Unwritten Fate [BL]-Chapter 10: The Space Between Us

The house had long since surrendered to silence. A faint creak echoed through the wooden beams as the wind whispered through the cracks, stirring the cool night air. Inside, everything was still—except for two restless souls.

Billy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Shadows danced across the wooden planks above him, stretching and shifting with every flicker of the dim moonlight sneaking through the window. His hands rested behind his head, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the fabric of his tunic.

He shut his eyes.

Then opened them again.

No use. Sleep wasn't coming. His thoughts were like an unfinished puzzle, pieces scattered and missing. He could feel the weight of exhaustion in his bones, but his mind refused to quiet down.

With a soft sigh, he sat up, pushing the blanket off his legs. The wooden floor was cool against his bare feet as he moved toward the door, careful not to make a sound. He wasn't sure where he was going—he just needed air.

Billy stepped into the hallway, the faint scent of burning wood lingering from the earlier fire. Everything was bathed in darkness, except for the silver glow filtering through the windows. He moved toward the front door, his movements slow, deliberate.

Just as he reached for the handle—

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A door creaked open behind him.

Billy stilled, his ears straining against the quiet.

Footsteps. Light, careful. Someone else was awake.

He turned his head just as another figure emerged from the darkness.

Artur.

The dim glow of moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, his dark hair slightly tousled, as if he had been lying awake for hours. He hadn't bothered to grab a coat, his tunic hanging loosely over his frame, the laces at his collar undone. His bare arms crossed over his chest, fingers pressing lightly against his skin as if warding off the cold.

Billy raised an eyebrow. "Well, well. Didn't take you for a night wanderer."

Artur didn't flinch at the teasing tone. He merely exhaled through his nose, his voice a quiet rumble. "I couldn't sleep."

Billy smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Me neither."

For a moment, they just stood there, the only sound between them the soft rustling of leaves outside.

Then, without a word, Billy pushed open the door and stepped out onto the porch. The wood groaned softly beneath his weight. A crisp breeze greeted him, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant water. The sky stretched vast and endless above him, a deep canvas of dark blue, speckled with stars.

Behind him, he heard Artur hesitate. A barely-there pause.

Then—

The creak of another step as Artur joined him outside.

Billy plopped down onto the wooden steps, stretching his legs out in front of him. He let his body relax, his arms resting on the step behind him as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.

Artur remained standing for a moment, his gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the trees. Then, with a slow exhale, he lowered himself down beside Billy, resting his arms on his knees.

The night wrapped around them like a heavy blanket, thick with quiet and something unspoken.

Billy let out a breath. "I thought villages were supposed to be peaceful. Why does it feel like my head won't shut up?"

Artur's fingers traced the rough grain of the wooden step. His voice was quieter than before. "Because sometimes, silence is louder than noise."

Billy turned his head, studying him.

The way the wind tousled Artur's dark hair. The faint crease between his brows. The flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

Something about him felt... different tonight.

Softer.

Unsettled.

Billy smirked. "That was poetic. Didn't know you had that in you."

Artur huffed, shaking his head. "Shut up."

Billy chuckled, but the sound faded into something quieter, more thoughtful. He exhaled through his nose, watching the way the night breeze toyed with the trees in the distance.

A gentle silence stretched between them.

Then—

"Do you ever feel like you're waiting for something?" Artur's voice was barely above a whisper.

Billy's smirk faltered.

Artur's gaze remained on the horizon, his expression unreadable. The usual sharpness in his features had softened into something more distant, more hesitant.

Billy blinked. "You're asking the guy with no memories if he ever feels lost?"

Artur let out a quiet breath, his fingers tightening around his knee.

Billy leaned back on his palms, tilting his head. "Yeah... I do, I guess. Feels like I should be doing something, but I don't know what. Like there's this empty space, and I can't even remember what's supposed to fill it."

Artur's eyes flickered toward him.

Billy turned his head, meeting his gaze. "What about you?"

