Unrequited Love

Chapter 1

Dustfinger stood in the rain, his hair sticking to his face, staring at the one window that had light in it. This was the house in which the person he loved most lived. The person who hurt him the most. The person who had no fucking idea what he felt. But he didn’t blame him. He was just a boy.
 

Every time he left this house, he promised to himself never to come back, never put himself through this misery again. But sure enough, at the end of every week he returns to here.
 

Since Capricorn’s death he had finally given up on trying to go home. He and Farid had wandered around for a few weeks, before Dustfinger had brought him back to Mo and Meggie and Resa. The boy had to go to school, he had decided. He was still young enough to learn all the things that Dustfinger himself couldn’t. So, Farid stayed with the family.
 

It only took a few days without the boy for him to notice that he had much stronger feelings for him. It took another 4 months to admit it to himself. Since then, he had worked in the week and spent the weekend with the four others, thinking that just being with Farid, being close to him, would do the trick.
 

But he soon found he was wrong.
 

While he was desperately in love with the former thief, Farid had fallen just as hard for Meggie, or the little princess, how he liked to call her. It made Dustfinger sick - watching Farid bounce around her like a little dog, begging for attention and love. Something he would have died for to give him.
 

But Meggie, to Dustfingers big relief, didn’t seem to share the same feelings for the boy. So maybe, he thought, maybe Farid would forget her, and it would all be okay for a while.
 

Again, he was wrong.
 

One Saturday, Dustfinger had barely arrived at the house, they confessed their relationship. It broke his heart.
 

Still, he returned to this house every weekend, and tortured himself, put himself through hell. He watched Farid and Meggie, such a cute couple, and all he wanted to do was scream and set something on fire. Anything.
 

Last week he had promised himself not to put himself through this, promised that he wouldn’t let himself be hurt again…
 

And now he was standing in the garden, starring at the house he loved and hated so much, all at the same time.
 

He didn’t want to go in, didn’t want to see Farid and Meggie. Didn’t want to see Resa and Mo. Didn’t want to see anyone who was happy and in love.
 

He started walking, cursing himself inside, and knocked on the door. Only moments later, the door was opened.
 

Farid stood in front of him, grinning, and said “You’re late Dustfinger. We’ve been waiting for you.”
 

“Sorry.” the blonde just said (Komma weg) and pushed Farid aside to step in. He took of his wet coat, combed his hair back and looked at him. “You know you can start eating without me. What if I decide not to come one weekend? You’ll starve.”
 

“We know you always come, Dustfinger.” Meggie said, standing at the door to the kitchen. “Come on, it’s time to eat. We’re all hungry.”
 

Taking off his shoes, Dustfinger shot a look at the girl. She had grown to look even more beautiful since he had seen her last week, looking more like her mother with every day that passed. //Love does make women beautiful// Dustfinger thought. //This little girl is the best example.//
 

Followed by Farid, the blonde man walked into the kitchen. In the corner of his eye he could see Farid giving Meggie a kiss behind his back. The heat in his hands increased. If he wasn’t careful, he would put something on fire.

Taking a deep breath, he sat down at the table, where Mo and Resa were already waiting.
 

“I’m sorry I’m late.” he apologized again. “The rain slowed me down.”

“You should get your driver’s-license and get a car, Dustfinger.” Mo suggested, as Meggie and Farid sat down, holding hands.

The heat in his body began to rise again. //Cool down. Literally.// he reminded himself, avoiding looking at Farid or his

girlfriend.
 

“I don’t like cars, and you know it. They’re loud and dangerous. I have two absolutely healthy feet and legs. I can walk.” he answered, watching as everybody helped themselves to some food. As always, he waited for everybody to serve themselves before taking anything. He felt uncomfortable eating the food someone else had bought and worked for.
 

While everyone else, except Resa of course, started chit-chatting, Dustfinger was quiet. He concentrated on his food, not wanting to engage into any conversation. But then Mo called his attention.
 

“Dustfinger?” he asked carefully. Something about his tone made him suspicious.
 

“Yes?” he answered, looking up from his plate and into four a little worried faces.
 

Mo hesitated, and then started “We, uhm… we know that you had a family…”
 

Dustfinger shot Mo a sharp look “…have. I’m sorry, you have a family back in the book and all that, but… we all think it’s time for you to let go.”
 

Dustfinger wanted to say something, tell them to shut up, because none of them had the slightest idea how it was to lose a family, knowing they were waiting… but Mo just kept going.
 

“A friend of mine, her name is Sarah and she’s an artist, has seen you around her and expressed her interest in you, so I promised to ask you if you would like to go out with her.” Mo talked quickly, as if he didn’t want to allow Dustfinger time to speak or protest.
 

