Beauty

by WOWZAcoolBEANS

In a dim world, Eliot Nightray was his hope. Still, such a filthy fool could never hope to be close to that person who basked in the light, even if he was the one that he cared about the most. Reo/Eliot. Oodles of angst.

Title: Beauty

Synopsis: In a dim world, Eliot Nightray was his hope. Still, such a filthy fool could never hope to be close to that person who basked in the light, even if he was the one that he cared about the most. Reo/Eliot. Oodles of angst.

Rating: T

A/N: This is sort of darker than I usually write, to be honest. I really like it though. After the past couple chapters my muse decided that I should write Reo, which I don't usually do, and so here is the fruits of that effort. Please enjoy, and please review, if you have a moment. A few words of encouragement or criticism makes my day. Especially when it took me as long as it did to write this. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Pandora Hearts because if I did I would know what was going on!

…

"And Beauty is a form of Genius-is higher, indeed, than Genius, as it needs no explanation."

-The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

…

He felt like he could melt into that personality. That everything that this boy was, he would become, if he would just take him under his wing and let him be with him. If he were to let go of himself then being with this other person would become the most important thing to him; that he would lose himself in Eliot and he would become something greater, something brighter.

And that frightened him to the core.

In just a few short meetings this boy had made more of an impact on his life than few others had, without even trying. Without even realizing it, either. Now when he closed his eyes what he saw was that face, surrounded by the light that seemed to follow him everywhere, and it called to him with a smile and an outstretched arm. Most beauty he wanted to taint; he wanted to slash it with a sword or shove it into the darkness, never to be seen or heard from again. The beauty that Eliot had, however, was like a light and he was a fly. A disgusting, dirty, disease-filled fly. All he wanted was to get closer to it; to be near it and to love it and to never leave it alone.

Yet, he wanted to shove it away. He couldn't look at that light for too long. All it would do, in the end, is blind him or even kill him. Still, even with him knowing this fact, he crept closer, sometimes without even knowing it, and tried to bask in the glow of that light and that beauty that was so far from him.

"You're quiet today," Reo had hoped, dearly hoped, that he wouldn't come like he said he would. "Is there something wrong?" There's something really innocent about his voice. He speaks like he'd speak to a family member. He speaks like he'd actually care if Reo were upset. He tries to, but never succeeds in flaunting his status as a noble; he seems different from the rest. Reo desperately hopes that it's a lie and that he will leave and Reo will plunge back into the darkness once again.

Reo ignores him; it's all that he can do.

There were people like this one before and there would be plenty after Eliot abandoned him. Nobles who came who acted like the orphans were pets; they'd point to one and pat their head and maybe give them a piece of candy with a sickening grin. Nothing about those people was real; from their smiles to their promises of a better tomorrow, they oozed lies and cruelty. Broken promises and deception paved their lives and how they came and tricked orphans into believing that they would give them a future and a friend was even worse. More often than not those 'chosen' children would end their nights crying until they ran away and became Contractors or beggars on the streets. To give a person with no future hope and then to steal it away was more cruel than ignoring them as they begged for change on the streets.

Eliot was just like all of them; he had to be. He would sit there with Reo, listening to him play the piano or reading with him, as if he were more than just the scum of the earth; more than an orphan with nothing to live for and no one to believe in. Eliot made him believe-in his weakest moments, of course- that maybe the two of them were friends.

Blasphemy. To the scum of the earth like him, there was no friendship. He was ugly; there were too many secrets that had broken him apart piece by piece. Even if, by some chance, this boy wanted to be with Reo, he was damaged goods. A clock cannot turn if the gears inside of it are smooth.

"Reo?" That boy's book is closed now-Reo hadn't even noticed him do it-and he was looking at his frie- at Reo with those eyes full of concern and glittering kindness. "Do you need a doctor, or something? You look ill."

Reo shakes his head; this concern is too much for him. It has to be lies. It has to be. "I'm just tired," He tells the boy. "I'm just tired, that's it. There's no need to be concerned." He hates it when Eliot is concerned about him. That angelic little face frowns and those large eyes grow soft. He prefers it when Eliot is angry about something, ready to smash something. It's easier to deal with, then, he thinks. Easier to think that when this all comes crashing down that he will be able to survive and keep going.

