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Disquiet

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The Duke's seaside manor was a whole lot different from most other places Wisely had ever lived in. Back at the lodging house, the walls had been thin and the tenants loud, and it had been filthy too, even though Wisely had hardly had much of a reason to reflect upon the fact. But filth came in different forms – some were more tolerable than others.

Here, at the manor, things were different; quiet, yet also not. It was a good thing, considering Wisely's persistent migraine. Dealing with the talking, stomping, snoring, coughing, and slamming doors at the lodging house would have been exceptionally awful, really.

But it was hard getting used to the quiet as well, as well as to new luxuries; to have a room entirely to himself, to have his own bed as well as access to as much food, hot water and books as he desired. New shoes, clean clothes – neither too big nor too small.

It was a different life, and suffice to say, it took some getting used to. Wisely had had trouble recognising himself in the mirror at first. Then again, it also took some getting used to seeing himself in proper mirrors, and fairly sizeable ones at that. Back in his old life, he had seen his reflection far more often in windows or in water, and never quite as clearly as he did now.

If not for his posture and the unruliness of his hair, then Wisely would potentially have been able to pass for a nobleman's son – a nobleman's bastard – and the servants seemed to view him as such. It was not a bad look. But even though Wisely relished in his new wardrobe and greatly improved quality of life, they also made him uneasy. He had his own room, but he rarely used it. He could be alone, but he would rather have company; he would rather have Red.

"Go away."

Red might not want him to be there, but Wisely did not want to be anywhere else. So, he simply opted to ignore the statement in favour of turning the page.

"Leave."

The tone was a lot more dangerous now, but Wisely would not give in. Because he would rather face Red's wrath than his indifference.

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Life at the seaside manor was pleasant but hard. It was undoubtedly worse for Red though, even if it was ultimately for his own good.

It was late, way past midnight. But Red was still awake, and so was Wisely. Red had already slipped away twice, and he had been brought back each time. The first time had undoubtedly been the worst. The second time had not been pleasant, but it had been way less disturbing than the first.

Red had been so still then, so still and so quiet that Wisely had only been able to go back to sleep after clearly ascertaining that he was still breathing. The lack of response to Wisely's prodding had also been unnerving, but at least that way, Wisely had been able to measure his pulse without the risk of getting maimed.

In any case, life at the seaside manor was easy, comfortable, and filled with the kind of luxuries they had only ever dared to dream about. Even so, Wisely found himself revisiting his old life in his thoughts and daydreams. It wasn't that he missed it; there was really nothing to miss.

Well, save for Red's peace of mind, perhaps?

"Say…"

"What?" Red immediately snapped.

Wisely breathed in. "I know that you hate this, but it beats being in jail, don't you think?"

It also beat being dead, but Wisely was not getting into that.

"Come on, Red, it's not that bad: We don't have to worry about money or food or about restraining our urges to smother people who snore loudly."

"You snore."

Wisely held back a smile. "And yet−"

"Shut up."

Wisely smiled. "And yet, you haven't actually−"

Red let out a hiss, and Wisely readied himself to get kicked or worse. He didn't though.

Instead of dealing with Wisely, Red simply got out of bed and limped over to the window.

Sitting on the bed, Wisely watched him, hesitating; should he approach or stay where he was? Or should he be moving closer to the door, so that he might actually stand a chance at getting away in case Red had really snapped this time around?

Then again, in such a scenario, such short distances really wouldn't make much of a difference. Wisely might get just enough time to scream, but−

Red let out a heavy sigh and turned around, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was likely debating whether or not killing Wisely now would be worth it.

Then, after a good thirty seconds' worth of deliberation, Red finally looked back up.

"Get up," he said. "We're raiding the pantry."

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Accompanying Red to the kitchen was a risky bet, objectively speaking, considering the number of knives and heavy blunt objects in there. At the same time though, Wisely reasoned that, if Red really wanted to kill him, then Red would probably use his bare hands over any instrument. As such, accompanying him to the kitchen wasn't necessarily any more dangerous than accompanying him just about anywhere else.

Thinking such thoughts, Wisely led the way to the kitchen. Predictably, it was empty, as it was in the middle of the night – too late but also too early for anyone to be in there to clean or prepare food. They also hadn't encountered anyone while getting there, something which might or might not have something to do with Wisely taking deliberate detours to avoid certain areas of the house.