“We know it’s hard.” Meggie continued. “But we just think it’s time for you to be happy again. Fall in love.” Resa nodded her agreement. “Please, just give it a try?”
 

For a few moments, Dustfinger didn’t say anything, and everybody looked at him.
 

“Fall in love, you say?” he asked quietly, looking at their faces one at a time. “Be happy, yes?” His blood was boiling up, his hands started burning.
 

“Do you know ANYTHING?!” he yelled, jumping up from his chair. It was too much for him. Too much to bare.
 

“Do you KNOW how it feels, KNOWING somebody who loves you is waiting for you?!” Fire burst out of his hands, luckily not burning anything, because he was standing.
 

“Do you know HOW it feels to fall in love with someone you CAN’T HAVE?!” Shaking with fury, Dustfinger found it very hard not to grab something and burn it to ashes. “You’ve got no idea. I have a family waiting for me, CHILDREN, Silvertounge, CHILDREN.”
 

He looked at Resa “Then, I fell in love with you. Don’t DARE act you didn’t know. But I couldn’t have you. So AGAIN I ended up all alone.” His voice grew louder with every word, but started shaking just as hard as he was loud. “You don’t know anything. NOTHING!”
 

Mo stood up, lifting his hands, slowly walking towards Dustfinger like if he was an angry animal that needed to be calmed.
 

“Dustfinger, I know how you feel. Please, just give this a chance. She’s really nice and she…”
 

“Shut UP!” A ball of fire hit the wall behind Mo’s back, leaving a big black stain. Resa rushed Meggie and Farid out of the room, looking back at him. Scared.
 

This look made Dustfinger even more upset, hurt him, made him want to cry, hurt her, himself, anything… just to get rid of these feelings that killed him from the inside.
 

“Feel like you have to protect them from me, Resa?!” he yelled, his voice bitter. Mo was still standing there, looking at him. Maybe he was too shocked to do anything.
 

Then suddenly, Farid popped back into the room, pushing Mo aside.

“Stop it Dustfinger, please!” he said, absolutely calm. “Please. You have got to calm down.”
 

Slowly, the fire in Dustfinger settled down. Absolutely calm he looked at the boy in front of him and said “None of you have any idea what pain I went through.”
 

Farid just nodded slightly “We’re sorry.”
 

“…sorry I burnt your wall.” Dustfinger answered. He was not sorry for the outburst, so he didn’t apologize for it. “I better go.”

Mo made a step forward, finally regaining his ability to move and talk. “No, please stay. You can stay.”
 

Dustfinger shook his head “I’ll see you around. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. Tell Meggie and Resa I’m sorry, I’ll fix the wall.”
 

Grabbing his coat and putting on his shoes, Dustfinger left the house, walking right into the rain again. He didn’t know where to go, or where he could stay the night, but it didn’t matter. He had slept in the rain before. If he didn’t find anything else he’d just curl up under a big tree.
 

Slowly he started walking towards the road, when suddenly somebody called: “Hey! Please wait!”
 

Dustfinger stopped, even though he didn’t recognize the voice. As he turned around, a woman was walking towards him, holding an umbrella in her hand.

“Hey.” she said as she stood right in front of him, and smiled. “You look like you need a place to stay. My name is Sarah Engel. Maybe I can provide you with a warm shower, a bed and food.”
 

Confused, Dustfinger looked at her. “You shouldn’t invite strangers into your home, Sarah Engel.” he said. “It could be someone dangerous.”
 

“But you aren’t dangerous.” Sarah answered, still smiling. “You are wet, cold and tired. Come on now. I bet a warm shower and some new clothes would do you good.” And then she turned around and walked away to a house close to Mo’s.
 

For a few seconds, Dustfinger just stood there, hesitant. Then he followed her.

As if she hadn’t expected anything other than this, she held the door open for him, and Dustfinger closed it behind himself.
 

As he took off his shoes he took a closer look to the woman who was now sheltering him. Her eyes were a brilliant green, her hair a dark red, and her skin was the color of ivory. He found that she was very beautiful.
 

“You know, once someone tells you their name, you usually introduce yourself as well.” she said, hanging her jacket on a hook that was attached to the wall.
 

“Dustfinger.” he answered, standing up and hanging his coat over hers.
 

“Dustfinger?” she asked, looking at him. “That’s your real name?”
 

“For as long as I could remember it has been my name, yes.” he said, smiling warily. His name always made people look at him with an expression of confusion and disbelieve in their faces. He was used to it.
 

“Okay, so Dustfinger.” Sarah said, once again smiling. “Let me show you the bathroom, and I’ll give you some clothes.”
 

“I’d prefer wearing my clothes.” the blonde man said “I don’t think women’s clothes would look good on me.”
 