A muscle in Artur's jaw tightened. He was quiet for a long moment, as if debating whether or not to answer.

Then—

"I don't know."

Billy frowned, watching him closely.

There was something else behind those words. Something restrained. Something Artur wasn't saying.

Billy nudged him lightly with his shoulder. "You're thinking too much."

Artur let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "And you don't think enough."

Billy grinned. "That's what makes us a great team."

Artur scoffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Billy exhaled, tilting his head back again. "Whatever it is you're waiting for, Artur... maybe it's already here."

Artur inhaled sharply.

Billy hadn't meant for the words to hold any weight, but the moment they left his lips, something changed.

The space between them felt smaller.

The air felt heavier.

Billy turned his head slightly—only to find Artur already watching him.

His gaze was unreadable. Steady. Searching.

Billy's breath hitched.

The silence between them wasn't empty anymore. It was charged, thrumming with something Billy couldn't quite name.

The wind stirred the leaves. The distant water lapped against the shore.

Neither of them moved.

Billy swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Artur—"

Artur blinked, as if snapping out of something. He looked away quickly, running a hand through his hair. His fingers curled against the back of his neck, tension evident in every movement.

Billy exhaled, the strange tightness in his chest lingering.

Whatever had just passed between them...

It wasn't nothing.

But neither of them spoke about it.

Instead, Artur cleared his throat and pushed himself up from the steps. "We should go back inside."

Billy watched him for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeah... probably."

He stood as well, following Artur back into the house.

But even as he lay in bed later that night, staring once again at the ceiling, his heart still wasn't steady.

Because, for the first time—

It wasn't just the unknown that made him restless.

It was Artur.

The Morning After

Dawn crept over the horizon in muted shades of blue and gold, casting a soft glow over the village. The faint chirping of birds stirred the quiet air, blending with the occasional rustle of trees swaying under the breeze.

Inside the house, Billy lay on his side, staring at the faint cracks on the wooden wall beside his bed. Sleep had come in short, restless intervals, broken up by thoughts he couldn't quite make sense of.

Or rather, thoughts about one person in particular.

He exhaled, rolling onto his back, rubbing his face with both hands before letting them fall onto his chest. His heart still wasn't steady.

What was that last night?

The way Artur had looked at him. That moment of silence so thick it felt like something should've happened—something he wasn't ready to name.

Billy shook his head. Maybe I imagined it.

But deep down, he knew he hadn't.

A creak in the hallway pulled him from his thoughts.

Billy sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. He stretched lazily before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. As he opened the door, his gaze landed on Artur.

He was already awake, of course. Standing near the window in the main room, fixing the strap of his tunic. His hair was slightly tousled—whether from sleep or the wind sneaking through the open shutters, Billy wasn't sure.

Artur turned at the sound of Billy stepping out. Their eyes met.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Billy felt his heartbeat stutter.

Artur's fingers froze briefly on the strap before he cleared his throat and glanced away. "Morning."

Billy tilted his head. Huh. Artur wasn't usually one for stiff greetings.

"Morning," Billy responded, watching him closely.

Something felt...different. Not in a bad way. Just different.

Billy stepped forward, stretching his arms above his head. "So, what's the plan today? Please tell me it doesn't involve gutting fish."

Artur gave a small smirk, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No fish. Just something simple."

Billy arched a brow. "Oh? You sound suspiciously vague. Are we secretly going on a treasure hunt?"

Artur sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We need to check the orchard outside the village. My father usually does it, but he's busy today."

Billy groaned dramatically. "Ah, so back to work, huh?"

"You wanted to be useful," Artur said, crossing his arms.

Billy smirked. "That does sound like me."

Artur shook his head, but there was something softer in his gaze—something Billy had seen last night. Something he wasn't imagining.

The feeling in Billy's chest returned. That odd, weightless sensation.

But he ignored it. For now.

"Alright, lead the way, boss," Billy said, grinning.

