Chapter 5: Got Me Going Again
You Make Me Sick, P!nk
Previous | Chapter Listing | Next
This didn’t have what he was looking for, either. Ezio released a sigh, tossing the book he’d been reading onto the table. So far, he’d been through about half the books about different languages that he could find in headquarters, and none of them seemed to have the information he was looking for. None of them had writing anything like the mysterious leather-bound book that insisted on staying with him. The only consolation was that he’d not had any trouble from it.
The idea of asking Simeon for help did cross his mind. Aside from himself, Simeon knew the books very well, too. There might be something that Ezio was missing, and having a second set of eyes, and a second brain, was helpful at times like these. Simeon might ask questions, though. He did that sometimes, and Ezio wasn’t sure if he was ready to be answering those questions. He barely had answers to it himself. On the other hand, if he never started asking questions himself, he’d never get answers, and if he never got answers, then he’d never figure out what it was the book thought it wanted. He’d debate the semantics of whether or not this book was capable of thinking some other time. In the meanwhile, he had a mystery to solve, and he had no clues to work from.
The idea of telling Morgyn about this had crossed his mind more than once. He and Morgyn were a pair for a reason, of course. They thought similarly, and yet differently, and having Morgyn around to bounce ideas off of would likely help his creative process, but Ezio didn’t want to worry the blond, either. Morgyn had plenty of other things to worry about right now, that was perhaps asking too much. Or perhaps Ezio was being overprotective again, that was possible, too. Ezio didn’t how to not be protective of Morgyn, though. Maybe he couldn’t.
The black haired man released a sigh, and slid down in his seat, his hands dropping into his lap. Ezio was running out of ideas. He needed some kind of guidance because he wasn’t getting anywhere on his own, but thus far, the mystery leather-bound book had been silent. Maybe he wasn’t meant to understand right this second, maybe it was waiting for something, but Ezio was a curious type, and the trouble with Embers was that they so very rarely had any caution. They tended to dive headlong into whatever for quite silly reasons, actually, and this was an intriguing mystery if Ezio had ever seen one. Of course he was going to dive headlong into this one, or try.
The book, of course, had other ideas, though.
As he stared at his nails, he heard footsteps behind him, and turned to his left. Nothing was there, and he looked confused for a split second before he heard laughing on the right side. Ezio turned then, and ended up looking right at a rose, petals bright red, in a dusky-skinned hand. Grey eyes alighted and looked up to meet Jackson’s gaze. He always looked like he was in on some secret that no one else was, this weird glint of mischievousness in his eyes. Ezio may be a little broken and still not find him very physically attractive, but he did love his eyes.
“Jackson, when did you get back?” he asked.
“Not that long ago,” Jackson answered, and then he moved the rose a little closer. “It’s for you.”
“Oh,” Ezio said, almost breathlessly, reaching up to take the flower. He turned it around in his hand, watching the patterns in the petals and the way the light fell over the grooves in it. “Thank you.”
“Only the best for my baby, of course,” Jackson said, his eyes twinkling. The man, his own hair black, thicker eyebrows than Ezio’s, and similarly grey eyes, a light dusting of freckles on his skin, leaned over the chair to kiss Ezio’s hair, and then settled down on the armrest. “How are you?” he asked.
“It’s been a good week,” Ezio answered. It had been. He hadn’t collapsed but that once, and that was probably because he’d stood up too quick. That happened sometimes. “Weren’t you staying in Selvadorada for another week?”
Jackson snorted, reaching over and taking Ezio’s hand. “I was,” he said. “And then I got a little homesick, so I came back early. Besides, you know I miss you when I’m gone.”
Ezio smiled shyly, glancing down at the rose in his hand.
“Hey, I managed to avoid the bugs this time,” Jackson said.
“That’s good,” Ezio answered, glancing up at him.
“It’s all thanks to you,” Jackson said, reaching over and tilting Ezio’s head up. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Ezio said. “Like I said, it’s been a good week.”
