A/N: Chase Emberton is a character that ChromeHearts came up with for me. Thank you, my sweet! 3 I hope I got him right!
_
Sweet Amoris stands tall, strong, and ready to be filled with two-hundred some students, all ready for their first year at school. First years walk up to the school, trying their hardest to not stick out, in fear of being pegged as 'uncool' by their upperclassmen. One student stands in the courtyard of the school, leaning against a large oak tree, observing everyone mill about. Chase Emberton is tall, about six foot even, with coffee colored hair in a tousled style, yet every curl is perfectly placed; his eyes are almond-shaped and the blue of clear, tropical waters. His skin is the color of cream, unblemished and smooth, witha straight nose and high cheekbones. The only thing that ruins the perfection of his face is a faded scar that reaches from the right corner of his full lips to his earlobe; a scar that Chase wishes he never had, even though it is not easily noticeable. A well-built, lean body is under his clothing, his elegant, long-fingered hands gripping his limber, toned biceps; his arms crossed ove rhis chest. His clothing is smart and classy, yet urban; shoes a brown leather, his skinny jeans a normal denim-wash. A plain grey tee shirt sits underneath a navy blue vest, a steel grey blazer overtop it all; a chestnut scarf witha white pattern on it draped loosely around his neck, the ends hanging down his front. As he turns to leave, a hand grabs hold of his shoulder.
"Excuse me, please don't step on my notebook." Chase shifts his tropical gaze an inch or so to look down into the mismatched eyes of another boy. He obviously has Heterochromia iridium; his left eye is firest green while the other is soft gold; his hair is silver, with the front left side grown out longer and the tips dyed black, and his clothing seems to have jumped from the Victorian era. The mysterious boy stoops down and scoops up a leatherbound notebook that was lying at the base of the Great Oak, then smiles slightly, tucking his hair behind his ear. He holds out his hand politely, and his smile grows a fraction, "My name is Lysander. Is this your first year here? I haven't seen you before." Chase shakes the boy's hand, nodding his head.
"Yeah, I just enrolled yesterday." Lysander smiles at him until a red-head with rocker clothing calls out his name, waving him over, then waves at Chase casually. Lysander walks over to his friend and Chase watches the two enter the school together, and he checks his golden Rolex watch, walking towards the school himself, shifting his dark brown leather messenger bag to rest upon his hip as he walks. Drawing out his timetable, Chase sighs as he notices that he has Phys Ed first block-and no gym strip. Following a few students as they grab their strip and head towards the gymnasium, Chase adjusts his messenger bag uncomfortably. Once in the gymnasium, he walks up to the teacher and explains that he has no strip, the teacher telling him to leave and come back the next day. He leaves the gym and finds himself wandering back to the outer courtyard, only to spot the boy from before, Lysander, sitting under the grand oak and writing in his notebook. Chase walks over to him, shifting his messenger bag once again.
"May I sit with you?" Lysander looks up and blinks a few times, then smiles warmly.
"Sure, sit." Chase sits beside the other boy, their shoulders brushing, and Chase not caring to move away. He watches Lysander as he writes, and the other boy stiffens, looking at him with those mismatcehd eyes, "Why are you reading over my shoulder?" He questions, a bit stiffly. Blinking, Chase shrugs his shoulders casually.
"I'm not reading what you're writing, I'm watching you write." A light blush dusts Lysander's cheeks as he looks down shyly. The two sit in silence for a long time, Lysander writing and Chase watching, until the bell for next class rings. They say their goodbyes and go to their seperate calsses, Chase not paying much attention to anything for the rest of the day. When the bell to end the day rings, Chase makes his way out to the courtyard to be bitterly disappointed when Lysander is not there; he sighs and fixes his bag, then makes his way home to the townhouse his mother and him live in together. HIs walk is a peaceful one, which is a nice change from their old town, which is a tourist town; a lot of people, at all times, and Chase had hated it. He takes out his keys and opens the front door, walking in and shutting it, to hear loud reggaeton music streaming through the house. He spots his mother dancing around the house, her chocolate hair tied up in a messy ponytail, unpacking; his colorful little sun conure flies towards him, squawking, landing on his shoulder. Chase slips off his shoes and drops his bag onto the floor, and strokes his bird's little head, the bird's beak playfully nibbling at his fingers.
"I'm home, mom." His mother turns her hazel gaze to him and she smiles a bright, dimpled smile as he picks up an apple and dusts it off with his sleeve, taking a bite out of it. His mother skips over to him and taps him lightly on the behind with her duster.
"How was your first day at school, Charles?" Chase frowns at his mother, and she rolls her eyes with a happy laugh, "Sorry, Chasey-baby, I just miss when I could call you by your real name!" Chase can't help but smile as his mother pouts, and bites off a tiny piece of his apple, feeding it to his conure, which squawks happily at the treat.
"School was alright. I think I made a friend today..." His mother smiles happily and begind chatting away to him, and he continues to eat his apple, feeding bits every now and again to his bird. His night goes on simple enough, sharing a dinner with his mother on a blanket on the living room floor, a glass of wine after, and he readies himself for bed after putting his bird in his cage. Chas eis wearing his flannel pyjama bottoms, his chest bear, and he traces a finger over the scar on his cheek, frowning, as he looks at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He had always hated the scar, the way it made him seem...wrong. Like something was off, but it was so faded that not many realised that it was a scar that made them think there was something that messed up his face. Even when he smiles, the scar twisted the corner of his lip up into a half-snarl. He shuts the lights and exits his bathroom, crawling onto his bed, and blows a kiss to his bird, which clicks it's tongue on the roof of it's mouth in answer; Chase falls asleep to the thought of a boy with mismatched eyes and a curious clothing sense...he surely hopes that he will see him again, and soon.
A/N: Well, here's chapter one! I hope you all enjoy! 3
-W