Artur gave him one last unreadable glance before turning toward the door.

Billy followed.

And just like that, a new day began.

The sun had fully risen by the time Billy and Artur stepped beyond the village, the warmth seeping into the earth beneath their feet. The dirt path stretched ahead of them, winding past fields of swaying crops and patches of wildflowers. A crisp breeze carried the scent of fresh soil and ripened fruit, promising a pleasant morning.

Billy strolled with his hands behind his head, glancing sideways at Artur, who walked with the same steady pace he always did—focused, purposeful, as if even something as simple as checking an orchard required discipline.

"Do you always walk like you're heading into battle?" Billy teased, nudging Artur's arm with his elbow.

Artur barely reacted, but his fingers curled slightly at his side. "I walk how I walk."

Billy smirked. "So serious." He let out a dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose that's part of your charm."

Artur's step faltered for just a fraction of a second. It was subtle, so quick that anyone else might have missed it. But Billy didn't.

A slow grin tugged at his lips.

"You okay there, boss?"

Artur shot him a look, clearing his throat. "We're almost there."

Billy chuckled but let it go. For now.

As they approached the orchard, the landscape shifted. The air grew heavier with the scent of citrus and apples, mingling with the faintest trace of damp wood. The trees stood tall, their branches heavy with fruit. Some of the apples had already fallen, scattered in the grass, glistening under the sunlight.

Artur stepped ahead, scanning the orchard with quiet concentration. Billy, on the other hand, took a deep breath, stretching his arms.

"Wow. This place is nice. You know, if I had to be stuck somewhere without my memories, I could've done a lot worse."

Artur glanced at him briefly before kneeling to inspect a fallen apple. He turned it over in his palm, frowning at a small bruise. "We need to check for any damage. Pests, rot... anything that could spread."

Billy hummed, crouching beside him. He picked up an apple, rolling it between his hands.

"You know," he said, inspecting the fruit like it held the secrets of the universe, "I feel like I've done this before. Not the whole 'mysterious orchard caretaker' thing, but... I don't know. Something about holding an apple like this feels familiar."

Artur looked at him, really looked at him. There was something thoughtful in his expression, like he wanted to say something but held it back.

Billy grinned. "Maybe I was a farmer in my past life."

"Or just in your real life," Artur murmured, standing up.

Billy blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. He tilted his head, watching Artur move toward another tree, running his hand along the bark.

Before Billy could respond, a voice called out from the distance.

"You two look busy!"

Billy turned to see a man approaching. He was tall, slightly older than Artur, with a relaxed posture and a knowing smirk. His sun-kissed skin and loose tunic suggested he was no stranger to labor, yet there was an ease to his movements—like someone who didn't take life too seriously.

"Ronan," Artur greeted with a nod.

Billy arched a brow. Another new face.

"You should've told me you'd be handling the orchard today," Ronan said, hands on his hips. His gaze flickered to Billy. "And you must be the new guy. The one everyone's whispering about."

Billy gave a mock salute. "Billy. Or at least, that's the name I've been gifted."

Ronan chuckled. "A man without a past. Sounds like something out of a story." His eyes twinkled with curiosity. "So, how's village life treating you?"

Billy smirked. "So far, I haven't been chased out with pitchforks, so I'd say it's going well."

Ronan laughed, clearly amused. "Fair enough." He turned back to Artur. "Need any extra hands?"

Artur hesitated, glancing at Billy. There was something unreadable in his expression before he shook his head. "We can handle it."

Ronan gave a small shrug. "Suit yourself. But if you need anything, just yell."

With that, he strolled off, whistling a tune as he disappeared beyond the trees.

Billy watched him go, then turned to Artur with a smirk. "He seems fun."

Artur rolled his eyes. "He's annoying."

Billy chuckled. "Oh, I definitely like him, then."

Artur exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Let's just get back to work."

Billy grinned but followed.