“I worry, you know,” Jackson said. “Someday, you gotta get better babe. Then we can go together, and I can introduce you to my mystical skeleton friends. I think you’d like them.”
Ezio did tend to like things like that. Ezio was always about learning, though he believed that life couldn’t be lived in the pages of a book, because there were a lot of things he’d never have the chance to experience. He pretended otherwise, but it was mostly to make Morgyn feel better, not because he believed it.
Oh! “Oh right, Morgyn was promoted to Sage of Untamed Magic,” Ezio said.
“Oh, was she?” Jackson asked. He didn’t notice it, when Ezio flinched slightly at the pronoun. “Congratulations to Morgyn, though it’s a bit surprising she ended up with it.”
“Morgyn is the strongest untamed mage,” Ezio answered, trying not to look annoyed.
“You are,” Jackson said.
“No,” Ezio answered. “Morgyn is.” He’d gone over that with Morgyn, though. A Sage that couldn’t stay upright some days, occasionally wasn’t awake for the better part of a week, that wouldn’t be any good for anyone, Ezio knew that and had no illusions about it. Morgyn still seemed to believe otherwise, but Ezio thought it was less that Morgyn believed otherwise, and more than Morgyn hoped otherwise.
Ezio did love the blond, but sometimes Morgyn was oh so deceptive to none other than Morgyn.
“You are,” Jackson said softly, leaning over to nudge his forehead against Ezio’s.
“I’m not that strong,” Ezio replied.
“Sure you are,” Jackson answered, and then sat back up. “Hey, I’m going to go get a vase for that okay? Don’t go anywhere.” Jackson leaned over, his lips meeting Ezio’s for a brief moment, and then he hopped off the armrest and went into the kitchen.
Like always, the spark wasn’t there, and Ezio tried not to look disappointed as Jackson wandered off. How long did it take for it to be there? He didn’t know. The weirdest part was, Ezio had more of a reaction to Drake smiling at him, than he did to his boyfriend kissing him. Maybe… no. He didn’t need Morgyn telling him Jackson was no good for him even in his head. He was trying, and that was the important part. Ezio could be patient.
It looked right on the side table. That wasn’t where Ezio wanted it to be, necessarily, but if he moved it outside of his room, it had a high chance of being knocked over by a stray spell. Stray spells were always ricocheting around downstairs, and it was somewhat amazing that they didn’t have to replace everything down there every two days. Well, there was a reason they’d invented the Repairio spell, no? For a moment, Ezio got lost admiring the rose in its little vase, and then sat down on the bed. Jackson was over by the closet, rummaging through his luggage and changing clothes. It was nice to have him back, even if Ezio didn’t entirely know what he felt about Jackson being back.
Sometimes, the alone time was nice. Jackson was the sort of man that was outgoing and loud, and Morgyn was already exhausting on that front. Ezio wasn’t necessarily introverted, he liked people well enough, he just sometimes needed to be left alone for a bit. Maybe that was introversion, huh.
Anyway, Ezio wanted to be happy that Jackson was here, but mostly he was a hair disappointed he wouldn’t have any more alone time. Grey eyes flicked to the leather-bound book of mysteries on the dresser. It kept shimmering strangely in the light, but Jackson hadn’t noticed, and Ezio wasn’t sure how to explain it, so he wouldn’t bother trying to. Sometimes, it was easier not to fumble with things like that. When Ezio had more answers and understood it himself better, he’d try then. Then again, Jackson rarely ever seemed that interested in the strange rambles that Ezio got onto sometimes. There were times Ezio rocketed off on some stray nerdy subject, and he could see Jackson’s eyes haze over. Well, some people weren’t interested in sciences and language. Ezio was the weird one, most likely.
Ezio laid down on the bed, watching Jackson. After a moment, Jackson glanced back at him, smiled, and turned back to getting his shirt changed. “Like what you see?” Jackson asked. His words had that playful tone he usually took when talking about things like that.
