“It’s what I’ve been told but then again, I wouldn’t know, I didn’t have the luxury of being here when they were built,” Saw says with a dark chuckle and this reminder of how different, how incompatible they should be, should’ve kept his feelings at bay but he can’t hide the way he sucks in air as Chad pulls closer and damn his body. His heart has no right to get so giddy at just the simple touch of a hand against his chest and then Chad has the audacity to lean forward, to tease Saw like that. His expression morphs into one of muted surprise, face vulnerably open for only a split second before Saw realizes he’s made himself look like a damned fool. No matter, it’s not hard to pull back down the mask of seductive interest; the seduced turning into the seducer. “A look at the famed Charming’s bedroom? What an honor.”
A hand slips back ever so casually to grasp his pocket knife. The wonderful acoustics be damned, there has to be at least two sets of walls between them and wherever the servants are currently, it’s surely well muted. If Chad needed Alexa to summon them then surely, a few screams would go unnoticed. There’s a slight click as the blade swishes out and into place, a noise Saw covers with the hard drag of his shoes against marble as he inches even closer to Chad. Here, here is where the climb of his hand continues, going oh so inappropriately high. “You won’t tell me about your parties but you’ll invite me to your room.” An amused smile quirks his lips up. “One would think a prince like you would have more modesty but then again, Auradon’s is known for its gaudiness. I’m not surprised that extends even to sex although, how exactly it transfers over, I’m interested to find out, should the occasion arise.” His words are perfectly normal for their situation. His posture is perfectly normal for their situation. Everything about him is perfectly normal for their situation.
Except there’s a light chill clinging to Saw’s hands, seeping through the fabric of Chad’s pants and letting slip that he isn’t as calm as he appears. His fingers are digging into the handle of his knife and this is it, this is his chance to get revenge for all those years ago when Chad decided that Saw, so new and fresh to Auradon, deserved to get a taste of just how cruelly prankful the nobility could be. One might argue that murder might be a little far for what happened to him but being humiliated like how Saw was in front of his peers still burns in the back of his mind. Slowly, ever so slowly, he brings the knife around. Just as it’s about to reach Chad’s sight, Nathan leans in close to his face, takes up all of Chad’s view so that their lips are only inches apart. “Those tv screens don’t do you justice, you know?” He whispers, letting his voice take on an air of breathlessness as he jerks the knife forward-
And oh no, he can’t do this. Oh no, oh god, the knife stops, tip only centimeters away from Chad’s stomach and oh god, oh no, why can’t he do this? He’s been planning this for weeks. He mentally was ready for this so why can’t he-? Panic slips into his features, he freezes up and his arm refuses to move the knife forward or back. Why? Why this now? Why can’t he just stab Chad? He hates this man to the very core so why can’t he? What the hell is stopping him? The hand on Chad’s leg is ice cold.
“I wasn’t either - I just had a strict royal curriculum when I was young, how I don’t miss those days,” he joked, a mirthless laugh rolling off his tongue. There’s more behind the mask of empty amusement, a gentle tingle of nervous attraction hidden behind a confident smile and cocky attitude. If Chad attempts to silently drown the butterflies in a mixture of alcohol and forced behaviours, whose business is that anyways? “I suppose you would be of that opinion but then the private parties are far more intimate than most sexual encounters anyhow,” he rebutted, all while happily leaning into Saw as they changed positions.
“Nothing wrong with some fun is there?” And he stops, hand resting on Nathan’s cheek as it registers just how cold everything has gotten - the hand on his thigh is like ice and suddenly he’s jerking away after his eyes flicker down to see a blade. High heavens, this is a complete and utter disaster isn’t it? “How dare you? Do your words really have so little meaning to you - do you have no honor?” And that’s a bit hypocritical coming from him - he’s a well-known, well-documented manipulator and liar, but he isn’t sure what else to say. And so for a moment he doesn’t, merely shoving the hand from his leg before standing up and walking to the other side of the room where he slams down his drink and spins to look at Saw once again, this time with disappointment etched into his features.
“I know what you’re trying to do, you know,” he begins what is going to be a monologue that he will refuse to allow the other to interrupt because this moment needs to be about him or he may just combust. “You want so badly to be involved in my story, in my happily ever after that you’re willing to be the villain - and to do so, quite pathetically at that. A knife? Your plan was a knife, where is the drama in that? No, I won’t settle for that. I’m a Prince, Prince Chad Charming - my family goes back hundreds of years with dozens of stories of vexing princes and rescues with heroes and villains. And they’re all perfect so I won’t settle for less - if you’re going to be my villain, which you may as well be, then you’re going to have to do better,” and it comes across as a lecture with his gesturing towards the family crest that hangs above the mantle.
“So, next time that you try to kill me - I expect you to have a dramatic entrance, a speech prepared and a better plan that a single knife. Where’s the magic, the showmanship? For fucksake, you have magic - dream something up. I deserve a better death than stabbing,” he complained, still pacing the room before turning to face the other. “Do you understand what I’m saying or are you not even listening?”
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