Unwritten Fate [BL]-Chapter 21: "Finding Peace in the Stillness"

The Evening Deepens

Billy stepped outside, inhaling the crisp night air as he sank onto the porch. The wooden planks groaned beneath him, still holding the last warmth of the day.

The village murmured in the distance—soft voices, the occasional bark of a dog, the rhythmic chorus of crickets filling the silence. The scent of earth and firewood clung to the air, grounding him.

He let out a slow breath, resting his arms on his knees.

The weight in his chest hadn't lifted.

Not after dinner. Not after the half-finished conversation with Artur.

But at least out here, under the open sky, he could breathe.

His gaze drifted to the horizon, where the last streaks of sunlight melted into deep indigo.

And then—

A familiar voice broke the quiet.

"Enjoying the fresh air, huh?"

Billy turned as Mr. Dand approached, his steps steady, hands tucked behind his back. His face was unreadable in the dim lantern light, but his voice carried that easy warmth Billy had come to expect.

Billy offered a small smile. "Something like that."

Mr. Dand hummed in response, lowering himself onto the porch beside Billy with a quiet sigh. He stretched his legs out, leaning back on his palms as he took in the night.

"Evenings like this always remind me why I never left this place," he mused. "The air's different at night—lighter."

Billy glanced at him, considering the words.

Lighter.

Maybe he was right.

There was something about the night—the way the world settled, how everything felt quieter but not empty. The kind of silence that let thoughts breathe.

Billy exhaled. "Yeah. I guess so."

They sat there for a while, letting the stillness stretch between them.

Then—footsteps.

Billy didn't have to turn to know who it was.

Artur's presence was something he had started to recognize without looking—like a shift in the air, a pull just beneath his skin.

Then—

"You snuck out for fresh air without inviting me?" Artur's voice was light, teasing.

Billy glanced up. A faint smirk tugged at Artur's lips.

Something in Billy's chest eased.

Mr. Dand chuckled, shaking his head. "You were taking too long. Figured we'd start without you."

Artur huffed, stepping forward before settling onto the porch beside them. His shoulder brushed against Billy's—just a fleeting touch, barely there, but enough to send a flicker of awareness through him.

Billy swallowed, turning his focus back to the night.

For a while, they just sat there—three figures against the quiet hum of the village, the wind rustling through the trees.

Then, conversation picked up again.

Mr. Dand stretched his arms with a sigh. "Long day."

Artur nodded. "Still plenty left to do."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Mr. Dand tipped his head toward the storage shed. "That roof won't last another storm."

Artur immediately straightened, his expression sharpening. "I'll check it first thing tomorrow." His voice shifted—calm, sure, all business. "If we wait any longer, we'll be dealing with more than just a leak."

Billy watched him, noting the way Artur's fingers curled slightly against his knee, the way his brows drew together in that focused way Billy had come to recognize.

Always planning. Always looking ahead.

Mr. Dand must have noticed too because, after a moment, he let out a quiet chuckle.

"You know," he said, his voice tinged with amusement, "Artur wasn't always this serious."

Billy turned to him, intrigued.

Artur, however, sighed. "Not this again."

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Mr. Dand ignored him, lips curving into a knowing smile.

"When he was a kid, he ran around causing trouble for everyone. Stubborn as a mule, always getting into fights over the smallest things."

Billy's eyebrows lifted. "Fights?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how many times he came home covered in bruises because he refused to back down from some ridiculous argument."

Billy turned to Artur, smirking. "You?"

Artur crossed his arms, looking away. "It wasn't like that."

"It was *exactly* like that," Mr. Dand corrected. "If he thought someone was wrong, he had to prove it. Didn't matter if they were twice his size—he'd fight them anyway."

Billy tried—really *tried*—to hold back his laughter. But the thought of Artur, the ever-serious, ever-composed Artur, getting into petty fights as a kid was too good.

A chuckle escaped before he could stop it. "That's hard to imagine."

Mr. Dand grinned. "Oh, I've got stories."

Billy leaned forward, clearly interested. "Tell me everything."

Artur shot him a flat look. "We don't need to do that."

Billy ignored him, turning back to Mr. Dand expectantly.

Mr. Dand took his time, rubbing his chin like he was sifting through memories. "Let's see... Ah. There was the time he picked a fight with old man Garet because he was *sure* the guy was shortchanging people at the market."

