Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
What mattered was that it was a story of a man whose body got crushed, and he found a way to cure himself at a time when most people didn’t live into their sixties. And if there was any kind of truth to it, even if it was simply based on science people haven’t discovered yet, Beast wanted to find it. He needed to find it.
More so with each day he saw his almost sixty-year-old father live a life of drugs, alcohol, and numerous sexual partners yet have barely any wrinkles.
Chapter 11 - Laurent
Laurent lay curled up in the soft comforter that was as light as if it had cotton clouds inside yet kept warmth so well he didn’t want to leave from under it despite having been awake for two hours already.
The night before, he’d rummaged through Beast’s bookshelves looking for anything that could help him understand the world around him better. Getting to grips with the way people used language, and what connotations words had was crucial if he was to blend in. Even the books themselves, though recognizable for what they were, were different to the ones in his time. Much lighter, made of bright, thin paper and enveloped by cardboard covers that had all kinds of paintings on them.
He also desperately needed a distraction and settled for a book telling the story of a vicious young woman feigning her death to control her husband. He couldn’t turn the pages fast enough, and even though many details and words escaped his understanding, he was learning their gist out of context.
But once he turned off the light and lay in his bed with his heart still pounding in his chest, as he recounted the events of the book in his mind, still amazed by how easy it was to read with the new glasses, real life came creeping back to grab him by the throat. The disastrous kiss that followed the most glorious day wouldn’t let him sleep.
Laurent should have known Beast would be no better than Fane. He’d shackled his foot and turned into a dragon as soon as Laurent hesitated about accepting Beast’s advances. It was for the best. He was drowning in this new world already and didn’t need to feel affection for Beast on top of that. No matter how rapidly his heart fluttered when Beast’s scarred fingers curled around his or how sturdy his massive arm felt when Beast put it over Laurent’s shoulder on the slide. These were all ridiculous trifles to ponder.
Wasn’t this exactly the mistake he’d made before? A powerful man showered him with attention and gifts, and already Laurent’s heart sparked with excitement, even though it had left him covered in blood last time. He would not be a target again and entangle himself with a man who could snap him like a twig. If Beast reacted with fury when his kiss hasn’t been reciprocated, what would he have done if Laurent kissed but wasn’t willing to follow through any further? Laurent still remembered how Fane had mocked his nervousness, how he’d called Laurent a flower to pluck.
Laurent flinched when heavy footsteps resonated somewhere behind the door, and he pulled up the comforter, resting the open book on his chest. The man moved outside of Laurent’s room, and when tension reached its limit and made his stomach clench, there was a knock.
Laurent squinted at the door. Hadn’t he been told to ‘fuck off’ yesterday? He could hardly believe the amount of vile words spilling out of Beast’s mouth every time something bothered him, but it seemed that they were more commonly used than in the past. And yet they hurt just as much when hurled at him.
But when the man spoke from behind the door, it was not Beast’s voice but King’s. “Laurent, are you asleep?”
He put the book away and slid out of bed. Was it appropriate to have King visit when Laurent was in his night clothes? It likely was if King chose to visit him here. “Please, come in,” he said, uselessly straightening out his dark green plaid pajama pants.
The door opened, and King’s handsome face emerged from behind it. “Why wouldn’t you answer at first? Is my son treating you badly?”
Laurent licked his lips, unsure what to say at first. “We might have had a bit of an argument yesterday. He claimed not to want to hear from me, so I chose not to answer the knocking. I meant no disrespect by it, Mr. King.”
King’s mouth stretched into a smile, and Laurent had to wonder at how healthy his teeth were in comparison to men his age where Laurent has come from. They were so white, and straight, with not even a single one missing! “Just ignore him. He’s a sulking troll. Now, come out. I brought you some breakfast from downstairs,” he said, opening the door wider.