Eliot lets his breath flow from his mouth in a heavy, but relieved sigh. His body, tense a moment before, relaxes and he, once again, leans back against the brick wall of the library, the place where the two of them had met and now spend most of their time together.

"That'll ruin your clothes," Reo tells him, looking down at the book in his hands; he hadn't paid attention to the words within it at all. When Eliot is in the room the words mush together and become utter nonsense. Something more important was with him and that distracted Reo. Having the book in his hands, however, was a distraction in of itself. It also gave him an excuse not to look this boy in the eye; and gave his hands something to do. Turn a page, mark a line, find a chapter, anything to try to keep himself from focusing solely on Eliot and his presence. But when Eliot was not there, books were all he had. He could escape to the world of words when this burst of light was not there, and he could use it to try ignore him when he was. "The brick will catch on your fancy, tailored clothes and you'll have to go back to mommy to get you new ones. The floor is dirty, to. You probably shouldn't sit on it."

Eliot rolls his eyes; Reo is peaking at him from behind his large mass of hair. "Sorry for caring," Eliot mumbles, looking down at his own book. It was brought from his home, not from the library at the orphanage. Reo yearns to see what sort of library the Nightray household has; he can only imagine what it looks like. Books everywhere, covering every surface, more than he could possibly read in a lifetime. Eliot has had this pleasure since he was a child. Reo has read most of the books in the orphanage's small library already. Eliot sighs again, this time much more exasperated than the first. "I guess I should be going, then. I'm sure that my brothers are all…" He trails off and looks at Reo.

Reo prays that he cannot see the tears falling from his eyes. If he could stop, he would; it wasn't like he wanted to be so immature and dependent. Usually he was able to hold this in, all of these swirling emotions that he hasn't had before, but that day the walls broke and they came flooding in. Flooding out through his eyes. "Very well," Reo tells Eliot, still looking down at his book, a few wet drops dripping onto the already abused white pages of the old tome. "Goodbye," Never 'see you soon', never 'come back', always 'goodbye', or 'farewell'. There was no need to get ones hopes up only to have them be dashed. It was Reo's assumption that every time he saw Eliot, it would be his last. When he thought that way, it was safer for him in the end.

There's silence for a moment; each of the boys do everything they can but look at each other. "Then I guess I'll go," There's nothing else to do, nothing else to say, is there? Eliot would go and, once again, Reo would be plunged back into the darkness of this pathetic orphanage and into the hell of his own turbulent mind. When Eliot was there it felt like the shadows could dissipate and sometimes it even seemed like they'd be gone forever, but as soon as he left… Eliot stands up and dusts the dirt off of the front of his pants. "I'll be back soon, Reo. I promise."

All of these feelings are conflicting, and Reo knows that. He's a hypocrite of the worst kind. He wants him to stay, he wants him to go, he wants him to be back tomorrow, he wants him to return to his pleasant life and never step foot here again. Insanity, maybe? Was that it? Reo wasn't sure. It felt, however, like it was beginning to become that.

"Don't," Reo tells him, surprising the both of them. "Don't tell lies. Don't get people's hopes up. You'll disappear, just like everyone else has. So don't…" He trails off and a small sob convulses in his chest; he speaks as he tries to keep it in. "Just…" It sounds choked and miserable. Pathetic and sad. Eliot stares.

He wants to tell Eliot to leave and to never return. To have this light dangled in front of his face and then taken away without warning was too cruel. He was no masochist; he knew when he was in pain and he did not enjoy it. Whenever Eliot came the grief would disappear for an hour or so, but when the joy wore off he was left off worse than before. The lasting anguish was no longer an excuse for the momentary pleasure that Eliot gave him.

"Reo?" Eliot crouches down next to his friend; he didn't usually act this way. "Reo are you-?"

And then Reo was afraid. What if he did manage scare this person away? What was left for him then? A shattered and broken human being with too many secrets for one body to carry was all that he was. Without Eliot he would just be the same person that he was before Eliot; alone and more unhappy than imaginable. He would sit there and rot in that library until his sixteenth birthday, and then be kicked out like the others who reached adulthood and have to make it on his own in the world. And he wouldn't be able to; there was no chance. He'd die in the streets alone, wondering why he had done so bad during his life and how he could have let the one good thing to ever happen to him escape.

