'Well, then Jason, what do you think of the painting?' Cyan asked.
Oh, Falcon thought, he's asking my opinion on his work. How would an awed fan react?
'It's...' He sighed...like he was struggling to find the right words to describe the magnificent sunset. 'It's beautiful.' He decided on a single adjective, hoping it would be enough. 'It's better than my expectations. It's your best work yet.' He shook his head slightly, having trouble finding the words to do justice to the picture.
Cyan regarded his opinion silently, nodding and listening as Falcon glanced back and forth between him and the frame, unable to decide what was more beautiful. Both were art.
'Might I ask, what are you calling this one? I couldn't see the name.' He said when the silence stretched on and on.
Cyan started. He glanced at him like he had just remembered he was there and smiled, slightly amused. 'Ah, that's a surprise.'
Falcon let out a groan of complaint, half of him really wanted to know the name of the painting while the other half was busy keeping up with the façade he was wrapping around himself. 'That's not fair.'
Cyan let out a deep, rumbling laugh made husky from just waking up. 'You will see at the exhibition,' he chortled.
Falcon frowned, but his heart rose up and started singing a merry tune. Exactly how he had hoped, Cyan Yarrow was letting him go, believing in the crap he had made up, in which even a third grader wouldn't fall into, though he hadn't realized he had let out the hint.
'Can I ask you something, Cyan?' He asked in a whisper, keeping the conversation going on, though he was quite sure nobody was coming to get him now. 'Why are you giving up making art?'
Cyan's face fell, all carelessness and amusement gone, the features turned into a stony mask as he processed the sudden question Falcon had thrown at him. He looked like he was debating whether to answer or not, though the hardness in his eyes hinted Falcon had crossed a line with privacy.
'I...I am sorry,' he said hurriedly. 'I didn't mean to intrude. You don't have to answer this question.'
'No, it's okay.' Cyan whispered, shaking his head a bit as some of his smile found its way back onto his face. 'Don't worry.'
'I am sorry.' Falcon repeated, bending into a low bow, his hands folded on his stomach. 'Please punish me however way you deem suitable.'
He remained in the low bow, willing the man to say something but there was silence on the other sight, though he was still standing there, looking at him, he knew, he could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of his jacket.
He rose up slowly, confusion on his features as he gazed into his eyes, embarrassed and asked. 'Why aren't you saying anything?'
'I have so many questions,' Cyan responded slowly, measuring each word before speaking, 'but I am not going to like their answers...I know...so I believe everything you say.'
Falcon's stomach dropped. He had no idea what he meant, but he was also really sure of it. The contradictory statement made his head swim. This man was believing his story because he thought he wouldn't like the answers if Falcon told the truth?
'Ah, well, okay,' he swiveled a few words around his mouth before settling down on those three. 'I am sorry for disturbing you. But before I go, could you please give me your autograph, and, well, I won't lie and say I wasn't hoping to meet you.' He let out a small giggle, his heart leaping into his chest.
Get the package, get out, he thought giddily as he awaited the man's response.
Cyan shook his head. 'Go? No, you are not going anywhere,' he said.
Falcon's heart sank. There it was. He had celebrated too early.
Why had Cyan given him the hope that he could escape, then crush the happy sapling blooming in his heart like that? He felt a bout of anger, but an instinct told him to keep up the drama. Cyan was proving to be an easy target by every minute.
'Then please punish me for my intrusion, Cyan. But, after you give me your autograph,' he pleaded, immediately feeling disgusted with himself.
All of his nerves were standing on edge, body taut as a string, expecting Cyan to attack him at any moment now. What was he waiting for?
'Relax,' Cyan said. 'I am not going to eat you.'
His head jerked up as he realized Cyan was deeply observing him. Falcon knew Cyan was two years older than him, but his deep eyes spoke wisdom and honesty, not to mention the very sense of responsibility his aura set off. I guess that's what happens when you have the weight of an empire resting on your shoulders. 'What, why?' he stammered.
'How old are you, Jason?' Cyan asked, his eyes quizzical.
Falcon breathed inwardly at the sudden inquiry. Was Cyan perhaps getting as much information out of him as he could before turning him in?
'Err….I will turn eighteen next month,' he lied, hoping Cyan would take him as a young, foolish boy.
'An eighteen-year-old boy managing to get past my guards, the lock, and the cameras? I think not.' Cyan shook his head. 'But you do look really young. How did you do it?'
