Unwritten Fate [BL]-Chapter 24: "Not Everything is Nothing"

The sky had deepened into a richer shade of gold, streaks of orange stretching across the horizon. The evening breeze was cooler now, rustling through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and woodsmoke.

When they reached the porch, Artur finally slowed, rubbing the back of his neck as if shaking off the last remnants of whatever had been clinging to him.

Billy leaned against the wooden railing, arms crossed, watching.

"So," he drawled. "Are you going to pretend nothing happened?"

Artur gave him a flat look. "Nothing did happen."

Billy let out a soft chuckle. "Right. Of course."

Artur sighed and turned toward the door, reaching for the handle.

Billy tilted his head. "You're not gonna help your dad with the tools?"

Artur hesitated—just for a second—but then opened the door. "He's fine."

Billy smirked. "So you are running away."

Artur ignored him, stepping inside.

Billy chuckled again but followed, stepping into the warmth of the house.

Inside, Mr. Dand was already at the table, rubbing his hands together as he looked up at them. "You two are back early."

Billy glanced at Artur, but Artur just walked past him, heading toward the kitchen. "Nothing much left to do," he said over his shoulder.

Mr. Dand hummed in response but narrowed his eyes slightly, as if sensing something unspoken between them.

Billy, feeling Dand's gaze, just grinned. "We had a moment," he said, voice teasing.

Artur dropped a spoon onto the counter.

Billy barely held back his laughter.

Mr. Dand, oblivious, just raised a brow. "A moment?"

Billy shrugged. "Something like that."

Artur shot him a glare, but Billy only grinned wider, settling into his chair with an easy confidence.

The tension from earlier hadn't disappeared.

If anything—

It was just getting started.

Artur took his time in the kitchen, deliberately pouring himself a drink—slow, measured, as if he wasn't aware of Billy's eyes still on him.

Billy, of course, knew better.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the wooden surface. "You're being awfully quiet, Artur."

Artur didn't look up. "Not everything needs a response."

Billy smirked, enjoying this more than he probably should. "That so?"

Mr. Dand, who had been watching them with mild curiosity, finally spoke. "You two been bickering like an old married couple since you walked in. Something happen?"

Artur visibly tensed.

Billy, on the other hand, laughed. "Nothing happened." He threw a pointed glance at Artur. "Right?"

Artur's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching just beneath his skin. "Drop it."

Billy leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping against his chin in slow amusement. "You know, that just makes it sound even more suspicious."

Dand chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, it's clearly bothering Artur more than you."

Billy feigned innocence. "Who, me? I'd never do anything to bother Artur."

Artur exhaled sharply and finally turned to face him, eyes dark with something Billy couldn't quite place. "I said, drop it."

Billy's smile faltered—just a fraction.

That look— It wasn't irritation. It wasn't anger. It was weighty. Measured. A storm barely restrained.

Billy swallowed, pulse jumping, but before he could push further, Artur turned away again, grabbing his drink and heading toward his room without another word.

The door closed behind him with a quiet click.

Silence settled over the room.

Dand exhaled, shaking his head. "Whatever you did, you got under his skin."

Billy's gaze lingered on the door, his fingers drumming absently against the table. The playful ease he had worn earlier had slipped, leaving something quieter, something unsettled in its place.

"...Yeah," he murmured, more to himself than to Dand. "I know."

Billy remained seated, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his cup. The playful smirk he had worn earlier was gone, replaced by something quieter. Something thoughtful.

Dand watched him for a moment before leaning back in his chair. "You're not usually the type to let things go, are you?"

Billy exhaled, a small huff of laughter escaping him. "That obvious?"

Dand chuckled. "You poke, you prod, you stir things up—like a little storm that doesn't know when to settle." He tilted his head slightly. "But right now... you're hesitating."

Billy's fingers stilled.

Dand wasn't wrong.

Normally, he would've pushed. Teased. Found a way to break through that wall Artur had thrown up so suddenly.

But something about tonight felt... different.

That look in Artur's eyes—

The way his voice had dropped, firm, edged with something he wasn't used to hearing from him.

Billy tapped his fingers against the wood again. "Artur's not exactly an open book."

Dand smiled knowingly. "No, he's not."

Billy glanced toward the closed door. "But I get the feeling there's something he's not saying."

