Unwritten Fate [BL]-Chapter 9: "Repairing More Than Wood"

The village was alive with movement when they returned. The storm had knocked down several market stalls, and the scent of damp wood mixed with the morning air. Villagers bustled about, some repairing the damage, others gathering in groups to chat about the unexpected weather.

Dand spotted them from a distance, arms crossed, a knowing look on his face. "Thought you two might've drowned in that storm," he called out. "Slept well?"

Billy felt Artur glance at him, but he ignored it. "Like a baby," Billy lied smoothly.

Dand chuckled. "Good. Because there's work to do."

Billy groaned. "Why do I feel like I just walked into a trap?"

Dand ignored him and gestured toward the market. "A few of the older folks lost their storage sheds to the wind. You two can help patch them up."

Billy exchanged a look with Artur, who only shrugged. "Better than fishing," Artur muttered.

Billy sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if I get a splinter, I expect compensation."

Dand raised an eyebrow. "Compensation?"

Billy grinned. "At least a warm meal."

Dand smirked. "Work first. Then we'll talk about food."

The scent of wet wood and fresh earth filled the air as Billy rolled up his sleeves, eyeing the damage left behind by the storm. The storage shed's walls were warped, the roof slightly caved in where the wind had torn through the village. Artur, already focused, knelt beside a pile of damp wooden planks, inspecting each one with a critical gaze.

Billy sighed dramatically. "So, let me guess. I pass you the tools, and you get all the glory for fixing this thing?"

Artur didn't look up. "You're welcome to try hammering a nail straight, if you think you can."

Billy scoffed. "Excuse you, I have very steady hands."

Artur held out a hammer. "Prove it."

Billy grabbed it with confidence, taking a plank and aligning it against the half-broken frame. He positioned a nail carefully, raised the hammer—

Clang.

The nail bent sideways.

Billy blinked. "Well, that wasn't supposed to happen."

Artur sighed, shaking his head as he reached over. "Hold it like this," he said, adjusting Billy's grip with a firm but patient touch. His fingers brushed against Billy's knuckles, the warmth unexpected. "And don't swing like you're trying to kill it."

Billy exhaled slowly, trying again. This time, the nail sank in smoothly.

"There," Artur said, pulling back. "Not bad."

Billy smirked. "Told you. Steady hands."

Artur didn't respond, but there was something amused in his expression as he went back to his own work.

They settled into a rhythm—Billy handing Artur nails and wood, occasionally hammering in a few himself. The shed wasn't large, but the damage made it tedious to repair. The sounds of the village filled the background: merchants rearranging their stalls, children laughing as they splashed through leftover puddles, elders gathered under shaded awnings, recounting stories of storms from long ago.

Billy wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, stretching his sore arms. "So, do I get a reward for my hard labor?"

Artur snorted. "What do you want? A medal?"

Billy grinned. "A meal would do."

"That depends on whether you actually helped or just slowed me down."

Billy placed a dramatic hand on his chest. "How dare you. I am an essential worker."

"Sure you are."

Before Billy could come up with a witty retort, a voice called out from behind them.

"Artur! Finally, you're back."

Billy turned instinctively at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. A young woman strode toward them, her confident steps kicking up little tufts of dust. She wasn't dressed like a villager—her clothes were well-fitted, neat, and her hair was expertly braided, as if she had planned to be seen.

Billy didn't miss the way Artur straightened, wiping his hands on his tunic before turning to face her. His face remained unreadable, but something in his posture changed—something guarded.

"Leena," Artur acknowledged.

Billy's brow arched at the familiarity in his tone.

Leena placed her hands on her hips. "You could've at least told me you were alive. The storm had half the village wondering if you got swept away."

Billy leaned against a wooden beam, watching their exchange with interest.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Artur shook his head. "I wasn't far."

Leena's sharp gaze finally landed on Billy, scanning him with mild curiosity. "And who's this?"

Billy leaned against a wooden beam, offering a lazy grin. "Billy. The lost soul of the village, apparently."

Leena's brows lifted slightly. "The one Dand found?"

"That's me." Billy folded his arms. "And you must be...?"

"Leena," she answered smoothly. "I run a few things in the marketplace." Then, with a teasing smirk, she added, "And I keep Artur from turning into a complete recluse."

Billy's eyes flickered to Artur. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Sounds like a full-time job."

Leena laughed. "You have no idea."

Artur exhaled, clearly unimpressed. "Ignore her."

Leena laughed. "You must be new here if you think I can be ignored."

Billy turned to Artur, eyes gleaming with mischief. "So, Artur, are you secretly popular and just never told me?"

Artur rolled his eyes. "Ignore him."