In the days since their arrival, Wisely had not – as one would have expected – spent his time solely in the library or with Red. He had done that, yes, but he had also found the time to learn about the different rooms and pathways.

As such, Wisely was able to avoid areas he figured Red would also rather avoid; he could only hope that Red would appreciate the effort. That said, Red would have to face his fears eventually – because there was definitely fear, even if it was so thickly veiled in aversion that it was not immediately apparent.

"Still, it's such a small world, don't you think? I mean, Artie ended up like that, but…" Wisely trailed off, uncertain as to whether or not he ought to continue. After all, Artie's misfortune had ended up being a very fortunate thing. Besides, Artie being the first one to go had probably been for the best – Wisely had found his company decidedly more tolerable than that of the rest, but the fact that Artie had been the first one to go had ensured that Wisely wouldn't have to tell him about the fates that ultimately befell the others.

Then again, if Artie had been around at the time, who knows what would have happened? Maybe things would have remained largely the same? If Tom had still fallen ill, then Charley could still have been caught pickpocketing, and then−

Wisely let out a sigh, dismissing the thought. What had happened had ultimately been for the best; Wisely was firmly convinced of this. Now Red on the other hand−

"Look," Wisely said, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Red raid the pantry. "Maybe it's different for me, but I really don't miss having to fight for my continued survival."

There was a scoff followed by a quiet mutter at that; Wisely couldn't make out exactly what Red had said, but he was pretty good at filling in the blanks. "Fine, I don't miss having to struggle for my continued survival. I don't miss the poor sanitary conditions either."

Red made a sound, prompting Wisely to rephrase again.

"I said, I really don't miss the filth. Like, I used to think that you were a bit too metic−thorough in your washing routine, but these days I understand, I really do. Over here, I can get clean, hot water whenever I want, and I get to sleep on a soft bed with clean sheets. I can also eat and drink without worrying about contamina−getting sick. To me, this is basically paradise, but for you… well, I imagine it's different for you. I'm not entirely sure why, but−" Wisely trailed off, averting his eyes. "−at least there is no one trying to shoot you or stab you over here? Most would consider that an improvement. Then again, considering that you probably consider hunting down monsters a thrilling activity, maybe I'm−"

Wisely trailed off again. He himself definitely wasn't a thrill-seeker. At the very least, he wasn't supposed to be. And yet−

And yet−

"Say, look, I know I asked you before, but what really happened that night? With Annie and all? And with Charley?"

Now probably wasn't the best time to ask, but when would there be such a time? Probably never.

Wisely looked up. Even in the darkness, Wisely was keenly aware of Red's flat stare. He was also keenly aware that he was seriously tempting fate here. On the other hand though, Wisely found that he really had to know. And Red was really the only one that could give some insight on the events of that night; dead men – and women – told no tales after all.

"What does it matter?" Red scoffed. "It's all in the past anyway."

It was all in the past, and with their current surroundings, it felt like everything had taken place years ago, not days, weeks or months prior.

It was rather surrealistic to think about it all. Getting hunted, getting strangled, getting shot, getting taken care of, almost getting run over…

Actually, Wisely's recollection of the whole event was a bit fuzzy, which was not all that strange, all things considered. But Wisely was feeling a lot better now; he still got headaches and migraines and such, but the rest of him was fine for the most part. Even the hand that had been shot was healing up nicely; the wound would probably leave behind a nasty scar, but Wisely found that he really didn't mind it.

It could have been worse, much worse. He could have been dead.

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Naturally, their raid of the pantry hadn't exactly passed by unnoticed. However, that was not to say that it had brought a lot of consequences; the pantry had been restocked in no time and the Duke had seemed decidedly more pleased than upset when he had learned about their little shenanigan, provided that the man had not known about it already – which was likely the case, all things considered.

Red had naturally been annoyed, but at the same time, his aversion to wasting food had ensured that he would still eat it – such had been Wisely's interpretation at any rate.

In any case, things seemed to calm down after that. Granted, Red was still irritable and avoided contact with just about everyone, but if he had made any further escape attempts, then Wisely hadn't noticed them.

But what Wisely had noticed was this: Red frequently left his room now and could typically be found somewhere in the vicinity, by the sea or up on the cliffs overlooking it.

Wisely didn't quite see what was so fascinating about looking at the sea, and he would much rather be reading. Thankfully, books were highly portable, so Wisely could do both.

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