Falcon fell silent. Of course, he hadn't believed him, but why was he acting like he had never seen a more truthful person before? He realized Cyan was waiting for him to respond to his absurd question as if he would actually tell him the way he came in.
Cyan's face turned grave when he saw Falcon standing still, not saying a word, his silence a defiant no to his query.
'Come on,' Cyan said, turning around, and motioning for him to follow him.
He's turning me in, Falcon realized, he's giving me over to the authorities.
Before he knew it, Falcon grabbed Cyan's arm with a jerk, the action pulling him backward and he tripped, his back hitting Falcon in the chest. Cyan gasped loudly, but he stayed calm, not a sign of struggle in his body whilst Falcon gripped his hand.
'Release me, Jason,' Cyan said.
'No, just punish me. Don't hand me over,' he said.
'I wasn't going to,' Cyan said in confusion. 'Please don't attack me again.'
Falcon released him slowly, his hands falling to his sides. He should have known Cyan was not threatening his freedom, his gait hadn't been defensive and his words were friendly.
'I am so sorry,' Falcon bowed again. 'I didn't know, it was a reflex.'
Cyan nodded like he understood, falling silent again as he surveyed him quietly. 'You are an orphan aren't you?' he asked quietly, almost lamenting.
His question took him by surprise. But then again, he was slowly learning to expect nothing from this man, as the minutes progressed. Falcon nodded slowly, if he played the victim here successfully, there was a slight chance Cyan might even let him go. The few minutes he had spent in his company had shown he was a soft-hearted man who spent a lot of time on making decisions.
He scuffed the floor with his foot, staring determinedly straight at the carpet. He hoped it was making him look vulnerable and lost. Not for the first time, he thanked his leather jacket, engulfing him so that he looked much smaller than he actually was.
'Someone sent you, didn't they?' Cyan asked.
Falcon couldn't believe his ears. It was like a goldmine of luck, Cyan providing him with questions that he could respond to in monosyllables. He let Cyan lead him onto the victim card and muttered a slow yes.
'Oh in whose hands did you fall in?' Cyan mourned quietly.
Not every orphan falls into the wrong hands, you idiot. Some people make their own choices. Falcon hid an ugly grin and decided to play along. He shook his head slowly like he couldn't decide or was too afraid to tell.
'Tell me, Jason, would you like to work for me?'
Falcon's head jerked up so fast he cricked his neck. 'Wha...what?' he stammered. 'What do you mean?' He knew exactly what he meant, and yet, his ears refused to believe the golden opportunity that was kissing his feet. Working for him meant staying in this house where he could get his hands on the package at any time he wanted with access to the safe if he was smart. This was too good to be true.
'You look really promising, and well, I won't lie, but, I don't want you to go back to those people again.'
Gosh, this man was unbelievable. Did he really think someone was forcing him to work for them, or maybe Falcon was too good at acting?
'I...I don't know…..you are not handing me over?' he spoke slowly, dazed with disbelief, staring into Cyan's eyes, hoping he looked uncertain.
'No,' Cyan chuckled. 'And yes, you are not eighteen but still young, but have a really strong body. You have been trained well.'
Falcon shook his head like he didn't dare to believe, opening and closing his mouth several times before shutting it and deciding to keep it sealed. His eyes wide, he just looked at Cyan until the man spoke again.
'It's just a proposal. You don't have to accept,' Cyan said gently.
'What if I don't accept?' Falcon said.
'I will let you go.' And just like that, Cyan said the words, shrugging slightly.
'You will…let me go? Why?' he whispered.
'My house, my rules,' Cyan said. 'Now please don't attack me again.' He said, as he turned around, making his way to the large dressing room.
'No, of course, not.' Falcon rubbed his neck like he was embarrassed while his heart sang a gleeful melody. This foolish man was letting him stay. This made his work even easier.
Cyan smiled slightly, as he disappeared from sight through the door, closing it gently. Falcon stood there quietly, waiting with bated breath in the dark. Cyan had given him time to decide, but Falcon's decision was already made. It was a few minutes before he reappeared, fully clothed dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
'Have you made up your mind?' he asked.
'Yes.' Falcon whispered. 'I want to stay.'
Cyan smiled contentedly, and in his smile, Falcon saw the reason behind his actions. Cyan Yarrow was trying to save him, giving the orphan a job who had broken into his house in the dead of the night to see a painting.
Was he stupid, or was he stupid? Falcon chuckled to himself, careful none of his emotions would show on his face. It wasn't a difficult feat, he had learned to maintain a poker face a long time ago, so much that he knew he could easily pass as a mannequin.