Fae's jaw clenches in frustration - he'd be done already, but his hand is giving him trouble, his joints are throbbing and his fingers are shaking when he needs them to be as precise as possible. The stress tinting Keelan's voice tells him they're not alone though, and so instead of answering, Fae exhales sharply to keep his composure, keep his hands steady and ignores the pain pounding against his movements as he carefully tilts one of the pins up.
It clicks.
Though his heart skips in excitement, there's no time for celebrating. Fae pushes the door open, clutches the pins in his bloody hand and grabs at Keelan with the other.
They come out into a large foyer and the exit is right there, separated only by a single, velvet-lined staircase. But the men Keelan saw can't be but seconds behind them and Fae isn't confident about their speed - for all he knows the door waiting for them just a few feet beyond that last step could be locked as well. Fae never doubts his instincts, and right now his gut is only screaming one word at him:
Hide, hide, hide!
He yanks Keelan away from the stairs, their feet pressing into the lush maroon carpeting of an extended hallway as Fae whisks them by barred windows spilling shafts of moonlight over several doors. He won't open any of them. There's a chance one of them might be a decent hideaway - a closet, a linen room - but there's just as much a chance they'll walk in on something they haven't been invited to, and Fae's got his reckless luck but he knows where the line meets stupidity.
What he stops at is a thick curtain that's drawn across one of the windows. It stands out a bit because not many are covered, but it's mundane enough not to be suspicious. He pulls it aside and his nose scrunches at one issue.
Standing room only.
If they both try to fit behind it, something will definitely look out of place. Without thinking much beyond that, Fae pushes Keelan flat against the window and looks at him sternly, amber eyes narrowed and serious. "Don't move," he tells him, raises a bloody finger to his own lips in a second order to keep silent, and then lets the curtain swish back into place between them.
He keeps moving, grateful for the darkness and color of the carpeting that's eating the blood spots he knows he's left behind. He can hear the men's voices echoing throughout the foyer - but the door was open, one complains.
Fae doesn't know how long it will be until they can move freely, their goal is so close, but he needs to find his own dark space to sink into until it's safe to make a break for it.
What he finds more troubling though, is the thought that Keelan might slip up. Not out of any clumsiness or fear, but because he might begin to worry Fae will leave him behind, and choose to fall into his master's graces to lessen his own punishment.
Fae doesn't want to think this way, but he does, because he knows in any other situation that's exactly what he would do - leave and not look back, no matter who he's left on the ground behind him. Keelan would be right to think that way about him, a world where everyone is self-interested is much easier to predict, much easier to control. Fae has always thought this way.
But as he hears those voices rise in volume, slowly invading the space around him, Fae finds himself hoping that Keelan will trust him, at least through this. He doesn't know why he cares that much, maybe because they're so similar, and Keelan deserves his freedom just as much as Fae does. But Fae suspects it also has a bit to do with how quickly and easily Keelan put faith in him - even if it ends up being misguided, Fae can't bring himself to break something that he spent no effort to draw out, that was so honestly given to him.
LOL I THOUGHT!! maybe it was only for his room but this is fine omg Keelan..he'd fight 4 him
Fae's jaw clenches in frustration - he'd be done already, but his hand is giving him trouble, his joints are throbbing and his fingers are shaking when he needs them to be as precise as possible. The stress tinting Keelan's voice tells him they're not alone though, and so instead of answering, Fae exhales sharply to keep his composure, keep his hands steady and ignores the pain pounding against his movements as he carefully tilts one of the pins up.
It clicks.
Though his heart skips in excitement, there's no time for celebrating. Fae pushes the door open, clutches the pins in his bloody hand and grabs at Keelan with the other.
They come out into a large foyer and the exit is right there, separated only by a single, velvet-lined staircase. But the men Keelan saw can't be but seconds behind them and Fae isn't confident about their speed - for all he knows the door waiting for them just a few feet beyond that last step could be locked as well. Fae never doubts his instincts, and right now his gut is only screaming one word at him:
Hide, hide, hide!
He yanks Keelan away from the stairs, their feet pressing into the lush maroon carpeting of an extended hallway as Fae whisks them by barred windows spilling shafts of moonlight over several doors. He won't open any of them. There's a chance one of them might be a decent hideaway - a closet, a linen room - but there's just as much a chance they'll walk in on something they haven't been invited to, and Fae's got his reckless luck but he knows where the line meets stupidity.
What he stops at is a thick curtain that's drawn across one of the windows. It stands out a bit because not many are covered, but it's mundane enough not to be suspicious. He pulls it aside and his nose scrunches at one issue.
Standing room only.
If they both try to fit behind it, something will definitely look out of place. Without thinking much beyond that, Fae pushes Keelan flat against the window and looks at him sternly, amber eyes narrowed and serious. "Don't move," he tells him, raises a bloody finger to his own lips in a second order to keep silent, and then lets the curtain swish back into place between them.
He keeps moving, grateful for the darkness and color of the carpeting that's eating the blood spots he knows he's left behind. He can hear the men's voices echoing throughout the foyer - but the door was open, one complains.
Fae doesn't know how long it will be until they can move freely, their goal is so close, but he needs to find his own dark space to sink into until it's safe to make a break for it.
What he finds more troubling though, is the thought that Keelan might slip up. Not out of any clumsiness or fear, but because he might begin to worry Fae will leave him behind, and choose to fall into his master's graces to lessen his own punishment.
Fae doesn't want to think this way, but he does, because he knows in any other situation that's exactly what he would do - leave and not look back, no matter who he's left on the ground behind him. Keelan would be right to think that way about him, a world where everyone is self-interested is much easier to predict, much easier to control. Fae has always thought this way.
But as he hears those voices rise in volume, slowly invading the space around him, Fae finds himself hoping that Keelan will trust him, at least through this. He doesn't know why he cares that much, maybe because they're so similar, and Keelan deserves his freedom just as much as Fae does. But Fae suspects it also has a bit to do with how quickly and easily Keelan put faith in him - even if it ends up being misguided, Fae can't bring himself to break something that he spent no effort to draw out, that was so honestly given to him.
He won't.