Laughing, Sarah combed a streak of her hair behind her ear and said “My old boyfriend left some stuff here. You can wear that. Even though the thought of you in one of my skirts is very amusing.” Then she walked off to the bathroom.
 

Dustfinger had to admit that Sarah wasn’t bad. She was nice, witty, and beautiful. But still, she didn’t make him feel the way Farid did. Farid…
 

He followed her, and then thanked her, but Sarah just smiled.
 

“I’ll make you some food. Take your time. I’ll lay the clothes in front of the door.” Dustfinger nodded, and then watched her walk away.
 

Closing the door behind himself, he started taking of his clothes, and got under the shower. The warm water on his body made him feel a lot better, and he felt relaxed.
 

When Dustfinger got out of the shower, he could smell the food that Sarah had made for him, and it made his mouth water. Resa’s cooking was okay, but nothing compared to the way how his wife used to cook.
 

The smell reminded him of something he had used to smell every day. It wasn’t quite the same, but it was similar.
 

Quickly throwing on the clothing that Sarah had laid out for him, he followed the smell of the food.
 

Sarah was just placing a bowl of soup and a couple slices of bread on the table for him, as he walked in.
 

“Feeling better?” she asked, and smiled at him. Had he told her, that he had felt bad?
 

“Yeah.” he just answered, and sat down. “Thank’s for the clothes and the food and stuff.”
 

“Oh yeah, don’t worry.” she said, smiling, and sitting down across of him. “So, Dustfinger, where are you from?”
 

Dustfinger had barely taken a sip of the soup as he answered “From a land, far, far away from here. The soup is very good by the way.”
 

Sarah just smiled “So, you are obviously the mysterious kind of man.”
 

Dustfinger just laughed “You have no idea.” Sarah liked him, Dustfinger could tell. The way she looked at him, the way she talked. Almost like his wife...
 

“I bet I don’t.” she said, standing up. “While you eat, I’m gonna make your bed. Please feel free to get some more. There is some in the kitchen.”
 

Again, Dustfinger thanked Sarah, and watched her walk away. He didn’t know how he felt about the woman, that reminded him of his wife so intensely. But he was sure that he would soon figure it out.

Chapter 2

The next day, Dustfinger was woken by a soft voice calling his name. At first he had thought it was the voice of Roxanne, and that everything that had happened was just a bad dream. But as he opened his eyes, it was Sarah that was leaning over his bed, softly shaking him.
 

“Good Morning.” she said, as he opened his eyes, looking at her a little confused and still sleepy. Sarah had pulled her hair to a loose ponytail, making her look a little more serious then yesterday. She was wearing a white sweater and a pair of blue jeans. All in all a very beautiful and natural woman.
 

“Good Morning.” he answered, rubbing his eyes a little so he could see clearer. “What time is it?”
 

“10 a.m.” she answered, walking to the window and opening it. “The weather is a lot better today. Sunny and warm. Do you like the sun?”
 

Dustfinger starred at her for a few seconds, and the expression on his face was clearly asking: Why the hell do you want to know?
 

“I guess...” he answered. “Anything is better then rain.” It was the truth. The Rain made it impossible for him to play with the fire, his most favorite thing in this story and in the story he came from. Without the fire, he was nothing.
 

Sarah laughed, and then said “Well, I gotta go to work know. I left you some breakfast in the kitchen. Please feel free to use anything.”
 

Somehow, Sarah made him feel like a little child. Maybe because she was taking care of him like he was one, or maybe because he had the feeling that she didn’t take him very serious some times. Or maybe he was just still half asleep.
 

So all he did in response was nod, and she walked out of the room. He could here her grab keys, and then how she closed the door.
 

Silence fell over the house, making Dustfinger feel a little out of place. Whenever he was traveling and working, it was always loud. And when he was at Silvertounge’s Place, it too was always loud. In the silence, he felt lost.
 

So he quickly got up, realizing that he still had the clothes of Sarah’s Ex-boyfriend on. Where were his clothes?
 

It only took a few minutes for him to discover that they were laying next to his bed on a chair, neatly folded. By the look of them, Sarah had probably washed and ironed them.
 

Somehow he felt bad now. She had done so much for him, and he hadn’t done anything in return. He would have to make it up to her.
 

After a quick shower he slipped back into his clothes, and walked down into the kitchen were he ate the breakfast that Sarah had mad him.
 

‘Almost as if we were married’ he thought, but then shook his head. He and Sarah weren’t married, and as much as she reminded him of his wife, she wasn’t Roxanne. Maybe she was the Roxanne of this story. But she wasn’t his Roxanne.
 

After cleaning up the plate he grabbed his coat and walked back to the house the had left last night. After all there was still a wall that had to be fixed.
 

While he was walking he thought about how he should act. Maybe he should just act normal, as if nothing had happened. Maybe apologize to Meggie and Resa, and then just let it be. He couldn’t undo it anyway. No use to brood about it all day.
 