Dand hummed. "And what do you plan to do about that?"

Billy didn't answer right away.

Because for once—

He wasn't sure.

The night stretched on, the house quiet except for the occasional creak of wood settling.

Billy lay awake in his room, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep wouldn't come easily tonight.

His mind kept replaying that moment—

The way Artur had looked at him.

The weight of it.

The undeniable shift in the air between them.

Billy exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, fingers lingering at the back of his neck. He rolled onto his side, staring at the dim ceiling, as if the answers might be written there.

One thing was certain.

Whatever was happening between them

Artur was feeling it too.

Morning arrived slower than usual. The sun had barely started its ascent when Billy stirred awake, blinking against the dim light filtering through the small window. He exhaled deeply, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His body felt restless, his mind still tangled in last night's thoughts.

The shift in Artur.

The weight in his gaze.

The silence that had stretched between them, saying everything and nothing at the same time.

Billy sat up, running a hand through his hair before finally dragging himself out of bed. The house was quiet. Dand had already left for the morning, and Artur—

Billy stepped outside, his gaze scanning the yard.

There.

Artur was by the water trough near the barn, rolling up his sleeves as he worked on something. His posture was stiff, his movements a little too focused, like he was trying to keep himself busy.

Billy took his time walking over, stretching his arms with a yawn. "You're up early."

Artur didn't look at him. "So are you."

Billy stretched lazily, voice light. "Couldn't sleep."

Artur's hands stilled—just for a second—before resuming. "Why?"

Billy tilted his head, watching him through half-lidded eyes. "Thinking too much." Artur didn't ask what—he didn't need to.

Billy took a step closer, leaning against a nearby post. "And you?"

Artur's jaw tightened briefly. "Had work to do."

Billy hummed. "That all?"

Artur exhaled, straightening up. He finally glanced at Billy, his expression unreadable. "What else would it be?"

Billy held his gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

He could push.

Say something to crack the wall Artur was carefully reinforcing.

But instead, he just smiled lightly. "Nothing."

Artur studied him for a second longer before turning away.

Billy didn't miss the way his shoulders relaxed just slightly.

And he wasn't sure why—

But something about that made his own chest tighten.

A quiet breeze passed through the yard, carrying the faint scent of damp earth. The world felt still, like it was waiting.

Billy shifted his weight, watching as Artur moved with practiced ease, tightening the last beam. His movements were efficient, controlled—like someone determined to stay focused, to keep his mind from wandering.

Billy didn't buy it.

He knew avoidance when he saw it.

And Artur was practically drowning in it.

Billy crossed his arms. "You know, you're working awfully hard this morning."

Artur didn't look up. "That's what mornings are for."

Billy smirked, tilting his head. "Or is it just easier to keep your hands busy than your head?"

That made Artur pause.

Subtle—but Billy caught it.

The brief moment of stillness. The slight flex of his fingers around the wood. The way his breathing shifted just enough to betray something beneath the surface.

Then, just as quickly, Artur exhaled and straightened up. "Not everything has to mean something, Billy."

Billy arched a brow. "Doesn't it?"

Artur turned to him fully now, arms crossing over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—

Something simmered there.

Something Billy wasn't sure Artur even realized was showing.

Billy stepped closer, his movements unhurried, deliberate.

"If you've got something to say, Artur—just say it."

Artur's throat bobbed. His fingers flexed at his sides. "I don't."

Billy didn't look away.

Didn't back down.

Because the weight between them—the thing that had been lingering, growing, pulling at the edges of whatever this was—

It was still there.

And it wasn't going away.

Billy took another step. "Okay. Then let me say something."

Artur's breath hitched, barely perceptible.

Billy caught it anyway.

"I'm not stupid," Billy said, voice quieter now, lower. "I see the way you—"

"Artur!"

A voice cut through the air—sharp, uninvited. The moment splintered.

Both turned—slower than they should have, as if caught in the lingering weight of something unfinished.

It was Jay, making his way toward them with an easy grin, as if he hadn't just walked into something that had been seconds away from unraveling.

Billy took a slow step back.

Artur exhaled sharply, looking away.

And just like that—

The moment was gone.