Still, he slapped Eliot's face, breaking off the boy's sentence and began to run away. He didn't know why he did it; he never knew why he did anything, to be honest. Even moments later the entire incident was merely a blur, a mistake of the past that would somehow affect the rest of his life. He hurt the one that he cared about the most and he desperately hoped that that person wouldn't follow him. To sever all ties now would be the best. For both of them-not that Eliot would be too upset if he were to lose Reo-to move on with their lives as quickly as possible and-

"Reo, wait! What the hell are you doing?" He hears from behind him. They're out of the library now, and in a rarely used hallway. No one would hear them there; no one would have to know what Reo had done. Reo begins to run down it, towards the room with the piano, the room that he had called his favorite since coming to the orphanage. Another place that reminded him painfully of the time that he had spent with Eliot. Eliot's footsteps are closer behind him, now, and Reo fleetingly wonders if he would follow if he happened to jump out of the window or would he watch in horror as he hit the ground and died.

Still, he wouldn't do that. Because if Eliot were to follow and die, especially if he were to die, Reo would have no rest. To be the cause of Eliot's death would be the one thing that Reo would never stand for; he would readily die himself it would give Eliot even a minute more to live. If there were anything he could do to save that person, he would do it without a moment's hesitation. Even if he never saw him again, even if he died a million deaths, Reo would do anything for that boy; the one person to ever truly seem to care. And if it was all a lie and he woke up tomorrow and the next day and every day after that and never saw Eliot again, that fact wouldn't change.

Perhaps the fake kindness was as good as the real kindness; maybe it achieved the same goals with the attachment only one side… But now was not the time to ponder that. Now was the time to run and hide and scream, for there was nothing in this world left for him and he was ready to snap.

He reached the room with the piano, but Eliot was right at his heels and he knew he would be unable to shut the door before Eliot would enter the room. Not even bothering to waste time shutting it, Reo runs to the other side of the room, leaning on the wall right next to the piano. He is panting for breath; he was malnourished-albeit less than at other orphanages-and unused to the exercise. Eliot, however, was in the peak of physical condition. With narrowed eyes he watched Reo from his position near the door, not a drop of sweat on his forehead.

Slowly, Eliot shut that door, and Reo's heart pounded in his chest.

"Reo, what's wrong?" Eliot's face was just the slightest bit red where Reo had slapped him. It had happened; Reo had managed to taint the beauty. No longer was Eliot radiating light, but instead he was angry and… hurt. It almost looked like he was hurt both physically and on the inside. And it killed Reo, it really did. Still, it wasn't enough to bring Reo back down to earth. The insanity had taken root within his mind and the emotions that he tried to hide were coming out, whether he wanted them to or not. "You're acting strange and I want to know why."

The understanding that Eliot tried so hard to put in his voice was gone and this was not the sort of flustered anger that he usually had directed towards Reo. This was real and raw and full of passion and Reo loved and feared every moment of its terrifying might and magnificence.

He could not think of any words to say. There was nothing in his mind besides Eliot's eyes burning into his, making him sink back farther into the wall, pushing on it so hard that he thought it may buckle at any moment. "I…" He muttered, but had nothing to say after it, no coherent thoughts to express anymore.

The two stared at each other, though Eliot couldn't tell where Reo's eyes were really focused. Reo's bangs hid him from the world; it hid him from the ugliness and the beauty that was before him. Reo was a coward and he knew that and embraced it. It was a fact that he had learned to deal with years ago. Even now, with the person whom he considered to be the most and least important person in the world, he could not think of a word to say. He was too frightened.

Eliot was the one who broke the silence. His eyes dropped to the window at the far side of the room and he exhaled through his nose, a small chuckle accompanying it. "I understand, then," He puts his hands in the pockets of his suit. "I'm sorry for bothering you for so long. I'll stop visiting you if you really hate me that-"

"I don't hate you," Reo says looking down at the floor, wincing, talking too quickly, and showing that he cares too much. "Don't say that I hate you, Eliot. That's a lie." The tears are falling again, and he can't help it.

Eliot takes a step forward, but hesitates to do anything else. He takes the hands out of his pockets, one of them reaching just a little forward to Reo, but ultimately falling to his side, hanging as uselessly as he feels. He does not know what to do. "Then why are you doing this?" He asks softly, looking down. He shakes his head and looks at Reo, flames in his eyes this time. "What is wrong with you?" He yells, walking to the wall he was nearest to and kicking it so hard that the room shook. "Damn it, I don't understand what's going on. I hate it!"