As he arrived at the house, he rung the doorbell, and it was soon opened. Resa looked at him, with a shy smile on her face. Dustfinger wondered if she was still scared.
 

“Hey. I came to fix the wall.” was all he said, and Resa let him in. He walked to the wall he had damaged yesterday, and nodded slightly. “I think I can do this.” Again Resa just nodded.
 

So, Dustfinger started fixing the wall. He had a lot of practice, and luckily Silvertounge had everything he needed in his basement. He hadn’t burnt the wall bad, so the damage was cursory.
 

He was just finishing it up as he heard a very familiar voice call his name.
 

“Dustfinger?” Farid asked, and looked at him. He still seemed insecure, as if he wasn’t completely sure that he had calmed down.
 

“Yes, Farid?” Dustfinger asked, looking at the boy. Again, he was captured by the unique beauty of the boy. The dark skin, the big eyes, the long eyelashes... Farid seemed more like a prince then a thief. The author had clearly messed up the story.
 

“Are you... how are you feeling?” Farid asked, walking towards him, and taking a look at the wall. It looked like he was checking if the wall looked the way it did before, but Dustfinger knew that this wasn’t Farid’s intention. He just wanted to be close Dustfinger.
 

The blond man knew that Farid loved him, loved him a lot... but not in the way that he loved Farid. For the boy he was more like a father then anything else. In the past, when he and Farid had traveled together, whenever Farid was scared he had cuddled up to Dustfinger, searching comfort and security. Or every time when the fire hat bit him, Farid had sat next to him, staring at the wound as if trying to heal it with magic. The boy cared for him a lot. And it pained Dustfinger, that he didn’t care about him in the same way as he cared about Farid.
 

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I was so upset yesterday.” Dustfinger replied, looking at the boy with an almost sorrowful expression on his face. Farid was so near and so far at the same time. He could smell the boys scent, feel the warmth of his body close to his. It was torture.
 

Farid looked up, straight into his face. He always had the feeling the boy was trying to read his mind when he starred at him like that, with a searching expression on his face. Luckily, he couldn’t find out what Dustfinger thought. It would probably send him into shock.
 

Then, without a warning, Farid hugged him. Surprised, Dustfinger just stood there a few seconds. Finally realizing, he laid his arms around Farid and pulled him into a tight embrace.
 

Dustfinger cherished these rare moments when he could be close to Farid like this. They didn’t hug often, because Farid knew that Dustfinger didn’t like hugs. In the beginning Dustfinger really hadn’t liked hugs, but now every hug of the boy made him feel like he was in heaven.
 

But he always waited for Farid to hug him. He had to. He couldn’t allow himself to touch the boy, because once he started, he wasn’t sure if he could stop. He had to keep his self-control, and by not touching him, he did.
 

Farid’s hands were on his back, gripping his shirt. Why was he holding on so hard? Why was he pressing his face to Dustfinger’s chest? Something was wrong with the boy. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Because if he did, Farid might let go. And that was the last thing he wanted to happen. He wanted to hold Farid in his arms forever, and never let him go. He was an egoist, and he should be ashamed of himself, he knew it. But he couldn’t make himself ask. He just couldn’t.
 

Was it Farid’s heart or his own that was pounding so loudly that he could hear it? Dustfinger looked down at the boy. He had hidden his face , and all he could see was the long dark hair.
 

Slowly he lowered his head to the boys head, and planted a soft kiss on his hair. Eagerly he breathed in the sweet scent of the boy, burning it into his memory so he would never forget it. Not that he would ever be able to. But he had to enjoy this moment to the fullest, get everything out of it that he could. Who knew when he would be this close to Farid again?
 

Softly he stroked the boys hair, watching as he pressed himself up against him even harder. Never had Farid done anything like this, and Dustfinger was worried.
 

Finally he took a deep breath and then asked “Farid, is everything okay? Are you feeling sick?”
 

Farid just shook his head, still holding on to Dustfinger as if his life depended on it. Something was very, very wrong.
 

Softly Dustfinger stroked his back, just comforting him. He had never been good at comforting people and most of the time he ran away from people who needed it. But for Farid, he wanted to give his best.
 

The boy stood there for few minutes, just holding on to him, and then slowly moved out of the embrace.
 

“I’m sorry...” he muttered, not looking at the taller mans face. “I...” he stopped, and then just shook his head.
 

“What is it?” Dustfinger asked, his voice low and soothing. “You know you can always talk to me.”
 

Farid looked up at the man, sighted, and then mumbled “It’s just that I miss you a lot.”
 

Dustfinger looked down at him, and swallowed. It was too much.
 

Slowly, Dustfinger pulled Farid back to his chest, bent down to his ear and softly whispered “I miss you too...”
 

