Only one thing mattered right now. Nothing else. I no longer cared about the pounding headache I had, the sweat dripping in my eyes, nor the excruciating pain that shot from my ankle each time my right foot struck the ground. All that mattered was that I kept moving. My feet were moving at an impossible speed. Well, impossible for a chair. When chairmoding failed, all I could do was run. I would defend myself... but I'm not really that type of guy.
The bro always goes for the easiest target. Well, when Pewdie isn't around to scream and run around like a chicken with it's head cut off, the bro actually notices me. Why am I always the target? Because I'm the weakest of course. I envy Stephano. With his natural athleticism, strong wits, knowledge of just about every weapon, stamina, strength... Ah, getting off topic. Needless to say, the bro doesn't dare attack him. Usually just me. And guess who has to swoop in and save my sorry behind? Stephano.
I had just been in the library enjoying a classic novel when I heard him. The moans and grunts of the freakish beast echoed eerily down the corridor. I drew back in the corner, hoping he would ignore the fire crackling in the fireplace and just move along. Alas, he slammed down the door with his massive claws and came strait for me. I ducked and narrowly missed a blow to the skull, then before I know it I'm being chased like an animal. Where the hell is Stephano? I rounded another corner, meeting a door and shaking the knob like a madman. When the door didn't open, I kicked the doorframe in frustration. PING! "Ow!" I yelped, picking up the key that had struck me in the eye. I unlocked the door, turning and seeing that the bro had gained on me. A lot. I let out an involuntary shriek, dashing down the stairs at top speed.
This part of Brennenburg remained an unfamiliar territory to me, as I preferred to stay out of the darker and more terrifying wings. Some of the most unsavory characters lingered in the West wing of the castle. Skully, the pigs, Mayo, the bro, the barrels, some other brutes, and even Stephano (who I had not liked at first) usually hung around, picking fights and causing trouble. I preferred my quiet room in the East wing, neighboring some of the nicer residents of the castle. The halls kept getting darker. The moans and grunts and grumbles grew louder. My fatigue grew stronger. The pains grew sharper. I had no choice but to keep running.
"Stephano!" I called out, hoping he was nearby to come to my aid. Nothing. My only response was more agitated groans. "Stephano! HELP ME PLEASE!" I screamed, hoping he was merely just hiding behind the next corner, waiting for me to run past so he could jump out and scare the pants off of me. The next corner came, and I waited for Stephano to leap down from the rafters and support beams to scare the living holy hell out of me. Stephano didn't show, and I finally just collapsed.
The bro closed in, and I silently cursed my weak ankle for not being able to support me. I prayed silently, knowing that my life was finally over. Cut. Scene. Fin. Game over. The end. I glanced around the dark corridor, realizing that even if I had kept going, the ceiling had collapsed. The rafters, support beams, and everything above was now a heap on the stone floor. I was boxed in.
The bro's satisfied moans meant one of three things.
1. I'm going to get mauled.
2. I'm going to get eaten.
I cowered in the ruble, taking the first slash to my ribcage. I immediately felt the blood gush, staining the fabric of my green sweater vest. The second gash came down upon my shoulder, my white button down torn and now covered in blood. Pain racked my body, and I prayed that my fate was simply option number 1. The bro's claws came down on me again and again. My back, my legs, my chest my neck... all burning with pain.
"Leave him alone, asshole!" A voice shouted, drawing the beast's attention away from his assault on my body. I didn't dare look up. This voice wasn't Stephano's, but one very familiar. The bro groaned, slashing at the other person in this situation. I looked up, only seeing the silhouette of a tall, muscular body, ducking just before the bro could grab him. The man moved fluently, almost as if dancing. He kicked the bro in the stomach, somehow managing to knock him over.
Two strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against a warm torso. Suddenly, we were moving. The man looked up, and it was too dark for me to see the face of my rescuer. I should probably still be fearing for my life. He turned into a doorway, rushing towards a wardrobe and ducking in, shutting the door behind us.
"Mr. Chair, you alright?" The man said, his name on the tip of my tongue. C'mon... I know this man. I nodded, though I doubt he could see. "I'm okay." I breathed, shakily and feeble. He struck a match, a candle in his hand burning to life. I gasped. Two pink eyes bore into mine, an evil smirk plastered on his face. Piggeh. Alright, I guess it was fate number 3 after all.