And yet, as they moved through the orchard, inspecting trees and gathering fallen fruit, Billy couldn't shake the feeling that Artur had been bothered by Ronan's arrival.

Not in the way he was annoyed by Billy's teasing.

No, this was something else.

And Billy wasn't about to let it go unnoticed.

The orchard work continued in easy silence, the sound of rustling leaves and distant village chatter filling the space between them. Artur worked with his usual precision—checking branches, feeling the firmness of the apples, tossing aside the ones too bruised to be salvaged. Billy, on the other hand, took his time, watching more than he worked.

Not that he wasn't helping—he was—but something about Artur's reactions earlier still clung to his mind. The way he tensed when Ronan arrived. The way he looked at Billy before declining extra hands. The way his jaw had tightened ever so slightly when Billy made a comment about Ronan being fun.

Interesting.

Billy wiped his hands on his tunic, picking up a particularly round apple. "So," he started, tossing it between his hands, "what's Ronan's deal?"

Artur didn't look up. "What do you mean?"

Billy smirked. "Oh, you know exactly what I mean."

Artur sighed. "He works in the village. Helps out wherever he's needed. He's—" A pause. "He's fine."

Billy let out a low whistle. "Wow. Such a glowing review."

Artur shot him a glare before moving to another tree.

Billy grinned. "Alright, fine. I'll stop prying. For now." He took a bite out of the apple, the crunch filling the silence. He chewed thoughtfully before speaking again. "You know, you're kind of a mystery yourself, Artur."

Artur stilled for just a moment before continuing his work. "Not much of a mystery," he muttered.

Billy leaned against a tree, watching him. "Really? Because you keep looking at me like you've got something to say but won't say it."

Artur's hands tightened around the branch he was inspecting. "You talk too much."

Billy smirked, stepping closer. "And you don't talk enough."

Artur turned to face him, and for a split second, Billy saw something flicker in his gaze—something unguarded, something that looked suspiciously like hesitation.

Then Artur exhaled, shaking his head. "We're wasting time."

Billy chuckled, pushing off the tree. "Right, right. Back to being productive."

They worked in silence again, but this time, it wasn't the same as before.

There was a shift in the air. Something lingering.

Something unspoken.

---

By midday, they had gathered enough fruit to fill the woven baskets Artur had brought. The sun was high, beating down through the branches, and Billy wiped his brow with his sleeve.

"I vote for a break," he announced, plopping down against a tree. "I think I've earned it."

Artur glanced at him before sighing and sitting down as well, though he kept his back straight, arms resting over his knees. Billy, on the other hand, sprawled out, hands behind his head.

They sat there for a while, the breeze rustling through the orchard, the scent of apples thick in the air.

Then Billy spoke, softer this time. "You know, I like it here."

Artur turned his head slightly. "The orchard?"

Billy exhaled. "The village. The people. Even the work, as weird as that sounds." He tilted his head to look at Artur. "I think I like being here."

Artur's fingers twitched where they rested on his knee. He didn't respond right away, but Billy could tell he was thinking.

Eventually, Artur said, "Then maybe you don't need to remember who you were."

Billy blinked. He hadn't expected that.

"Maybe," Artur continued, still not looking at him, "who you were before doesn't matter as much as who you are now."

Billy swallowed, something warm curling in his chest. He sat up a little, studying Artur's profile.

For someone so closed-off, Artur had a way of saying things that hit harder than he probably realized.

Billy smiled, small but genuine. "That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Artur rolled his eyes, standing up. "Let's go."

Billy laughed, pushing himself up as well. "Admit it, you'd be bored without me."

Artur turned away, but Billy swore he saw the ghost of a smile before he did.

And that was enough.

For now.

The rest of the day passed in a quiet rhythm, filled with the scent of ripened fruit and the hum of village life. By the time they returned home, baskets full, the sky had softened into hues of deep orange and purple, marking the sun's slow descent.

Billy stretched his arms above his head, groaning. "Alright, I admit it. That was more work than I expected."

Artur raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were getting used to village life."