He could feel the boy shudder in his arms, and his heart started beating faster. He knew this was wrong, he knew he had to stop... but it felt so good, so right to have the boy so close. How could he ever let him go now, that he had said something so sweet, something that made his thoughts turn to smoke in his head?
 

Farid didn’t struggle, didn’t try to get away, but Dustfinger wasn’t surprised. He trusted him. Why would he push him away?
 

After a few seconds Dustfinger loosened his grip on the boy, but didn’t let him go either. He just pushed him away far enough so he could look into his face, and still hold him in an embrace.
 

Such a perfect face. Such beautiful, shining eyes. Such bewitching lips. Often Dustfinger had imagined how it would feel to kiss these perfect lips. Soft and warm he imagined them. Now, he wanted to find out if he was right.
 

The voice in his head screamed that he should stop, that he was insane even to think about kissing the boy right there were everybody could see. But Dustfinger didn’t care about rationality and what was right. The boy was worth any sin there was.
 

The confusion in the eyes of Farid was cute, sweet, making Dustfinger want to kiss him even more. Everything about the boy made him want to kiss him. He was totally and completely lost in him.
 

He lowered his face, inch by inch, slowly coming closer to the boys face, who’s eyes started to widen. Was he finally understanding what Dustfinger was about to do? He was only a few inches away from Farid now, the boy still didn’t move. Maybe he wanted it to? The thought crossed Dustfingers mind and was quickly gone.
 

No way Farid wanted to kiss him too. No way the boy was in love with him as insanely as Dustfinger was with him. He knew it. But even this didn’t make him stop.
 

He was close, so close to the person he loved, so close to finally kissing him, finally getting what he wanted most in this whole world. Only a little closer and he would make him his....!
 

“Dustfinger? Farid?” Dustfinger was startled by the voice that was calling them. Meggie.
 

Immediately he let go of the boy, jumped back, and starred at him with shock. The boy starred back with a similar expression, blinking twice.
 

Dustfinger could have shot himself right there and then. How could he be so stupid, so foolish?! WHY had he let himself loose control like a stupid, horny teenager? Had he gone mad? Had the loneliness made him insane?! There was no way that Farid would ever want to be in a room with him after this ever again.
 

Both of them didn’t move, didn’t speak. Neither of them dared to say the first word. Luckily they didn’t have to.
 

Meggie walked into the room, looked at both of them and then laughed “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is something wrong?” She walked over to Farid, gave him a kiss and then looked at him.
 

“No, everything’s okay.” Dustfinger answered quickly. From all the people he didn’t want to know, Meggie was one of the Top 3. “Sorry we didn’t answer. What’s up?”

Meggie looked at Dustfinger and then smiled “Oh, Mo just wanted to know what you guy’s wanted to eat. He want’s to barbecue and bought ton’s of stuff to eat. All you’ve got to do is pick something.”
 

Dustfinger nodded, forcing himself to smile and said “Okay. So, where is the food so we can pick?”
 

“It’s already in the garden with Mo. Come on, I’ll bring you guys there.” she took Farid’s hand, who finally was looking close to normal again, and pulled him towards the garden.
 

Dustfinger stayed behind a few seconds, starring at the boys back. He could hear Meggie talk to him, and Farid responded as if nothing had happened.
 

It took Dustfinger minutes until he was ready to follow them. He had to force himself to stay on his feet, smile, and make it seem like nothing was wrong. He couldn’t let anybody know how he felt or what had happened. If he did, he would loose them, every single one, he was sure of that. And he would never be able to see Farid again.
 

So as he got to the garden, he started talking to Silvertounge, avoiding every contact with Farid. It was the only way not to burst out in tears over his own stupidity.
 

Only a few minutes later Sara joined them, and started talking to him. But Dustfinger wasn’t in the mood for small talk. He wasn’t in the mood for anything. And there was a valued reason.
 

Never had he felt so stupid and horrible before in his whole life.

Chapter 3

Okay, so first of all, I want to say thank you to everybody who commented and added this story to their favorites or alert, or just read it. You guys are awesome, and I'm very happy that you like the story.
 

Then I want to apologize about all the mistakes I make. I will do my best to avoid it, and if anybody wants to beta the next chapter, just write me a message. I would be very pleased if somebody volunteered.
 

Now, I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Have fun reading.
 

***
 

Mo was standing in the garden, in front of a grill. There was a big wooden table in the middle of the garden, with matching chairs placed around it. Dustfinger quickly counted. eight chairs. But why eight? How many were they?
 

Meggie, Farid, Resa, Sarah, Mo and himself... that made six. So why eight chairs? Dustfinger was confused.
 

"Elinor and Darius are coming to stay with us for a few days." Dustfinger spun around to the person that had just talked to him. "I invited them."
 