And then Reo is yelling and he doesn't know why. "Go ahead and hate it, hate something!" Eliot turns from the wall and stares at Reo, his eyes wide as Reo laughs whilst tears fall down his cheeks at the same time. He really was a lunatic. "You're so goddamned… you and I hate it! You'll leave and I'll be alone and you'll be no worse for the wear!" He's sobbing now, gut-wrenching sobs that make him almost fall over. His hand grasps the top of the piano, his knuckles turning white with the iron grasp that he has on it. "And I can't stand it! I'm so weak and you're not and I'm not even worthy to be in your presence!"

Eliot stares at Reo, who has slid down against the wall and was now on the floor, crouched beside the piano, clutching his knees in his hands. Eliot doesn't know what to think; that Reo is insane or if he is the most honest person that he has ever known. He takes a few steps closer, but feels like he'd be intruding. Still, if Reo needs him, he wants to be there for him. There have been few people who Eliot has ever cared about more than Reo.

To be honest, Eliot had not had many friends. The sons and daughters of other nobles would occasionally come to 'play' with him or he would go to their mansions, but there were no lasting relationships between him and any of them. Sure, he would have someone to stand next to and make small talk with at social engagements, but he didn't care about those people at all. Nor did they care about him. All they wanted was the title of Nightray or the respect of a member of one of the noblest families around. They were all just leeches, whereas the time with Reo was different. It was mutually beneficial… Or at least that was what Eliot had thought. Reo was the first person that he ever wanted to be with, to spend time with, and to see every day. No one had ever had such a lasting effect on Eliot, and no one ever would.

"Reo…" Eliot takes a breath and walks over to Reo, kneeling down next to him. "What makes you think that I'm…" He can't even speak; he doesn't even know what to say. How could he make him know that he would never leave him? That it didn't matter what happened, Eliot would make sure that the two of them were always together. That there would never be anyone who could possibly take the place that Reo had in his heart now. "What brought this on, Reo?"

Reo stares up at him, his eyes covered by his hair and his cheeks wet with tears. He has stopped crying now, but his face was red from all of the crying he had done. Some of his hair was damp too, now, sticking to his cheeks. "You're just like the rest of them, aren't you? You can't be different from them, if you were…" he trails off, shaking his head. "No, you're the same. Just another noble, coming here to… to…" He stops talking again, his head slumping backwards against the wall. It is all just too much for him. "Eliot, I think that I have a problem. I don't know how to fix it. You should probably leave and please, don't come-"

"What are you talking about?" Eliot yells, grabbing Reo's shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Do you think that I care if you have some sort of a problem?" A small smile forms on Reo's face as Eliot yells and he tries to ignore the lies that Eliot tells him. "I don't care if you're messed up or the fact that I'm a noble or anything of the sort! I could never leave you, moron. You are… I am…" His grip loosens on Reo. "We are…" He lets go and falls backwards on his knees. "I think…"

"Eliot, I love you," Reo says, taking the words that Eliot was having so much trouble with and letting them spill from his mouth. "I don't want to be without you, Eliot. I want to wake up every day and see you there with me and I want you to feel the same way that I do. Desperately, Eliot, desperately." He looks down. "The thought of living without you is like thinking of a cold, dark, lonely death and I'm scared because I'm so dependent on you. You're the only thing that can make me happy anymore and I'm afraid that it's going to be the same way for the rest of my life. One day you're going to leave me and go off to your fancy world that you were born into and I'll stay on the streets, rotting, miserable without you." Reo closes the space in-between the two of them, crawling over to Eliot and placing a hesitant hand on his cheek where he had slapped him just minutes before. "But even if you were to do that, it would be fine. I'm not worthy enough, I'm not good enough for you. There's too much that I've left behind and too much that you've got to look forward to. So leave me, because you're the most beautiful and wonderful thing that ever-"

Eliot has been breathing deeply, in and out, in and out, listening to the words that Reo says that he can't deny that he has thought of frequently, probably more so than Reo has, in fact. Still, hearing them are almost too much for him to take. These feelings that he had buried deep within himself all came to the surface at once, and they wanted to flood out. Maybe he couldn't say them as eloquently as Reo did, but he needed him to know that he was not alone, and he never would be again.

