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Vitus Corvo:

6’5” of bone and sinew, purest blood and sharpest instinct.

200 pounds of raw nerve and muscle, carefully curated for a single purpose – to kill and destroy, and perhaps in due time, to be destroyed by one stronger than he.

I don’t suppose he will ever know how much I sacrificed to save him from that fate, but it’s enough for me knowing that he’s safe…

I smile up at the boy, careful to avoid his shadowy gaze.  I recoil as it his fingers brush against my arm, hands tangled in the chains.  I don’t believe that Basil would willfully hurt me, but he is a work in progress after all – an experiment of sorts, as some less educated might claim.  Experiments can go quite wrong – in fact, they often do.

The pressure around my wrists crumples into a choking grip.  “Basil.”

“Sorry.”  His voice is whispered, soft like his anxious gaze.  A mirthless smile tugs at the corners of my lips.  Basil didn’t willfully hurt me, but he very nearly did nonetheless.  I suppose he means well, but I refuse to forget that he’s still very dangerous – even more so without the physical constraints of the compound.

The pressure on my arms suddenly releases, as the chains crumple on the marble.  How in the world did he get those loose?  He’s crouching in front of me now, eyes piercing my gaze.  I smile warmly.  “Good Basil.”  The chains slide off my uplifted hand as I gently reach for his head.  His hair is a little bit greasy, and his hair hasn’t been brushed for days.  My lips press in a thin smile as I rake my fingers through that nest of limp curls.  I’m afraid this isn’t the nicest head pat, but I don’t want to touch him any more than I have to.  Poor thing.  I’m sure he must be utterly ashamed to be seen in this sorry state.

He whips around, startled at some sudden noise.  I snatch back my hand, firmly brushing my gloved fingers against the rough fabric of my trousers.  He’s somehow dirtied the 500 mark sweater I bought him last month, although I suppose that’s to be expected in a place like this.  A shame, really.  That thing was pristine when I last saw it.

“Come on, Basil.”  I push myself up, letting the last of the chains slither to the floor.

“Dr. Corvo, do you have food?”  I whip around to see Basil towering over me, smoky eyes burning through me.  I wish he weren’t so quiet.  I would have liked to have some warning before seeing that.

“I’m afraid not,” I sigh.  “I’m sorry, Basil.  I’m sure you must be quite hungry by now.”  His head bobs up and down.  Yes.  Something crumples in his giant frame, and I can see his eyes start narrowing, like he does when it’s about to whine.  I sigh.  I don’t particularly want to hear it, especially given that there’s nothing I can do about the situation.

I turn around to see Saskia standing a few yards away, glowering up at me.  Ahhh of course.  Basil’s little shadow.

My lips curl in return.

Pitiful, really.  It must be exhausting chasing after a boy who can never truly love you back.

“Come on, Basil.”  I press my lips, waiting for an answer.  “Basil.”  Nothing.  I turn around to see Basil standing right where I last saw him, staring at the floor.  His eyes are narrowed almost to slits now, dully sparkling behind rows of locked lashes.  He slowly lifts his gaze, eyes soft and wet, and for a split second I see the faintest glimmer of dew matted in his lashes.