Mo smiled at him, as if the fact that they would soon have even more company was something good. And to Silvertongue, it probably was. "The more the merrier!" he always said. Dustfinger didn't know if it were true.
 

Dustfinger didn't dislike Darius. He was a shy, insecure, but very kind man. He didn't get in anybody's way and was smart. No, Dustfinger couldn't say that he disliked Darius. But he didn't like him either. He simply didn't care about him, which was probably because he just didn't have anything to do with Darius.
 

Maybe he stays out of my way because he's scared that I'll burn his books, he mused, watching as Mo talked to Resa. He's exactly like Elinor when it comes to books. Just the thought of the old woman made him flinch.
 

Dustfinger didn't like her, and she didn't like him. The old bookworm had never forgiven him for showing Capricorn's people where she lived, and she still blamed him for the loss of the books Capricorn's men had destroyed.
 

It's good though, he thought, absently watching a bird fly over the house. This way I have one person less to make small talk with. And we can be in a room without killing each other. But I'm pretty sure Elinor would like to kill me more often then I her.
 

"Dustfinger!" Mo's voice once again woke him from his daydreaming. "Can you help us out here? I don't know where I put the lighter."
 

"Sure." With a few steps Dustfinger was standing beside Mo, rubbing his hands, quickly checking that nobody was watching. If Sarah saw what he did, she would probably start asking questions, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen. But Sarah didn't seem to be in the garden, he didn't see Meggie or Farid, either. It seemed safe. He opened his hands, and a small flame was dancing over the skin of his palm. "There you go."
 

"Thank you." Mo quickly picked up a charcoal with a pincer, and held it right into the flame Dustfinger was offering him. Only a few seconds later he put it next to the other charcoals, and closed the lid to the grill.
 

Dustfinger just nodded in reply. Mo knew that it wasn't a problem for him, so why bother saying it?
 

"You aren't happy with Elinor coming, are you?" Mo asked. He seemed to have a knack for knowing what Dustfinger was feeling or thinking.
 

"I don't get along with Elinor that well, you know that, Silvertongue. But it doesn't really matter. I'm leaving tomorrow morning anyway. I have to work."
 

"Why don't you stay a little longer Dustfinger? Just a few days. I'm sure everyone would be thrilled. Sarah would certainly be pleased." Mo winked at him.
 

Dustfinger forced a small smile and said "I'll think about it." There was no use in saying "No." Silvertongue wouldn't accept any answer other than a "Yes" or a "I'll think about it."
 

He was of course not going to think about it, but Silvertongue was so easily pleased and so naive. When Dustfinger lied to Mo, it almost felt like lying to a puppy, staring at you with two big, loyal eyes. He knew Mo trusted him, and believed whatever he said.
 

But sometimes Dustfinger had to stretch the truth. Because sometimes people deserved more than the truth. Sometimes the truth just wasn't good enough.
 

"Dustfinger!" Meggie called, walking into the garden. She was beaming at him, as if she had a surprise for him. Dustfinger gulped. He didn't like surprises. And to be totally frank, Meggie's surprised were almost never good ones.
 

"Yes, Meggie?" he asked, watching her walk towards him.
 

Meggie stopped right in front of him and said, "I was telling Sarah about your fire-breathing and all that stuff, and she was really impressed. She doesn't want to ask you because she doesn't want to be impolite, but do you think you could show her some of it? Or maybe have a show for us?"
 

"Meggie I..." he started, but was quickly interrupted.
 

"That sounds like a great idea!" Mo said, while he put meat on the grill. "I'm sure we would all enjoy some of your magic, Dustfinger."
 

It was hard to say no to one person, but to two... Dustfinger felt helpless. But he didn't want to show his magic today; he wasn't in the mood. Again he wanted to speak, but then again was interrupted.
 

"You really should Dustfinger. I bet it would be a lot of fun." Farid's voice sounded so sweet. Dustfinger turned his head towards the boy, who was standing only a few steps away to his right.
 

Dustfinger had to smile. Farid still moved as quickly and as soundlessly as he used to when they had traveled together. Nothing had changed.
 

"So, will you do it?" Meggie asked impatiently. Dustfinger looked at Farid for a few seconds, trying to find out what the boy was thinking. Was he going to act like nothing had happened? It was probably the best choice.
 

"Okay. Why not." Dustfinger finally said. He couldn't say "No" to Farid. He just couldn't. And the others can enjoy it too. I guess it's a good idea. Maybe it'll distract me.
 

"Oh, thank you, Dustfinger! It will be so much fun!" Meggie gave him a hug, then moved away quickly. Everybody knew that hugs made him uncomfortable, so when they hugged him, they kept it brief. Dustfinger was thankful for that.
 