"You're bleeding." He stated, crawling closer to me. I backed away. "I'll be fine." He crawled forward a bit more, forcing me to press myself into the corner. "Just let me help you."
"Please, Mr. Chair."
"But, Chaise! You're hurt. I don't like that." He purred, using my human name.
"Fine. No funny business though." I said, hoping he wasn't in the mood to molest me as usual.
He smirked, reaching into his backpack for something. He pulled out a bottle of laudanum, a rag, and some bandages. He pulled me into his lap, and I struggled to get out of his grip. "Hey, calm down. I promised. No funny business, remember?" He purred, pushing me back down. I relaxed, obeying him, though not at all trusting a single word that he said. Everyone knows that Piggeh is a terrible flirt, and I don't trust that he isn't going to try and ravish me. His eyes trained on mine, he uncorked the bottle in is hands and held it above my mouth.
"I can drink it by myself."
"Open." He repeated.
I huffed, irritated by his stubbornness. I opened my mouth and he made me drink the bitter fluid. I was beginning to feel really lightheaded due to the blood loss, and couldn't help but cling to him. He smirked, wrapping bandages around my wounds. He pulled off the green sweater vest and began unbuttoning my white shirt. "Piggeh!" I gasped. He chuckled. "I'm just gonna tend to the wounds on your chest." He explained, dabbing at the blood with his rag. I was unsettled by this, to say the least. I felt very uncomfortable in that moment.
"Oh, and Chaise..." He started, looking up from his work and into my eyes. "We're good enough friends for you to call me my real name, ya know." He bent down and planted a soft kiss on the bandages on my chest. My breathing hitched in my throat as he re-buttoned my shirt. Had he really just done that?
He sat up, releasing my from his hold. He pushed the door open slightly, checking for something. "He's gone." He mumbled, running his fingers through tangled pink hair. "Now as for payment..." He said, backing me up into the corner. I pressed up against the wall, now sure that I was going to get ravished. He scratched behind one of the fuzzy pink pig ears on the top of his head. "P-payment? What d-do you m-mean?" I stuttered, my breathing becoming more frantic. He nodded. "I think... you owe me..." He purred, tapping a finger on my chest.
I let out a half-hearted laugh, hoping he was just pulling my leg. He tilted his head. Oh crap... He's serious. "Ah, well. Why not some thalers?" I said, trying desperately to avoid it. He shook his head, eyes serious, clouded with something... different. Something foreign. Especially for him. I sighed, knowing this was useless. One kiss. That's all. Not bad, right? Right... I nodded, moving a bit closer to him.
He smirked, leaning in and brushing his lips against mine. His lips are soft. Warm. His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I gasped, and he seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. He explored my mouth with his tongue, mapping out every inch. It may have been the narcotic running through my system, or the fact that I hadn't kissed anyone in years, but I kissed him back. And I liked it.
He pulled away, smirking his devious smirk. "Well, well, well. What a treat," He purred, a blush coming over my face. He cupped my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Ya know, I've always had a little crush on you." My eyes widened. "Yeah. Look at that. Piggeh has had a crush on Mr. Chair for all these years." He purred, planting a feather soft kiss on my nose. He worked his way down, placing kisses on my cheeks and then on my neck. He sucked on the skin lightly, an accidental moan escaping my mouth. He chuckled, pulling away and locking pink back on green. "And the sickest thing is, you can't stand me. I freak you out. I make you uncomfortable. You don't feel the same."
I shook my head. "No, no, no..." I muttered. He tilted his head, eyes widened. "Actually... You're pretty wrong." I said, letting my head fall back and slam against the wooden wall of the wardrobe. He put his hand behind my head and brought my lips back to his. He licked my bottom lip, asking politely for entrance. I granted it to him, opening my mouth and letting his tongue explore it. We fought for dominance, and I lost easily. He brought me into his lap, kissing me passionately. I ran my hands through his hair, something unusual and exciting taking over. He pulled away, smirk replaced by a gentle smile.
"So, does this mean the feelings are returned?" He asked, resting my head in the crook of his neck. I felt myself blushing again, only able to simply nod.
"I love you, Chaise." He purred, quietly and lovingly.
"I love you too, Percy."