He was an early riser. Today, Xal found it hard to open up his eyes as heavy light was covering over his eyelashes and blinding him when he pried open them.
"Urgh, why is it so bright… the hell!"
He threw an arm over his eyes, squinted against the assault of brightness. Once his eyes adjusted enough to actually see, only one word left his mouth.
"Wow."
If fairies in the childhood stories he'd told Xehelya had a home, it would have looked like this.
The house was beautiful.
Pristine.
There were so many suncatchers and windchimes catching and reflecting the light; made with stones and crystals hanging in the tall windows, decorating rainbow patterns across the opposite walls. The morning rays filtered through them, painting everything in shifting, kaleidoscope colors that moved with the breeze. It was like standing inside a jewelry box left open in the sunlight. Soft chimes rang, blessing his ears.
With no sign that Kian was awake yet, Xal got up and made himself a little tour of the house. It just felt so welcoming not to.
The kitchen was after the living room, over the corner of the small corridor lead to it, spotless, with more charms, plants and dream catchers hanging from the ceiling, their feathers swaying gently in the air current from the vent.
The living room held the TV and couch where he'd slept and some untouched books on the shelves beside. There was the bathroom, another bedroom that looked unused with a bed made with hospital corners without a single wrinkle in sight, and one room that was locked with multiple locks from the outside. It made him pause for a while.
He left all the doors unlocked except this one. Obviously, an invitation to all the robbers exploring the neighborhood. Dumbass.
He though quietly as he observed everything arranged neat, organized, and almost obsessively clean. It didn't look like a house that belonged to a spoiled brat who complained about everything. It looked like someone's sanctuary. A home where someone had tried to fill every corner with light chasing the darkness away.
He really hadn't expected Kian to be the type to keep a house this clean without staff. If he had maids or servants, they should have been here last night or shown up by now. But the house had that lived-in feeling of someone who took care of it themselves, as if it were a treasure.
His eyes caught up on the time, reading 8.10 AM on the clock, and he took a bit more time to admire the artistic beauty in the house.
A piece of a puzzle he didn't realize he had made itself known.
The Kian who didn't care about people's feelings, complained about things, spoke ruthlessly and bluntly, and threw tantrums, didn't match this space. But the Kian who'd stood in Tera's room and gently told her she was brave made sense here.
He could clear the confusion later.
Xal washed up quickly, feeling hunger settle uncomfortably in his stomach. He changed into fresh clothes from his backpack, a white shirt and gray shorts, and checked the time on his phone. 8:35 AM.
He wasn't a fan of ordering food. So, he opened the fridge and scanned over the neatly categorized ingredients. Not knowing when Kian would wake up, he decided to make something simple that would keep him full for a while. Egg sandwiches with a salad seemed close enough.
As he cracked eggs into the white ceramic bowl, 6 of them were already in it, when he realized what he had done.
"Wait… Why am I making food for this brat?"
He stared at the bright yellow yolks floating and started whisking them since they were already in the bowl. When had he started caring about whether Kian ate? The guy was ungrateful. Mature in some ways, but definitely ungrateful.
Since he had started, he might as well finish making the meal for both.
Never let the food go to waste.
He cooked quietly, the buttery smell filled the kitchen, making sure not to clatter pans or slam cabinet doors as he usually did. Kian had looked completely worn out last night. The least he could do was let him sleep.
He assembled the sandwiches carefully, with eggs, tomatoes, and cheese in layers, plated them with the salad in a bowl, and put Kian's portion in the fridge. Took his own share to the couch and sat down, turning the TV on but keeping it muted.
The food was good and satisfying for his rumbling stomach. As he ate, his attention kept drifting to Kian's closed bedroom door.
They needed to talk. About the job. About Khem. It wasn't his fault that 'sorry' and 'please' were not the most used words in his vocabulary. Even though he partially knew that Kian would probably tell him to fuck off, he wasn't about to go down without a fight.