcelain and wooden.

"Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte," he replied. "I've wanted to read it for a while now. I hope Eric likes it too."

"I'm so glad you're getting along with the master now, Kyle," Bebe said with a grateful sigh. "We told you he's not as cruel as he seems."

"Yes, well, you were right," Kyle replied as he sat on his bed, sighing too. "Although I wish I hadn't reacted the way I did when I first came here. All of this was such a huge surprise. I think I was in shock."

"It's easily done, I don't blame you for being scared of him. But you're settled in now, that's what matters."

"Oh, definitely." Kyle nodded. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since he came here. Perhaps that was just another ability this magic house possessed? To manipulate time all out of proportion? "I don't feel scared at all. In fact…"

"Yes?"

"I feel welcome, like I belong here," Kyle continued, a smile spreading across his face. "I never thought I would enjoy spending time with Eric, but I do! And I'm so intrigued by him! Of course, I always was, but… even though I've always been curious about this place, about him, I don't fear the answers anymore. Sometimes I think he does…"

"Why's that?"

"I think he's afraid of his past," Kyle answered. "He's only brave enough to give me mere glimpses of his life before I came here, and that's fine, but I wish I could know for sure."

"He's a strange fellow," Bebe assured. "Just be patient and he'll tell you soon enough."

Kyle nodded, expecting the answer. "I suppose. Bebe…"

"Yes?"

Although Kyle only possessed the aforementioned glimpses of Eric's life he was still trying to piece together, an extraordinary picture was starting to form, bright and clarifying – especially when he now knew so much more about Eric's family. Kyle had left the sitting room that evening believing that Eric was the forgotten master of Tenorman Hall. It was a bewildering realisation, and seemed like such a fantastical notion, but the only explanation that made sense.

Still, he was reluctant to accept his theory until he heard the confession from Eric, and the last thing Kyle wanted to do was upset him by pressing the issue. All of the staff were so loyal to their master too, so concerned with preservation. They would protect the secrets of this house to their graves. To Kyle, Bebe was the exception. She was the first friend he had made here, was a brilliant confidante, had cared as much about Kyle's wellbeing as her duty to her master. Maybe she would be willing to divulge something? To put Kyle's mind at ease once and for all?

"Kyle?" she asked again. "What is it?

Kyle took a bracing breath. "You've mentioned past lives before-"

They were interrupted by the discordant noise of bashing piano keys, and a furious roar. Kyle flinched, looked to Bebe for an explanation, for reassurance, but she appeared just as frightened as Kyle was. Immediately he hopped off the bed and ran out of the room. The wild, distressed melody with the roaring leitmotif continued, and Kyle almost fell down the stairs as he rushed to put an end to it. He was panting and trembling by the time he reached the sitting room, throwing open the doors to find Eric's huge form hunched over the piano. He was seething, his back rising and falling.

"Eric…" Kyle whispered, making his way over to the piano. "Eric, what's wrong? What are you doing?"

Stood beside Eric now, Kyle realised he had mistaken sniffling for seething. Eventually, Eric lifted his head to reveal golden eyes brimming with tears. They left Kyle reeling; he had never seen Eric cry before. In fact, he never thought he would. Still, he placed a hand on Eric's back. His fingers were so small on Eric's wide shoulders that he feared his touch would be lost, meaningless. He hoped his voice wouldn't meet the same fate.

"Eric, please tell me," he said softly, his fingers moving in soothing, coaxing circles.

Still sniffling, attempting to collect himself, Eric replied, "I was trying to play the piano. I still remember how to read the sheet music but these bloody paws are getting in the way." He spat out the words and lifted his paws, staring at them reproachfully. "I can't play anything, not like I used to, and what if I can't ever play again?"

Kyle had no idea how to respond, but before he could try Eric blinked and more tears pooled at his long lashes. He ducked his head again, and Kyle's hand began to tremor above Eric's back. He frowned and leaned down, wrapping his arms around Eric. His face was buried in his fur.

"It'll be all right," Kyle whispered. The only thing he could offer. "I promise you, it'll be all right."

He lifted his head but remained close to Eric, stroking his fur.

"But you must not work yourself up over this," he added in a strong, taut voice. "You mustn't dwell… perhaps some fresh air will do you good?" he smiled. "It was lovely being out in the grounds the other day. And perhaps we can have our tea outside this afternoon? Have a picnic? How about that?"

Kyle could feel his smile brighten when Eric looked at him, and he beamed when Eric nodded.

"All right." Kyle nodded in return. "That's what we'll do."

They both turned their heads at the signature squeak of a trolley entering the room. Eric's body stiffened and he turned away immediately.

"Is everything all right in here?" Gregory asked.

"We heard a tremendous noise!" Pip said.

"We thought something terrible had happened!" Butters added.

