Now, this is a story I randomly decided to write at 2 am and am now considering turning into a 3 or 4 parter. Definitely angsty. If you find mistakes, well, I'm German, so I'll take no responsibility lol
Herbert should have known it couldn't last.
He was too old to still be this naive, he realized; to still believe that people will stay if you just care enough, if you love them enough, give them enough little pieces of your soul to cherish until you're empty and exposed. He was an utter fool for ever believing anything would be different. In the end, they always leave.
He had just held onto hope so long, thought that maybe, after the time that had transpired and the things that they had shared, Alfred would actually want to stay if given the choice; that he might hesitate or look back and realize that he wants to be with Herbert more than with that dream of having a happy life with that little brat Sarah.
Herbert wanted to laugh at his own idiocy, but the bitter sound got stuck in his throat. He had known better, he really had. When Alfred first started sneaking into Herbert's coffin and curling his fingers into the satin nightshirt, Herbert was wise enough to not concoct any silly illusions that these are the budding blossoms of love in Alfred's heart. He had known it was loneliness, neediness, longing for comfort Alfred knew Herbert was willing to provide. When Alfred started caressing Herbert's spine with his soft hands, licking cold skin and making it feel warm, moaning meaningless words into his mouth, it was hard to stay strong, but Herbert knew; this is temporary, a fleeting moment of bliss before inevitable reality would crash down on both of them. But when Alfred started smiling gently at him for no reason, kissing the corner of his mouth before falling asleep, laying his hand on top of Herbert's still heart as if he could feel it beat, that's when Herbert lost control of himself. He had fallen so madly and hopelessly in love with that maddeningly addicting boy he had completely forgotten what had driven Alfred to the castle in the first place: Sarah, who had left as soon as she had turned Alfred.
And when she came back to the castle, looking like a matured woman while still being a child, Herbert had felt this little illusion, this slice of fantastical escapism that had lulled him in, shatter around him like glass walls. He had avoided both of them immediately, kept silent at the awkward dinner between the castle's patrons and excused himself as soon as possible. He could feel everyone's looks on him etched into his skin, but he could not care less. Herbert wanted to stave off goodbye as much as he could, for he had already known the second she had walked through the door that he had lost. Well, how could he have ever had a chance of winning against the person that Alfred had been secretly wishing for? Sarah was the dream; Herbert was just the distraction.
While looking out of his window into the dark night, watching Sarah and Alfred load their things into a carriage, he tried his best to blink away the tears threatening to spill out. Herbert was not usually one to hold back tears, unlike many others he saw no weakness in crying, but he knew that he had to be stone to get through this. Rarely had he loved so adamantly as he had loved Alfred and the only way to withstand bidding farewell to the man he could never have is if he stayed cold.
He heard the door creaking open and could immediately sense his father entering the room. Herbert did not turn to him, embarrassed to face his wise father who had probably known this was going to happen and had now come to scold him for giving into his emotions. For a while, the Count was silent, waiting for Herbert to say something, but Herbert kept staring out into the dark, as if it changed anything about the situation to be stoic.
„I hoped he would stay, for your sake."
That's all his father said, voice filled with regret and pity. Herbert bit down on his lip as hard as he could, drawing blood, willing himself to be granite, be impervious to the pain that was threatening to burst out of his chest. He heard his father sigh quietly and turn away, and then only heard the click of the door. Alone again. Alone as always.
Herbert just kept watching Sarah fakely fuss over Alfred, she must have realized that traveling alone without a lapdog was too tedious, while Alfred solemnly heaved baggage into the little carriage the Count had granted them. His father didn't seem to mind too much; in the end, Sarah had just been a toy for him, as Alfred was for her. How unfair it seemed that the one person with real feelings for a person in this got screwed over so royally.
Herbert hated himself for ever letting himself go, for letting Alfred into his heart, into his mind, into his soul, letting Alfred inhabit every little inch of his being to the point that getting rid of him seemed absolutely out of the realm of possibility, although it had to be done. He let out a shuddering sigh. What a pathetic fool I am.
All of a sudden, Alfred turns away from his task at hand and looks around, left and right until finally looking up, meeting Herbert's gaze. Immediately, Herbert's eyes hardened, or at least he hoped that they did, because everything in him wanted to run down and beg Alfred not to go. He thought he could detect something in Alfred's eyes; regret? guilt? pain? He wasn't sure. He could see Alfred breathe heavily and for a few eternities, they just stared at each other, as if they could communicate that way. But, no, Herbert couldn't understand what Alfred was trying to say to him wordlessly, and Herbert had to remain a statue, lest he embarrass himself further than he already has.
Sarah grabbed his arm and ripped him away from that momentary little world they had shared and Alfred finally turned away. Herbert wished he could do the same. It's as if his treacherous heart wanted to soak in every second it could of still seeing Alfred before losing him forever. And now, they finally started boarding the carriage, ready to set off into a new world for both of them and Herbert wished he could burn it all down until it's nothing more than rubble and ashes. Alfred glanced one more time at Herbert before sticking his head back into the carriage that would take them away. He could hear the horses' hooves click away on the ground and before he could realize it, they were already gone.
Herbert suddenly felt empty, like he had been carved out from the inside and all that was left of him was the shell. There was still that voice in his head saying he might return, he might realize that you're the one, he might realize he's in love. But Herbert could not let himself fall for such idiocies anymore. Love, truly devoted love, was something that somehow seemed to be denied to him, and if that was the way it was going to be, he'd have to accept it.
People leave. They always leave.