The morning sun had settled high, casting a warm glow over the village. Billy leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, his fingers curled loosely around a cup of coffee. The steam had begun to fade, but he still held it close, enjoying the quiet warmth against his skin.

The village stretched before him, bathed in soft golden light, the scent of earth and morning dew still lingering in the air. A few villagers passed by, exchanging greetings, their voices blending with the distant sound of birds.

Billy let out a slow breath, sinking into the stillness—until a familiar voice pulled him back.

"Busy today?"

Billy turned.

Jay stood a few steps away, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual grin tilted to one side. His posture was relaxed, but there was a gleam in his eyes—something playful, expectant.

Billy shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "Not really. Artur didn't mention anything, so I guess I'm free."

Jay's grin widened. "Perfect. Then let's go. I'll show you around the village—properly this time."

Billy blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation.

Before he could respond, he felt it.

A shift.

A presence.

He turned slightly—and there was Artur.

A few feet away, sleeves pushed up, arms flexed as he worked near the side of the house. His movements were steady, controlled, but his posture had stiffened just slightly. The faintest pause in his actions.

And then—

"I'm coming too."

Artur didn't hesitate. Didn't glance up for approval. Just stated it—as if the decision had been made before the question was even asked.

Billy blinked again.

Jay, beside him, raised an eyebrow, turning his head with exaggerated slowness. "Oh?" he let out a short laugh, clearly amused. "What, you don't trust me?"

Artur straightened, shaking the cloth once before setting it aside. His face was neutral—but his gaze stalled on Billy just a second too long before flicking to Jay.

Jay let out a slow, knowing hum.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You know, you're not exactly subtle."

Artur didn't blink. "Didn't say I was."

Jay chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. The more, the merrier." He turned back to Billy, nudging him lightly. "Looks like you've got a bodyguard."

Billy snorted, but before he could say anything, another voice cut through the air.

"Artur."

It was Mr. Dand.

Billy turned, watching as the older man approached, his usual calm but firm presence settling over them.

"I need you for something," Dand said, stopping a few steps away. "Just for a bit."

Artur's posture shifted.

A hesitation.

Barely there, but noticeable.

Billy caught it.

Jay caught it.

For a second, Artur didn't move. His gaze flickered—first to his father, then back to Billy.

Billy saw it then.

The reluctance.

The way Artur's fingers curled slightly at his sides, like he wanted to say something but held it back.

Artur's jaw tightened. "Now?"

"Yeah. It won't take long."

Billy caught it—the flicker of hesitation, the restless flex of Artur's fingers, like a runner poised at the starting line but held back by invisible chains.

But saying no to his father was never an option.

Jay, standing between them, let out an exaggerated sigh, stretching his arms. "Guess it's just us, then."

His tone was light. Playful. But there was something beneath it.

Something intentional.

Billy barely reacted to the words—but Artur did.

Just for a second.

His jaw tensed.

Jay definitely saw it.

He clapped a hand against Billy's shoulder, the touch light but deliberate. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of him."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Oh, please."

Jay laughed.

Artur didn't.

His gaze lingered on where Jay's hand rested before he exhaled through his nose, short and controlled.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"Don't wander too far," Artur muttered, turning away.

Billy smirked. "I'll be fine."

Jay grinned, leaning in slightly toward Billy. "Let's go before he changes his mind."

Billy chuckled, shaking his head, and they started walking.

Artur stood still for a moment.

Then, finally, he turned, following his father—but not before glancing back.

One last time.

Artur barely focused on the task in front of him.

He lifted. Adjusted. Moved things into place.

But his mind wasn't there.

It was with them.

With Billy.

With Jay.

His hands tightened around the tools as He stole a glance toward where they had walked off, his stomach twisting slightly when he spotted them in the distance. They were just talking, nothing more.

But Jay was standing too close.

Too damn close.

They weren't far.

Just down the path.

Talking.

Jay leaned in slightly, saying something low, and Billy—

Billy actually smiled.

A small, amused smile, followed by a light chuckle.

Artur felt it then. like a slow, crawling weight settling in his chest.

A strange, unfamiliar weight pressing down in his chest.

It was ridiculous.

He had no reason to feel this way.

And yet.

The feeling didn't leave.

If anything, it only grew stronger

He didn't understand it at first.

Didn't want to understand it.