Meggie wandered off with Farid, leaving him alone again. Slowly, Dustfinger looked around the garden. Meggie and Farid had sat down at the table and were talking and cuddling. He swiftly looked away. Seeing how happy they were just hurt too much.
 

He glanced at Mo, who was standing at the grill with Resa. She was smiling, he was talking... they were happy, too. Dustfinger almost choked on the atmosphere of love and happiness. Was he ever going to be happy again?
 

As he continued to look around, Sarah caught his attention. She was walking towards the table, holding a tray with drinks, bottles, forks, knifes, and plates on it. It was clearly too heavy, and Sarah was staggering dangerously.
 

He rushed to her, placing one hand under the tray to support it and take away some of the weight. "It's too heavy. Let me help you."
 

"No, I'm fine, really!" Sarah said, but Dustfinger could see that she had to make a great deal of effort to hold the tray and give him a small smile.
 

"You're quite stubborn." he said, gently taking the tray from her. "Let me help you for me, then."
 

Sarah looked at him, pouting slightly. Dustfinger couldn't help but smile. She was so much like Roxanne in a way... but it didn't matter. She was not his Roxanne. And he was in love with someone else.
 

"I could have done that. But thank you," Sarah said, the small pout on her face not yet completely gone.
 

"You're welcome. And I'm sure you could have," Dustfinger replied. "Is there anything else I can help with?"
 

"Well, right now I don't think there is. But I did want to ask you for a favor," Sarah said, playing with a strand of her hair. "I have a bookcase that needs to be put together. But it's too heavy and too big for me. Do you think you could help me out sometime? Maybe tomorrow?"
 

Dustfinger wanted to say "No." He really did. He had absolutely no desire to build a bookcase. But Sarah had let him stay in her house, had cooked for him, washed and ironed his clothes, and let him take a shower. He owed her. Seemed like Silvertongue was going to get his wish. He was going to have to stay another night.
 

"Sure," he said, again forcing a smile. "It can be done. Just tell me when you're awake, and I'll come over."
 

"Great. Thank you so much!" Sarah smiled again, and then walked over to Resa, asking if there was anything else to do.
 

When Dustfinger turned around to Meggie and Farid, Farid was watching him. The brown eyes looked upset, mad. Dustfinger blinked. Was Farid finally beginning to be mad at him? But he had acted normally before...
 

Doesn't really matter, does it? He's mad. And he has every right to be. Dustfinger turned his head away, not able to stand the look Farid was giving him. It just hurt too much. Why did he have to be so stupid?
 

A few minutes later the doorbell rang, and Dustfingers head turned in the direction of the house. "Dustfinger, could you get that? It's probably Elinor and Darius," Mo said, and Dustfinger nodded.
 

He hurried into the house, not wanting to make Elinor and Darius wait too long. Elinor tended to get grumpy when she had to wait, and Dustfinger couldn't handle a grumpy Elinor today. He wasn't sure if he could handle her at all, but he really didn't have a choice. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.
 

"Well, isn't that the match-eater," Elinor said. "So you're joining us, too. What a surprise."
 

"Hello to you, too, Elinor. Darius." He gave the man a short nod which was returned with a nod and a smile.
 

"Well, are you going to let us in or let us stand here for another hour?" Elinor asked impatiently. Dustfinger took a step to the side and let them come in.
 

"She's not in a very good mood I fear," Darius whispered to him, as if he were trying to apologize for Elinor's rude behavior.
 

"You don't say," Dustfinger muttered, closing the door behind the new guests. This evening would be a hand full, he could already tell.
 

He lead Elinor and Darius to the garden, where they were immediately greeted by everyone. Even Sarah seemed to know them both, because she wasn't introduced. They had probably met the last time the Bookworm and the Reader had visited.
 

"Food's ready everyone, so go ahead and sit down," Mo called, grinning like a child. He was happy about all the company, Dustfinger could tell. The man had always been a people person. Dustfinger himself was quite the opposite. He didn't like too many people in one place.
 

As they all sat down, Dustfinger noticed that nobody had taken the place on the right side of Sarah. They have got to be kidding me. Do I look that desperate? Slowly, Dustfinger sat down next to her, everybody smiling at him. How am I ever going to survive this?
 

After they had all stopped eating, it was story time. It was a tradition that Mo had brought to the family. As soon as he saw that everybody was done, he started telling a

story. It was widely appreciated, and even Dustfinger had do admit that he liked listening to Mo. His voice enchanted everybody, and made the story come alive.
 

The sun started to sink, and Dustfinger got up from his chair. "Well, I'm going to prepare some stuff. I'll be done at about ten o'clock." He looked around and smiled.

"Everybody is welcomed to watch. I think the garden will be fine. Is that okay with you, Silvertongue?"
 