Ezio didn’t answer verbally, just smiled slightly. Truth be told, no, he didn’t. Ezio never disliked it, he just didn’t find Jackson that attractive. He found nobody that attractive, though. Once, Ezio and Morgyn were standing around in Caster’s Alley, talking to Caleb, and someone squeaked in the background about how Caleb was hot. Ezio had blinked at it, looked more seriously at Caleb, and not understood at all. Sure, he was aesthetically pleasant, but that wasn’t the same thing as hot, or at least, it wasn’t as far as Ezio understood it. Maybe he was understanding the word wrong.
Ugh, the rules of attraction were about as stupid as gender was.
“I can’t stay long,” Jackson said suddenly, pulling the new shirt on.
Ezio blinked, his eyes widening slightly, expression falling flat. And then, as always he did when Jackson said things like that, he looked sad. But this was nothing new. Jackson could never stay long. It was always he was here for maybe a few days, and then he went right back to somewhere. Littlehaven, San Myshuno, Selvadorada, Shang Simla, Granite Falls, Sulani, Isla Paradiso, it was always somewhere. Ezio was trying not to wonder about it. It hurt less when he didn’t.
“I see,” he said softly.
“Hey, don’t make that face,” Jackson said, leaning over the bed to catch Ezio’s lips with his own for a moment. “It’ll just be another couple weeks. You’ll barely even miss me.”
“I already miss you,” Ezio said. “I was hoping you could stay for a little longer than usual this time.”
“Ahh, I can’t,” Jackson answered. “I’ve got an opportunity to go to Sulani, they’re doing underwater diving to check out Mua Pel’am and study the volcano, and they need me. I may never get this chance again, Ez, I got to.”
Ezio understood that. He wanted to be angry about it, be angry that Jackson would rather spend time underwater with a fucking volcano than with him, but, Jackson was just a free spirit. And being able to spend the time in Sulani studying the volcano, that was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Really, Ezio was being an asshole, he should be happy for Jackson. The more he thought about it, though, the sadder he was.
“Someday, I want to see Sulani too,” Ezio said.
“Maybe someday,” Jackson said, shifting around to sit down next to Ezio. “Just not this time. You know your heart probably wouldn’t like hanging around a volcano, and you shouldn’t get so stressed out.” Idly, one hand reached out and rested on Ezio’s back, tracing little circles there against his shirt.
“I know,” Ezio replied. Of course, he was doing a little better now. It occurred to him, right then, that Jackson had the most exposure to the world outside magic realm of all of Ezio’s boyfriends. It stood to reason, he should know that world as well as the Vatores. So why hadn’t he mentioned… no. No, that was silly, Jackson probably just didn’t know how medical advancements were doing now, and Lilith had to know because she was always at the hospital getting plasma packs nowadays. (Caleb didn’t like biting people.)
“Like I said, it won’t be that long, I promise,” Jackson said. “And I’ll bring you pictures of course.”
Ezio didn’t care about the pictures. “Okay.” Ezio went quiet for a moment, and then looked back up at Jackson. “Do we have time to do something together before you go?”
“Of course,” Jackson said. “Anything you want, babe. Though… I have an idea.”
“Yeah?” Ezio asked.
Jackson smirked like he’d just learnt the secrets of the universe, leaning over and kissing Ezio, trailing kisses across his jaw, nudging him over. Ezio didn’t protest any, moving where Jackson wanted him to. That wasn’t what he meant. Ezio didn’t bother saying anything, and as Jackson’s hand trailed down his leg, he got the feeling that this relationship was going to be a lot of whatever it was that Jackson wanted.