Billy smirked. "Oh, I am. I just like to complain sometimes."

Artur shook his head, lifting the baskets effortlessly onto his shoulders. Billy, not to be outdone, grabbed his share and followed him into the house.

Dand was already inside, setting up the evening meal. The rich aroma of stew filled the air, and Billy's stomach growled in response.

"You two took your time," Dand remarked, glancing at them as he stirred the pot. "Everything go well?"

Billy shrugged. "Well, Artur didn't throw an apple at my head, so I'd call that a success."

Dand chuckled, shaking his head. "You boys clean up. Food will be ready soon."

Billy and Artur exchanged glances before heading toward the water basin near the back of the house. Artur splashed his face with cool water first, running wet fingers through his hair.

Billy, on the other hand, leaned against the doorway, watching. "You know," he started, "for someone who's always working, you look pretty relaxed right now."

Artur paused, glancing at him. "And?"

Billy grinned. "I think you're starting to enjoy my company."

Artur huffed, drying his face with a cloth. "You assume too much."

Billy stepped closer, dipping his own hands into the basin. "Do I?"

For a split second, their hands brushed again—just like at the orchard.

A flicker of something passed between them, brief but undeniable.

Artur pulled back first, tossing the cloth at Billy's face. "Hurry up before Dand yells at us."

Billy laughed, catching the cloth. But even as Artur walked away, Billy caught the way his ears had turned just the faintest shade of pink.

Interesting.

The house had long since settled into silence, the only sounds being the occasional creak of wood and the distant hum of insects outside. Billy lay in bed, eyes half-lidded as he listened to the steady rhythm of the night.

But instead of sleep taking him, a quiet restlessness kept him awake. His thoughts drifted—not just to the empty spaces where his memories should be but to something else.

Or rather, someone else.

A sigh left him as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. Maybe walking around a bit would help clear his head.

Careful not to wake anyone, he padded out of his room, stepping lightly over the wooden floorboards. He hesitated for a moment before deciding against going outside. Instead, he found himself drawn toward the storage area near the back of the house.

The room was dimly lit by the moonlight seeping through the cracks in the wooden walls. Stacks of baskets, folded cloth, and tools lined the small space, everything arranged in quiet order.

Billy ran his fingers along one of the wooden crates absentmindedly. Something about the place felt grounding.

As he crouched to inspect one of the baskets, a soft rustling caught his attention.

He turned—and nearly startled when he saw Artur standing at the doorway, arms crossed.

"You have a habit of sneaking around at night?" Artur's voice was quiet, his usual sharpness dulled by the late hour.

Billy smirked, leaning back against one of the crates. "Couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?"

Artur exhaled, stepping inside. "Needed to check something."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "In the storage room? At this hour?"

Artur ignored the remark, stepping past him to examine one of the hanging fishing nets. Billy watched as he absently ran a hand over the knotted ropes, fingers smoothing over the worn fibers.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Billy, unable to resist, said, "You always this broody at night, or am I just special?"

Artur shot him a flat look but didn't respond. Instead, he let out a breath and leaned against the wall.

Billy studied him in the faint moonlight, the shadows softening the usually sharp edges of his face. He looked... different like this. Less guarded.

"Why did you decide to stay?" Artur asked suddenly, his voice quieter now.

Billy blinked. "Huh?"

"You had a choice," Artur said, glancing at him. "You could've left. Gone to another village, another place. But you didn't."

Billy tilted his head, considering. "Guess I like it here," he admitted, then shrugged. "Or maybe I just don't want to wander around without a clue about who I am."

Artur hummed, his gaze unreadable.

Billy smirked, nudging his shoulder lightly. "You worried about me or something?"

Artur scoffed, pushing off the wall. "Hardly."

But Billy caught the way Artur's eyes lingered on him for just a second too long before he turned to leave.

Billy stayed behind, arms crossed as he watched him go.

A small grin tugged at his lips.

Interesting.