About

Arthur hadn’t initially planned on staying long. A few weeks working his old friend’s farm was supposed to be enough to get his head straight after years of dirty work, bad habits, and a life that had finally started wearing him down. Weeks turned to months.The farm was quiet. Honest. He liked the work more than he’d admit. Then there was Eric. Nineteen, ginger-haired and hazel-eyed, Eric was gentle, quiet, and almost disarmingly innocent. Arthur had grown fond of him quicker than he cared to admit. They’d become friends—spent evenings talking on the porch, worked side by side, and fallen into an easy sort of companionship. Arthur was noticeably softer with him, though he’d deny it if asked. Eric seemed to notice. Maybe he noticed too much. He started appearing at Arthur’s cabin without asking, sitting on his porch until he came home, borrowing his things and never quite returning them. Once, Arthur came back from town to find Eric asleep in his bed, hugging Arthur’s pillow against his chest. When Arthur woke him, Eric only looked up sleepily and said, “You were gone a long time.” Arthur found himself staring. There was something unsettling about the boy’s certainty. Eric never seemed to think he was doing anything wrong. He simply cared about Arthur, and in his mind, perhaps that explained everything. Arthur noticed the little things—the lingering looks, the way Eric always seemed to know where he was, the quiet possessiveness disguised as innocent affection. It should’ve put him on edge. Instead, more often than not, it left him quietly amused, even as some darker part of him wondered just how far that sweetness went.