If the sound of Jackson’s voice beyond Ezio’s door that morning were anything to go by, Ezio wasn’t coming down anytime soon. For the most part, it was easy to forget that Jackson even existed at all. He came in like a tornado, ripped some things up, disrupted the natural flow of life, and then went again, and Morgyn had long gotten used to it. He was a momentary distraction, a slight problem for a short period of time. Morgyn glared at the coffee pot as it spluttered its water and brewed the bean juice that kept Morgyn’s head on straight. The blond would need a lot of it to prevent from breaking Jackson’s neck.
With any luck, he’d decide to go bother someone else today. Of course, Ezio probably would want him to stay, but Morgyn was always very glad to see him go somewhere else.
“Morning,” Drake greeted, wandering in to make a plasma fruit smoothie. It was easier, people asked fewer questions about a smoothie.
Morgyn didn’t answer with words, simply grunted.
“What’s up?” Drake asked. Clearly, Morgyn was upset about something.
The blond snorted. “He’s here.”
Ah. Yes, Drake had noticed that. He tried not to think about it too much. There were some bonuses to being a vampire and having such great hearing, and there were a number of drawbacks, too. “That he is,” Drake said, dropping what he needed for his smoothie into the blender.
“He always puts me in a bad mood,” Morgyn said. “How are you holding up?”
“Much better than you are, apparently,” Drake replied.
“I just don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, you know,” Drake said. He understood. Simply, it was better for him in the long run not to squint at Ezio’s boyfriends too much, unless he had a reason to believe they were actively harmful. That was Ezio’s business, after all, not his. Besides, it hurt a little less.
“I don’t know, sometimes it seems like you’re judging me,” Morgyn answered. The coffee pot spluttered and stopped, releasing a hiss, and Morgyn poured a cup.
Drake arched an eyebrow, glancing over one shoulder at the blond before turning back to the blender. “I’m not judging you,” he said.
“No, but I can tell you think this isn’t any of my business,” Morgyn said, sitting down at the table with a sigh. “And you know what, you’re right. Ezio’s a grown man, he can make his own choices, and trip into his own hurts. I just hate it.”
“Oh, you’re not the only one,” Drake murmured. “But you said it yourself. Ezio is a grown man. It’s not up to us to try and make his decisions for him.”
Morgyn loosed a sigh, weight shifting. “I don’t want to make his decisions.”
“Don’t you?” Drake asked, turning to the blond. “I know you mean well, but this is the part where we give him the space to be himself, even if we think he’s making the wrong choices.”
Morgyn sighed again, but didn’t argue that point. Drake was right, and the blond knew it. “The hardest part is accepting that he is making the wrong choices and letting him do it.”
“I learnt not to pay too much attention to it,” Drake said.
“Unfortunately, I can’t shut it out. Ezio’s my twin, we share everything.” Morgyn paused a moment, sipping the coffee, and then made a face. “Okay, not exactly everything, but close.”
“I was going to say…” Drake said. “For what it’s worth, though, Ezio seems to like Jackson. I suppose that’s all I need to know.”
Morgyn snorted, loudly. “He doesn’t like Jackson, you and I both know that,” the blond argued. “Ezio doesn’t like anyone, he just tolerates them, and he’s literally too nice to tell anyone to fuck off.” As far as Morgyn was concerned, Ezio only dated because he got asked, and was too nice to turn people down, not because he was personally interested in dating. People took advantage of it, that was all. Morgyn was sick of watching it happen, but Ezio would be Ezio. Morgyn wasn’t sure if the blond wanted him to start saying no, or if Morgyn was glad he was so kind. No, more often than not, Morgyn wished he wasn’t so kind.
“I don’t know what Jackson wants,” Morgyn went on, “but he’s not getting it.”
Drake cast a glance at Morgyn, and then turned back to the blender. “You shouldn’t chase him off,” Drake said. “Sooner or later, Ezio’s going to hate you for it.”
Morgyn snorted derisively, turning to the opposite wall.
“At least wait until he’s done something offensive,” Drake said.
“He did do something offensive,” Morgyn murmured into the coffee cup. “He exists.”