Leena grinned. "Oh, I like him."

Billy shot Artur a victorious look, but something nagged at him—something about the way Leena and Artur spoke, the familiarity between them.

He wasn't sure why it bothered him.

But it did.

Billy found himself smirking. He liked her energy—sharp, quick-witted, confident. But at the same time, there was something about the way she interacted with Artur that stirred an unexpected feeling in his chest.

Not jealousy.

Not quite.

But something else.

Something he wasn't ready to name.

As the day wound down, Billy found himself stealing glances at Artur, searching for any sign of lingering thoughts about Leena. He wasn't sure why it mattered, but it did.

Something had shifted.

And Billy wasn't sure if he was ready for what that meant.

The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and violet. The storm's remnants were now just damp patches on the ground, and the village had settled back into its usual rhythm.

Billy stretched his arms behind his head, watching as Leena and Artur exchanged a few more words. Artur remained his usual composed self, but Billy didn't miss the way his responses were shorter, more clipped than before.

Finally, Leena sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine, I'll leave you two to your important work. But Artur—don't disappear for too long again, or I will track you down."

Billy smirked. She's persistent, I'll give her that.

With a parting glance at Billy, Leena turned and made her way back toward the village.

Billy let out a low whistle, nudging Artur's arm. "She seems... attached."

Artur exhaled through his nose. "She's just—she's known me for a long time."

Billy tilted his head, watching Artur's expression carefully. He didn't seem flustered, just... tired. Not annoyed, but maybe wary.

"Hmm," Billy hummed, nonchalant. "So she's not your mysterious long-lost love then?"

Artur scoffed. "No."

Billy grinned. "Good to know."

Artur shot him a look but didn't comment. Instead, he turned back to the storage shed, assessing what was left to be done.

Billy watched him for a moment, then stretched lazily. "Alright, oh mighty builder, I think we deserve a break."

Artur glanced at him. "You did maybe half an hour of real work."

Billy gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me! I was a crucial part of this operation."

Artur shook his head, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Billy clapped his hands together. "Come on. The storage can wait. I say we go eat something before I collapse from exhaustion."

"You're not collapsing," Artur muttered, but he relented. "Fine. But you're not dragging me to another one of your ridiculous experiments."

Billy grinned mischievously. "No promises."

The village square was still lively, a few food stalls set up despite the storm's earlier chaos. The scent of roasted fish and warm bread filled the air, and Billy practically sighed at the smell.

They settled at a quieter corner, where an elderly woman sold fresh fruit and small pastries. Billy grabbed something without much thought, but when he turned back to Artur, he noticed something odd.

Artur was staring at him.

Not in the usual annoyed why-are-you-like-this way.

But something quieter. Something Billy couldn't quite place.

"What?" Billy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Artur blinked, as if realizing he'd been caught. He looked away, shaking his head. "Nothing."

Billy smirked. "You sure about that? You look like you had a deep, life-changing thought just now."

Artur grabbed his own food and muttered, "Just eat."

Billy chuckled but let it slide.

They sat on the edge of the marketplace, the air buzzing with quiet conversation and the occasional bark of a stray dog.

Billy chewed thoughtfully. "You know... I think I'm getting used to this."

Artur glanced at him. "To what?"

Billy gestured vaguely. "The village. The routine. You scowling at me every morning."

Artur scoffed. "I don't scowl."

Billy snorted. "Oh, you absolutely do."

Artur shook his head but didn't argue further.

A comfortable silence settled between them.

Billy wasn't sure when exactly it had happened—this sense of belonging. But as he watched Artur sit beside him, the usual tension in his shoulders a little looser, the sharpness in his gaze softened by the flickering lantern lights, Billy realized something.

He liked being here.

Not just in the village.

But here, beside him.

And that thought was far more dangerous than he was ready to admit.

---

As the night deepened, they made their way back to the house. Billy's stomach was full, his limbs relaxed. The cool night breeze brushed against his skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant firewood.

Artur walked beside him, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable.

Billy exhaled, stretching his arms above his head. "I think today was a success."

Artur gave him a side glance. "You define success in the strangest ways."

Billy grinned. "That's what makes me interesting."

Artur hummed, shaking his head.

They reached the house, but Billy hesitated before stepping inside. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, watching Artur as he started to tie up the loose ropes on the fishing net near the porch.

Billy wasn't sure why he lingered.

He wasn't sure why his chest felt weirdly tight when Artur was near.

Or why the way Artur focused so intently on his work made something shift inside him.

And he definitely wasn't sure why—despite the cool night air—he suddenly felt warm.

He didn't have the answers.

But for now, he was content with the silence, the unspoken something between them.

For now, that was enough.