"Only if you promise not to burn down my house," Mo said, grinning cheekily at him.
 

Dustfinger just forced out a laugh and nodded. "I promise. I'll see you later."
 

Dustfinger walked into the house, picking up the bag that he had totally forgotten all this time. He would probably have to borrow some things from Mo, but since he was the one who had asked him, it would probably be okay. Not that it wouldn't be if I had made the suggestion, he thought, slowly walking down into the garden, far away from the others who were cleaning up the table. He would probably give anybody whatever they want as long as it isn't his family or his books. Such a good-hearted fool.

He started unpacking his things, carefully laying them out on the floor. He prepared far away from the others, so they didn't see what he was doing. He wanted to surprise them. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.
 

He was wrapping some cloth around a torch, as suddenly someone asked, "Need help getting ready?"
 

Dustfinger spun around, and was now facing Farid. The boy looked at him as if nothing had happened, smiling slightly. "I can help you if you like."
 

"Uh... sure," Dustfinger answered, somewhat surprised. Was the boy pregnant or on his period? It wasn't like Farid to change moods so fast. "You can wrap some more cloth around the... things." Dustfinger was too confused to remember the word.
 

Farid laughed, and then said, "Okay. I'll wrap some cloth around the things." He knelt down beside him, his hand moving quickly and precisely to do what Dustfinger had asked. Dustfinger had to admit that Farid was just as good as him. Well... sometimes. I still play with the fire better than he does, he thought, as if to soothe and build up his ego. But what was really bothering him was: Why was Farid acting normally?
 

They worked in silence, Dustfinger trying to concentrate on the task before him. Farid glanced at him a few times, but didn't say anything. The silence wasn't awkward, not at all. It was calming.
 

When the torches were done, Dustfinger got out the small balls that he used for juggling. He held them in his hands, softly tossing them up in the air and catching them again.
 

"So, Sarah really likes you, I heard," Farid suddenly said, watching as Dustfinger threw the balls into the air with more force now.
 

"I guess," Dustfinger answered, catching the last ball and looking at Farid.
 

"Are you going to go for her?" Farid pressed him, still preparing the torches and dipping them in the fluid that would later make them burn easier.
 

"I don't know," Dustfinger answered again. "She's a nice woman."
 

Farid nodded slightly, with a thoughtful expression on his face. "But do you like her? I mean, the way she likes you?"
 

"Farid, I really don't know. Why do you want to know anyway?" Dustfinger asked, taking out a cassette recorder and placing it on the floor. "Do you like her?"
 

"Of course not!" Farid immediately said. "She's nice, but she's way too old for me."
 

"Then why do you ask?" Dustfinger looked at the boy carefully, not wanting to stare to openly.
 

"I don't know..." Farid said, now also standing up. "It's... I feel weird when she's around you. I don't think she's good enough for you."
 

Dustfinger arched a brow and asked "Not good enough for me? Then who is? I'm not much of a catch, you know? Wandering around the world, often depressed. Not to forget my beautiful face."
 

"You are a good catch! I wish you would start seeing that," Farid replied simply, and took a step towards Dustfinger. The fire-eater couldn't move. Whenever Farid was near him, it was like he was paralyzed.
 

Farid took another step forward, and now was standing only a few inches away from Dustfinger. "I don't get how you got this twisted opinion of yourself," he said, his hand reaching up to touch the scars that marked Dustfinger's face. "I think you're very handsome."
 

Dustfinger couldn't believe what he was hearing, seeing, feeling... There Farid was, the boy he loved more than anyone else in this world, and he was telling him that he found him handsome. Relax, Dustfinger... he thought, taking a deep breath. He's just trying to help you be more self-confident... or he doesn't know how to act around you anymore. Or he has lost his mind, just like I lost mine.
 

"The scars give your face character, make it special." Farid slowly touched the blond hair now. "Your hair is nice and soft, and your eyes are a nice color, too. Nobody plays with the fire better than you." Farid moved even closer to Dustfinger now. Dustfinger noticed that Farid's hands were shaking, as if he were nervous.
 

"Farid..." Dustfinger said, looking right into the brown eyes that were not watching his face. "You're exaggerating."
 

"I only speak the truth to you," Farid answered, moving his face closer and closer to his. "I think you're very good-looking."
 

It had to be a dream. It just had to be. Dustfinger watched as Farid's face came closer, watched the boy close his eyes. The hot breath was like a gush on his lips, and it made Dustfinger's knees grow weak.
 

Farid was so close, he could smell his scent, feel the warmth of his body. He felt his own blood rush through his veins, his heartbeat increasing dramatically. He couldn't move, talk, or even breath.
 

Farid was going to kiss him, and Dustfinger didn't have the foggiest idea why. He was about to close his eyes as well, and let it happen when suddenly...