“Morgyn,” Drake said, sighing.
“What?” The blond took a drink of coffee. “The worst that happens is that Ezio hates me. Honestly, I’d rather Ezio never speaks to me again, than some idiot screws him over. Again. I might remind you of his great track-record at picking the worst possible guys to go out with. Do you remember Dan?”
Drake grunted.
“And do you remember Greg? That guy was terrible!”
“Yeah, I remember him,” Drake said.
“Oh, and Tyler!”
“Okay, stop, stop it,” Drake interrupted. “I get it, he’s bad at boyfriends.”
“No, he’s probably bad at people,” Morgyn said. “I suppose that doesn’t make much of a difference, though. The point is, I’m tired of this, Drake. And if I have to make a few sacrifices to make it stop, that’s worth it to me.”
Drake was quiet for a moment, blending the smoothie together. As he stared at the mixture, though, a thought occurred to him, and he turned up to look at Morgyn. “I know you think you can handle it now,” he said. “But what about when your righteous anger goes away? Will you still be able to handle it then?”
“Oh please don’t get philosophical on me,” Morgyn grumbled. “Look, that’s my problem, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” Drake said. “But don’t permanently hurt Ezio, and yourself, over something that is temporary.”
Morgyn stared at him, jaw setting, and then released a sigh. “What is it with everyone and questioning me these days?”
“It’s good for you,” Drake replied. “You should be thinking about things like this a little harder than usual.”
“You could just ask him out,” Morgyn said. “That’d solve this whole mess really quick.”
“Okay, and with that, we are done here,” Drake said, heading out the doorway, smoothie in hand.
Morgyn released another sigh. These two idiots were such idiots.
Strangely, when Jackson was staying at headquarters, everyone started avoiding Ezio. It wasn’t like they were avoiding Ezio, he wasn’t stupid. They were avoiding Jackson, he knew that much. Of course, it didn’t make him feel any better about it, but he supposed no one expected it to. Ezio still didn’t understand the strange dislike of Jackson. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and, technically neither had any of Ezio’s other boyfriends. At least, Ezio didn’t think so. Clearly everyone else disagreed. He decided a long time ago they could disagree if they wanted, it wasn’t like Ezio cared that much.
Still, it’d be nice, if his friends were a bit more supportive. Ezio was used to them deciding they didn’t like his choices in partner. Of course, Ezio knew that he didn’t choose them, they seemed to choose him. Someday, he was sure, he could come to love one, or at least, that was the hope.
He sat in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea. Distantly, he could hear the sound of the rushing water outside, occasional fizzles and bangs from someone doing magic somewhere. These were normal sounds to him, by now, sounds that he barely paid any attention to because they were so common now. L. passed by the entryway, nodded at him and smiled as she went. L. was never very nice, it was somewhat concerning when she was, but he was getting used to that, too.
And then Morgyn scooted through the doorway, settling down in the chair beside him. “Hey,” the blond greeted. “How are you?”
Ezio smiled a little and shrugged one shoulder. “I’m okay.” He was in a good mood, actually, despite the slight ache from last night. There was always that ache after.
“How long is he staying this time?” Morgyn asked.
Ezio shot the blond a very annoyed look, and then turned back down to his tea. “A week,” Ezio answered softly.
That wasn’t very long. Morgyn could be glad for that much, though inevitably Ezio was going to be rather displeased by it. He always took it so hard, and Jackson didn’t seem to have any idea how much of a prick he was being. Either that or he knew very well, and didn’t care. Morgyn wasn’t so certain which one it was, and most days, didn’t entirely care. That wasn’t the point.
“Look, Morgyn,” Ezio started, “I know you don’t like Jackson, but I wasn’t really asking you to like him. Just to accept that I do.”
Morgyn took a breath in, head tilting slightly. “I’ll accept it when you choose someone better,” the blond answered.