But it sat there, making him restless.

Making him irritated.

And the worst part?

He had no reason to be.

And yet—

Billy turned to Jay with that same easy expression, and Artur's grip tightened.

Just slightly.

Artur had never considered himself an easily distracted person. He was used to keeping his focus, to working in silence, to getting things done without letting his thoughts wander.

But today—

Today was different.

He tightened his grip around the wooden crate, adjusting it on the cart. His father was speaking, giving instructions, but the words barely registered. His mind was somewhere else.

Or rather, with someone else.

Billy.

And Jay.

His jaw clenched slightly as he stole another glance.

They weren't far. Just a short distance down the dirt path, stopping near a fruit stall. Jay picked up an apple, tossed it lightly in his hand, then turned to Billy, saying something with that familiar easy grin.

Billy—

Billy smiled.

It wasn't just a polite smile. It wasn't the small, reserved ones he sometimes gave Artur when they worked together.

It was effortless. Natural.

And then he laughed.

Artur's grip tightened on the crate.

The sound was light, casual—just a fleeting chuckle—but something about it got to him.

He exhaled sharply, turning back to the cart.

"Artur," his father's voice came again, steady but firm. "You're distracted."

Artur blinked.

He realized then that he had been gripping the crate too hard, his fingers pressing into the rough wood.

Forcing himself to ease his hold, he straightened. "I'm listening."

Dand gave him a knowing look. "Then start acting like it."

Artur didn't reply.

He grabbed another crate, shifting it into place—but his movements were sharper now. Tense.

And still, he couldn't help it.

Another glance.

Jay had leaned in slightly, saying something low. Billy tilted his head, amused, as if entertained by whatever nonsense was coming out of Jay's mouth.

Artur exhaled through his nose.

He turned away, forcing himself to focus.

It didn't matter.

It shouldn't matter.

And yet—

The irritation sat heavy in his chest, unshakable.

Billy didn't mean to keep looking back.

But he did.

Not too obviously. Just small glances. A flicker of his gaze every now and then, barely noticeable.

But every time—every single time—his eyes found Artur.

And every time, he found Artur watching.

Not directly. Not openly.

But it was there.

The glances. The way Artur's fingers clenched slightly around whatever he was holding. The subtle tightness in his jaw.

Billy felt it.

It wasn't just idle observation. It wasn't casual.

It was something else.

Something unreadable. Unsettling.

Something that made the air between them feel different.

He should look away. Ignore it.

But he didn't.

Jay nudged him lightly with an elbow, snapping him out of it.

"You're quiet," Jay said, cocking his head slightly. "Second thoughts about coming with me?"

Billy blinked, then forced a small smile. "No, just thinking."

Jay grinned. "About me? I'm flattered."

Billy rolled his eyes, but before he could reply, Jay casually threw an arm around his shoulder.

And that was when he felt it again.

A shift.

Not from Jay.

From behind them.

Like a presence. A weight. A flicker of something sharp in the air.

Billy's breath hitched, and he didn't need to turn around to know—

Artur was watching.

Again.

And this time, it wasn't subtle.

Billy felt the weight of Artur's gaze long before he turned around.

But he turned anyway.

It wasn't intentional. More like instinct—like something pulled him to look.

And when he did, his stomach clenched.

Artur stood a short distance away, hands curled into loose fists at his sides, jaw tight. He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

That look. That something in his eyes.

It wasn't anger. Not exactly.

But it wasn't neutral, either.

Billy swallowed, his pulse kicking up a notch.

Jay, still oblivious, gave his shoulder a squeeze before dropping his arm. "Come on, let's head out before Artur changes his mind and drags you off to do work."

Billy forced a chuckle, but something in his chest felt...off.

And as they started walking, he did something he knew he shouldn't.

He glanced back.

Again.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

Artur hadn't moved.

He just stood there, staring after them, something dark and unreadable flashing behind his eyes.

Billy tore his gaze away, his steps faltering for just a second before he forced himself forward.

But that feeling—that something—lingered.

And it didn't go away.

As Billy walked away with Jay, he couldn't shake the feeling that Artur's eyes were still on him. He glanced back, and their gazes met for a fleeting moment. Artur's expression was unreadable, but Billy thought he saw a glimmer of something else—something that looked almost like longing.