Ivaan stood still, holding the person who had fallen from above, the sound of water echoing in his ears.
He kept his eyes fixed in confusion. The person seemed far too light for a grown up ....A man.
Then he remembered ,it was the boy who had been with the viscount. 'What is this? How did he fall from above?' Ivaan wondered.
He wanted to speak to him, but the boy looked too afraid, as if he were waiting to be struck by the ground. His eyes were shut tightly, his soft skin and delicate features felt like rose petals, and his short blue hair fluttered slowly in the wind, covering half of his face.
Instead of calming the person who had been in midair only a second ago, Ivaan felt a warning rise to the tip of his tongue. But then, a small firefly drifted in front of his eyes and slowly landed on the boy's nose.
The scene felt unreal, something Ivaan could never have imagined.
The dim glow of the insect lit up the boy's features, bringing out the freckles on his face. Yet the tickling of its tiny feet could not be ignored, and suddenly the boy sneezed.....'Achoo!'
Ivaan felt no pity and let him fall.
The boy hit the ground with a heavy thump. Lying there, he groaned in pain, 'Oh… God, it hurts.'
But in the very next moment, he sat up and checked his arms and legs in surprise. 'What… no injuries at all? God is great!'
He was so lost in admiring God that he completely forgot Ivaan's presence or perhaps he hadn't even noticed him yet. Then he felt something was missing. He gasped and looked down, only to find that his shoe was no longer on his foot.
After checking that his shoe was not on the floor, the boy glanced up and saw a tall, stone-faced man standing in front of him, holding the missing shoe in one hand.
The boy slowly bent forward, pressing both palms flat against the ground and leaning his whole weight onto them. Then, in the very next second, he pushed himself up and tried to stand tall.
The boy stood with quiet elegance, slipping one foot behind the other the shoeless one and lowering his head just so, like a gentle… gentleman. A soft fringe of blue hair fell across his almond-shaped eyes, hiding their expression.
His dark vest and embroidered coat draped loosely over his chest, the sleeves puffed lightly at the shoulders. With refined poise, he extended a hand slender, smaller than that of most men, yet perfectly suited to him.
The boy finally spoke, tilting his head slightly.
"Would you mind giving my shoe back, mister? …Uhm… oh, and what's your name?"
Ivaan's jaw nearly dropped. What? Shouldn't he at least apologize first for falling on someone, no less?
His brow twitched as he stared at the boy in disbelief. What kind of person is this?
The boy waited for a moment, then finally stood tall, his chin tilted ever so slightly.
"Mister, my shoe,that's my shoe. Aren't you going to return it… or are you planning to keep it?"
Ivaan's patience finally snapped.
"Shouldn't you be apologizing first for throwing your shoe on my head?"
The boy blinked at him, tilting his head with a puzzled look.
"Apologize? Wait… my shoe hit your head?"
He stepped back, imagining the whole scene 'a shoe falling, hitting a stone-faced guy ,bang!'.
His lips curled into a pout as he tried to hold back a laugh.
"A shoe hitting a stone guy… bang… haha!"
The boy curled a finger in front of his lips, tilting his head.
"You're right… I should apologize."
He bent at the waist in mock courtesy.
"Here I go, mister, I'm sorry."
Ivaan's expression darkened. Disgust twisted in his chest. A boy dressed in noble clothes, yet not a trace of basic manners.
He stepped forward until they stood nearly chest to chest. The boy, barely five-foot-three, felt the weight of that presence pressing down on him like stone.
His imagination flickered ,he pictured himself bursting into tears, bawling in front of this giant. The thought nearly made him laugh and cry at once.
He smirked instead, tilting his chin.
"Hey, old man… would you mind taking a step back?"
"Whom are you calling old man, punk?" Ivaan growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't look a day over twenty-nine."
The boy tilted his head, words spilling out in a rush as his gaze darted away.
"Well… if you don't look older than twenty-nine, that means you're already past it. Which makes you… what? Early thirties? And I'm not. So technically, yes. you are old, mister."
His lips curved in a sly little smile, though he still avoided Ivaan's eyes.
For a moment, something heavy in the air shifted. Instinct made him try to step back.
But Ivaan's hand shot out, catching his arm before he could retreat. The sudden grip nearly sent the boy stumbling only his quick balance kept him upright. His breath hitched, realizing just how close he stood to that cold, immovable presence.
Without waiting for a second, he pulled his hand free and tried to kick Ivaan's face "nuclear kick"… swish!
But before his foot could even reach Ivaan's face, it was blocked by Ivaan's arm… bash!
The boy stood on one leg, the other trapped in Ivaan's grip. Just then he realized ,it was the stone guy's turn now. And if he got hit by this man, he would be finished.
Both of them were interrupted by a shout:
"Stop, Lior!"
The boy glanced behind Ivaan and saw someone calling out to him. "Father !" he shouted.
Meanwhile, Ivaan still held Lior's leg and his shoe.
Ivaan turned to see who it was… and it was none other than the Viscount himself.