Ezio snorted slightly, giving Morgyn a very confused look. “What is better, exactly?” he asked. Morgyn seemed to have some kind of idea of what sort of person Ezio should be dating, and in spite of his better judgement, he was curious what kind of person that was.
First of all, anyone but Jackson, but Morgyn didn’t say that. “I don’t know how you tolerate that loser, that’s all.”
Ezio arched an eyebrow. “He’s not a loser. Why don’t you like him? He hasn’t done anything to earn this.”
He wasn’t Drake, for starters. They’d been over that about a thousand times, and Ezio always had some odd excuse or another, usually different excuses, not to talk to Drake about his long-standing feelings. Morgyn was very sure that Ezio and Drake had been in love with each other since the day they showed up out of the blue in magic realm, hand in hand.
Ezio didn’t want to separate from Drake, so they were never far apart for at least the first week. Morgyn didn’t like it then, but had come to accept it, because Drake knew Ezio in ways that Morgyn never would. It wasn’t to say the blond couldn’t, of course. They were twins, and Morgyn could come to understand anything, given time and explanations. But Ezio couldn’t bring himself to give those explanations, and Morgyn would never demand them.
At this point, Drake was the only person Morgyn could accept Ezio dating. Because Drake loved him more than was logical, and Ezio needed him more than was logical.
“I just don’t,” Morgyn answered, as if that was enough of an answer.
“Damn it, Morgyn,” Ezio murmured under his breath, setting his teacup down on the table. “We can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this, why do you keep doing this, anyway?”
“I just explained why,” Morgyn said, arms crossing in front of the blond. “It isn’t my fault if you don’t like the explanation and don’t want to accept it. But you can lie to me, and you can lie to Drake, but you can’t lie to yourself. You know that none of these boyfriends of yours have been really good for you. And I mean really good for you, none of them have ever made you happy. You walk into a room Drake is in and you light up like a jack-o-lantern someone put a lit candle into. Ezio, you’re brighter when he’s there, that’s what I want for you. Even if it’s not Drake you ever accept, but I really wish it would be, I just-“
“Morgyn, stop it,” Ezio said, standing up and setting his teacup in the sink. “It’s not like I’m unhappy.”
Yes, he was. Ezio would argue that point until he turned blue, and Morgyn knew what stressing him out did. The blond took another breath in, head tilting to the side, and then looked down at the floor.
“You’re not happy, either,” Morgyn said softly.
“Sure I am,” Ezio said.
“Not being unhappy is not the same thing as being happy,” Morgyn argued.
Ezio didn’t have an argument for that. He had no idea what happiness even was to begin with. Well, maybe he had a slight idea. He remembered so little of France, but there were bits and pieces, snatches of Drake teaching him letters and what sound they made, split second moments of Ezio teaching Drake to dance in turn, that almost made his heart feel like it was going to burst for how much he wanted those moments back.
But that was gone, now, and there was no sense in wanting that back. If he spent too long looking behind him, he couldn’t move forward.
“I appreciate that you mean well,” Ezio said, standing up straighter. “And I still love you and I always will. But mind your own fucking business.” Ezio didn’t wait for a response, instead stalking out of the kitchen and leaving Morgyn to the blond’s turbulent thoughts.
Green eyes closed, and Morgyn let out a sigh, hand raising to press against the bridge of the blond’s nose. That had gone spectacularly.
Something was very wrong.
There were times, many, actually, throughout the course of history, where the world experienced a great upheaval, and a sudden massive change. Humans used many different words to refer to these periods, but he liked to refer to them as age shifts. These shifts were important, and almost always were headed by a destroyer.
All throughout time, in all ages, there were people that were great influencers, whose purpose in life was to cause great change, and that change can be either good, or bad. Especially terrifying were times when more than one destroyer was present in an era at one time, and, gods forbid, were not necessarily working towards the same goals. These were periods of intense chaos and confusion, times that took a good deal of effort and probably years to recover and rebuild from.