Billy raised an eyebrow, glancing at Artur. "Did you win?"

Artur didn't answer.

Mr. Dand chuckled. "He got kicked out of the stall. But he stood outside for hours, watching every transaction, just to prove his point."

Billy laughed. "And?"

Mr. Dand leaned back, grinning. "Turns out, he was right."

Billy's laughter slowed as he studied Artur again.

There it was—that same determination, that same quiet intensity. Even as a kid, Artur had been like this.

Billy's smile softened.

Mr. Dand continued, shaking his head in amusement. "Used to come home covered in dirt like it was some kind of badge of honor."

Billy blinked. Then—before he could stop himself—

A laugh escaped him.

He turned to Artur, eyes glinting with mischief. "Seriously?"

Artur scowled. "Don't listen to him."

"Oh, I'm *definitely* listening." Billy smirked. "Fighting kids twice your size? What, did you think you were invincible?"

Mr. Dand let out a deep chuckle. "That's *exactly* what he thought."

Billy laughed again, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

Mr. Dand sighed dramatically. "Always had a habit of jumping into things headfirst, no matter the consequences."

Billy smirked, nudging Artur lightly. "Guess some things don't change."

Artur shot him a look, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

Just something softer.

Something Billy couldn't quite name.

For a while, they simply sat there, laughter lingering in the air, mixing with the night's quiet hum.

The warmth of the moment settled over them—familiar, easy, safe.

But beneath it, something else lingered.

Something unspoken.

Something that stayed between them, in the quiet glances, the fleeting touches, the words left unsaid.

And even as the conversation continued, even as the night deepened—

That feeling remained.

Right there.

Waiting.

Billy could still feel it.

And he knew Artur felt it too.

As the night stretched on, the village quieted even further, the distant murmurs fading into a comfortable hush.

The lantern light flickered gently, casting soft shadows along the porch. A cool breeze swept through, carrying the scent of damp earth and the faintest trace of rain that lingered in the air.

Billy sighed, letting his head tilt back against the wooden beam behind him. The stars had begun to emerge, scattered like tiny specks of silver across the vast, inky sky. He let his gaze wander, tracing patterns between them, his thoughts drifting somewhere far beyond the moment.

Beside him, Artur shifted, resting an arm against his knee as he followed Billy's gaze upward. "Clear night," he murmured.

Billy hummed in agreement. "Yeah."

Mr. Dand exhaled a satisfied breath. "Nights like this make it easy to forget the rest of the world exists."

Billy didn't respond right away. But he understood what Mr. Dand meant. Here, in the quiet of the village, under a sky vast and endless, the weight in his chest felt lighter. Not gone—but lighter.

And yet—somewhere in the back of his mind, a whisper of something lost stirred. A life he couldn't remember. A name that should feel like his own but didn't. He could almost grasp it, like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts—then it slipped away, leaving only the hollow ache behind.

Billy exhaled, shaking the feeling off. Not now. Not here.

He let his gaze drift upward again, focusing on the stars instead—the one thing that hadn't changed, no matter who he used to be.

Beside him, Artur studied his face in the dim lantern glow, his brow creasing. He didn't say anything right away, but Billy felt the weight of his gaze—steady, searching.

Then, a quiet nudge.

"Tired?" Artur's voice was softer now, laced with something Billy couldn't quite name.

Billy blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. "Not really."

But the exhaustion was creeping in, settling into his bones in a way that had nothing to do with the day's work.

Mr. Dand stretched, letting out a yawn. "Well, I am. Time for this old man to get some sleep." He stood, patting Artur's shoulder as he passed. "Don't stay out too late."

Billy watched as he disappeared into the house, leaving just the two of them on the porch. The silence stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt... natural.

Artur leaned back on his palms, his shoulder brushing Billy's again. He didn't pull away this time. Neither did Billy.

For a while, they simply sat there, watching as the stars settled into the sky, as the night deepened around them.

And for the first time in a long while—Billy didn't feel lost.

Not completely.

Not here.

Not with Artur beside him.

The lantern flickered once more before settling, its glow warm and steady against the quiet of the night.

"The night felt endless, but deep down, Billy knew—morning would come too soon."