Will had finished her last lap slowly, though perhaps it was only Caleb, who taken every breath in as her body had bobbed in and out. No. She was definitely slower, and Caleb had almost been impatient until she reached the edge of the pool. Then he wished she would turn around and go again, because instead she had angled her arms and, hands clasping the edges of the pale blue tiles, she had pulled herself out and Caleb had felt Irma's scolding eyes on him as he swallowed. She was tiny. With thin legs which were more proportionate than he'd thought to Will's thin, arching back, her entire frame giving and twisting to sit; legs dangling beguilingly into the shimmering water surface. He'd never looked, on the rare occasions that Cornelia or Irma and certainly not when wore shorts or skirts, but he supposed it was the slithering trickles of water that fascinated him to trace down the shiny lines of water that embraced her skin, which was no longer as white; the lack of blue engulfing her revealed the slightest peach. It wasn't something that Caleb had come to know easily, and until now he had only agreed with what Aldarn had stated to fit the word.. But, if not 'beauty', then surely 'eloquence' was the word to describe the girl now. Though maybe both were needed, as one would describe the stunning nature, and one the way that she was deliberately performing the task of sliding her legs from the water and standing. But what did a boy like him kn- "Caleb!"
The sharp his was executed with a punching elbow in Caleb's gut, and Irma glowered at him while Hay Lin leaned dangerously over the barrier between them and Will; between swimmers and spectators, as she waved and grinned to Will, who wiggled her fingers feebly. It was only then, that Caleb snapped out of his stupor, and realized how little the redhead.. The girl.. The child was wearing. And his eyes snapped to the roof, while Irma continued to hiss a string of reasons he should be ashamed, but Caleb was busy being damn shocked and embarrassed to actually indulge in shame. Will was the one prancing around half nude after all.. More than half. "Why isn't she-"
"What is he doing?" It was one of the least explicit insult she ever used: ignoring his presence, but Caleb didn't dare respond for fear he might look down. Instead he simply shoved his hands into his pockets with intention to pinch himself if he dare even think about it. If Will didn't do something about it, Irma would certainly drown him. In all honesty though, Caleb didn't want to retort to the insult, because above every panic and shock and awe and fear that raged through Caleb's clearly poisoned veins; Caleb didn't feel insulted. So he was quite sure a retort was unnecessary and Will wasn't particularly wrong, and it was proven next, to be a great enough feat just to verbalize her name without looking down at her.
"Hello. Will."
...
Prince Phobos hadn't needed to lay his incriminating fingerprints on the door or it's handle. The foolish convicts had left it ajar, and no doubt those were Elyon's marks; the fingerprints and lines that glazed over near every item. The room was thick and the dusk which had been eradicated to dance through the room attacked his very lungs as a punishment for the sin of his being here. And that was not the only thing Prince Phobos hated, and a lover of power only has one fear that makes the lover wish he were death-bound rather than face his own weakness.
Phobos shook. His facial features quivered at the very sight of the still crumpled bedsheets and the nightdress flung over the door of the wardrobe' door. Fear course through him and Prince Phobos momentarily forgot that his mother could not possibly be coming to find him in here; a place where none, until today, other than his mother had been. Servants were allowed into the Queen's chambers at every level, but this room had been made especially for only her. A sign of affection, apparently, from his father to create her this place that was now clearly a refuge, but at the time the eight year old boy had thought it banishment. Somber, fell Phobos' mouth and eyes, as they caressed over objects he would see around the woman's wrist occasionally, but never dare he touch.
And finally his eyes found the odd piece out. He knew this sketchbook as well as he knew the other items of this room; gazed at but never seen, and Prince Phobos knew that he had found, finally, something he felt he could rest his hands on.
This is about to get good tomorrow, and I simply didn't have time for more today as my brother has awoken :L :L