He had lived through many of these times, and many Destroyers, and if he was interpreting the future correctly, he would live through many more of them.
The man, light-skinned, some might say sun-kissed, with a dusting of freckles across his nose, short slightly messy pale blond hair falling to just below his ears, and vibrant icy blue eyes, tapped one finger against the chess piece as he held it, scanning the board for a place to put it down. Once you picked up a chess piece, you committed to moving that piece and couldn’t place it back where it was. Quietly, his other hand tapped rapidly against one leg, the other bouncing under the chair. The movement caused the pieces on the board to vibrate slightly, but not enough to distract him from his pondering.
Not far behind him, near the windows, was a very tall, board-shouldered man, slightly darker in skin tone than the blond, wavy brown hair falling to his shoulders, grey eyes watching the snow fall beyond the glass. The blond set the piece down on the board, and the leg that was still no longer was. The brown-haired man by the window released a sigh, glancing at the blond.
“You’re nervous,” he said. The tone made it quite obvious it was not quite a question, but was intended to open the door, if the blond wished to discuss what was on his mind.
Instead, the blond reached for another piece. Then, the blond tilted his head, frowning at the board. Something was wrong. No, if he thought about it, the blond knew what was wrong, this feeling, it was familiar to him by now…
“What’s wrong?” the brunet asked softly. The blond got like this from time to time, where it seemed like he was more in his head than he was anywhere else, and sometimes the brunet had to try perhaps too hard to get his attention.
Still, the blond did not answer, setting the chess piece in his hand back down. He knew what was wrong. What he didn’t know was how the course of destiny would go. One could argue that destroyers were designed to defy the course of destiny anyway, if there was a such thing as destiny (the blond was not fond of the theory), and so the course of destiny made precisely no difference whatsoever. That argument would not entirely be incorrect, but the blond had reservations. First of all, he was not entirely certain which human was the destroyer, or if there were more than one.
These agents of change were unpredictable. There was never any promise that the change they wrought would be good. When a destroyer was born, it was as if the whole world held its breath, waiting for them to decide if they were going to bring about positive reform and forward movement, or if they were going to plunge the world into darkness, for no reason other than that they could.
The blond picked up another piece, tapping the side of it softly. The brunet simply watched in fascinated interest. The blond reached out to set the piece down, but the very edge of the wood tapped against another piece, causing it to fall. The blond dropped the piece in his hand. “Faex,” the blond swore. It was Latin, long dead by now, but still the language the blond used instinctively. Icy blue eyes fell to the board. The king had been knocked over.
That didn’t bode well.
The brunet released a sigh, unfolding his arms and moving over to the chess board. He knelt down beside the blond, reaching over to take both of his hands. The blond turned to face him, and the brunet could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he thought too hard about whatever was in his mind. What did he see? “What’s wrong?” he asked instead.
And for a moment, the blond’s vibrant eyes glazed over, turning hazy and unfocused, and the brunet feared he’d lost him in some vision or another, but then those eyes blinked, and focused again. “A destroyer is awakening,” he said quietly.
The brunet blinked, unconsciously tightening his grip on the blond’s hands. “Are you sure?” he asked, just as quiet, eyebrows furrowing in concern.
“Yes,” the blond replied. “We must prepare. There is a storm coming, and I don’t know what damage it will do.”
The other man drew a breath in, turning down to look at the floor.
“We will endure,” the blond said. “We always do.”
Yes, they always did. The brunet knew that. But every time was a little harder on the blond. This one, he was never a fighter, never intended to be. He was intended to love, the brunet knew that, and his ability to love was destroyed by those around him. It was a miracle he could, now, but he was stronger than he looked. Even so, he weakened, a little at a time, every day, and every storm. The brunet wondered how many more storms it’d be, before the blond couldn’t endure anymore, and was finally gone.
He said none of that. The blond didn’t need that. Instead, the brunet nodded. “Of course.”
Previous | Chapter Listing | Next
