Xander Hawke ran a hand over the empty rumpled sheets beside him. Still warm.
It was a surreal moment. Maybe it had all been just a dream.
But the memories manifested in his flesh as a dull longing ache where a caress or a kiss had touched. The taste of lyrium on his lips.
I thought...finally...everything I've ever wanted...right here...
But you didn't even stay...
What do you mean it's too fast? You came to me. You wanted this. Did I do something wrong by giving in? Did I flirt too much and pressure you?
I thought we had broken down all the walls together...I thought the defenses were done...
But you're not ready. Maybe you never were.
I'm on the other side of the wall again.
But I'll stay here if that's where you want me to be.
He knew he couldn't sleep.
He got dressed, remembering with a sharp pain in his heart the way it had felt when Fenris had so eagerly taken those clothes off of him.
He took a deep breath that was filled with the scent of his elven lover.
What did I expect, really?
He could never love me...
I'm a mage.
An apostate.
Everything he's learned to hate.
Xander felt the sudden pressure of tears bursting from his eyes. They trickled down his cheeks against his will as he fought to wipe them away. He sat on the edge of the bed feeling the warmth of his lover fading from the sheets.
He was bombarded with years of memories of growing up with Carver's taunts, the fearful stares from others, and the panic of his mother at the mention of Templars or the Circle...
Those times he had frightened himself as he struggled to gain control over powers that seemed to burst out of him with any strong emotion.
Only Bethany had ever understood and truly accepted...
And what good had it done her?
The pain in his heart deepened at the thought of his sister. What he wouldn't give to cry on her shoulder right now...
Xander wrapped his arms around his knees and stared toward the door.
Why this beautiful torture of what could never be?
Why did it have to feel so...right?
Why did he have to be so perfect?
Fuck the magic! I never asked for it! Doesn't he know that if it were possible, I'd pull it straight from my veins and rip it from my soul if it meant he could love me?