"No, no, we're fine," Kyle assured, shaking his head. He glanced at Eric. His hand was still on his back. "Actually, we've decided we want to have tea outside today. The weather is beautiful, after all. Would it be possible to have it packed into a picnic basket please?"

The staff glanced at each other, relieved and delighted.

"Yes of course!" Pip replied.

"We'll have that sorted right away," Gregory added.

"Thank you," Kyle smiled, but was thankful when they left the room.

He could feel some of the tension drain away from Eric beneath his fingers, at least it was a start.

Eric chewed lazily at the sandwiches and scones that were in the basket, glaring at the blanket beneath them as he did so. Still, Kyle held out hope that the bright, cloudless afternoon would inspire some conversation soon - even if he had to initiate it himself. How could the chirping birds signalling summer, and butterflies and bees drifting through the air, not put one in a good mood? He swallowed the last of his scone, licking the strawberry jam off his fingers, and admiring the vibrant summer flowers peeking out over tall grass.

"It really is a wonderful afternoon," he commented. "Summer will be here before we know it! I wish I could stay out here all day."

"Yes, I'm very fond of the grounds," Eric replied. Distant, Kyle noted, but at least he was talking. "They're in desperate need of maintenance… although I would rather spend all night out here than the rest of the day."

"Why?"

Eric's gaze wandered over the grounds. "Because it's dark and nobody can see me. Not even the birds and the insects can see how hideous I am."

Frowning, Kyle shook his head as if to will away the pang in his chest.

"Eric, please, you're not hideous…" he muttered.

"I'm frightful then. Even you were afraid of me when we first met," Eric pointed out.

"Well, yes, but only because I had seen nobody like you before…" Kyle paused when Eric turned his head to look at him, focused and hopeful. It swept away any doubt Kyle had for what he was about to say. "But there is so much more to who you are than how you look, Eric. Your appearance is not the sole thing that defines you, that should never be the case… do you know what the word 'sublime' means?"

Eric's brow furrowed. "Something that is perfect and beautiful."

Kyle smiled and continued. "Yes, and beauty is subjective – in the eye of the beholder and all that – and it also exists on a spectrum. Something that is beautiful can be pretty and quaint, or tantalising and superficial, but when you describe something as sublime it transcends all those things. It's something that is beautifully extraordinary, frighteningly so, like a tiger or a mountain range. Both of those things are dangerous but you can also appreciate the beauty of them."

"If the tiger doesn't rip you apart first," Eric remarked.

And although he feared Eric wasn't quite understanding what he was trying to say, or just simply refusing to listen, Kyle chucked and shook his head despite himself. But he wasn't giving up.

"Did you know that when people rode past the Alps in their carriages they would draw the curtains?" he asked with a smile. "People couldn't bear to look at them because the mountains were so sublime and horrifying. But then the Romantic poets recognised the beauty of the Alps and started writing poems about them. Now I'll bet there isn't a person in the world who wouldn't admire the Alps and be over-awed by them if they saw them in the flesh."

Eric's shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. He shook his head. "But I've hidden for so long. I couldn't bear for anyone else to see me."

Kyle chuckled again, with only mild exasperation. He shifted on the blanket and smiled when Eric slid his gaze to him again.

"But don't you see?" he replied. "I was afraid of you when we first met, but I had to be brave and patient enough to really get to know you. Even you had to be brave, Eric. And I'm so glad that you were because now I can see how generous you are, how intelligent you are, how talented and sensitive you are. Just like those old poets and the Alps, I soon discovered all of your wonderful traits and came to appreciate them." His smile faded into earnestness. "I'm no longer scared, and I hope you're not either."

Kyle heard the taut, heavy thrum of Eric's breathing, saw the startled gleam in his eyes, and thought he might be afraid. But Eric soon shook his head, and Kyle's shoulders slouched in relief.

"Good…" he said with a small nod.

With the buzz of insects in the air, and all the words spoken between them, further conversation hardly felt necessary. In fact, to Kyle it seemed like it would cut short a rather lovely, understanding silence. So instead he smiled shyly and reached for another sandwich from the basket.

"Kyle, I would like to apologise for the way I behaved, the way I treated you, when you first arrived here," Eric suddenly said, the words coming out fast before he slowed down. "You were right, I was afraid to have someone like you enter my life. I had just been alone for a long time."

Kyle was reeling, and in Eric's kaleidoscopic irises he could see his startled reflection multiplied by what seemed like a hundred. He willed himself to react, nodding. His mouth tugged into a soft smile.

"I know," he replied. "Thank you for your apology."

Eric smiled in return, before delving into the basket once more. They stayed outside, shrouded by unkempt grass and tall, foreboding walls, talking about nothing and everything, until the sky dimmed, and dinner was waiting.