Still, he was scared. But he knew that it was now or never. That was why, as Reo spoke, Eliot leaned in and interrupted his words with a kiss.

It was not a spectacular sort of kiss; not one that would be remembered as one of the greatest kisses of all time. Reo's wet hair tickled Eliot's cheek as their lips met and Eliot wasn't sure what to do with his arms, so he sort of let them hang limply at his sides and hoped that it was okay. Reo, who was sort of in shock, didn't move much and his eyes were wide open, making sure that it was truly Eliot that he was kissing, and not some sort of strange doppelganger that had taken over the other boy's body. It wasn't a long kiss, either. It only lasted for a few seconds, albeit the longest few seconds of both of the boys' lives, but a few seconds nonetheless.

When Eliot pulled away he stared at Reo with wide eyes, unsure of what he had just done. They stared at each other, neither saying a word for a few moments. And then Eliot felt terror, sheer terror, that what he had done had just ruined everything.

Eliot's heart beat quickly in his chest. "I-I have to go!" He says, getting up and backing away before running to the door, opening it with such force that it slams against the wall and leaves a dent, and then running outside of it.

And he left Reo utterly alone.

…

When there is nothing to look forward to, days become monotonous. Time seems to move slower and the only question that you can ask oneself is 'when on earth shall I die?', and Reo asked himself that question a lot in the two months that Eliot did not return to the House of Fianna.

From when Eliot ran away hours became days, days turned into weeks and weeks turned into the two longest months of Reo's life. Reo spent his days in a sort of stupor, afraid to think or to feel, because he knew that if he were to give himself any sort of time to think his thoughts would be solely of that day and what occurred during its hours.

So Reo worked himself every hour of every day. Playing the piano, reading, doing chores, playing with the kids- even when they didn't want to be played with- anything that would take his mind off of the disaster that was that day and how empty he felt inside whenever he woke-up and the Nightray carriage was not sitting on the driveway to the orphanage and there was no hope of seeing Eliot's face again, even if for just a moment.

Nothing, however, freed him during the nights. The light only lasted so long and the orphanage could not afford to give children there a candle for their own personal usage. When the matron said that it was time for lights out, Reo had no escape. His mind would wander to the places that it yearned to be away from; his past, his inferiority, how he had ruined the only thing that he had ever wanted. As he lay awake in his bed his mind told him how useless he was, how he could not even stay near the light; instead he had flown so far away that he could no longer even see it. And as the morning light came and he went another night without sleep, his mind would linger on the fact that he would have to go through another day of hell and how, no matter what he did, the light wouldn't come back to him.

Eventually, however, the thoughts stopped. Reo became numb and unfeeling. Nothing really brought him joy; the one thing that did do that was gone now, forever lost to him. Reo counted the days until he turned sixteen and would be discharged from the orphanage as an adult, free to make his own way in the world. Maybe then he could live once again, free from the influence of the Nightray family, free from the memories of Eliot Nightray. Still, this new unfeeling personality brought about a bout of apathy that enraged the adults around him and frightened the children. However, he could not bring himself to care, even about that. There was no use in paying attention to anything anymore, was there?

And then, one day, Reo woke-up, got his clothes on, brushed his teeth and walked to the dining hall to have breakfast, and there was something different in the air. "Reo, what are you wearing?" The matron says as he walks into the dining hall. "Master Ernest and young master Eliot will be arriving any moment now and you look like you've just wrestled with a lion!" She was a small, grey-haired woman of about fifty. Kind, but impatient. Perfectly suited to the job that she had. "Please, go get changed and at least try to brush that bird's nest on top of your head, you look-" Her eyes grow wide and she looks at something behind Reo's back. He turns and he is face-to-face with… "Master Ernest, master Eliot, we weren't expecting you for another hour," the matron says, her cheeks growing red. "I'm sorry about the mess, I-"

"Please, don't worry at all, madam," Ernest tells her with a charming smile that he used to seduce many a noble's daughter. "Everything seems perfectly… Eliot, what are you doing?"

Eliot was doing what the boy had thought about every day for the past two months in great detail. Each moment he had planned since he had been such a coward four weeks previously. He would not let Reo down; he would let Reo know how much he wanted him in his life and how much he cared. Eliot had stared at Reo for a moment upon seeing him, momentarily despairing about the fact that his friend seemed much worse for the wear. It had been his fault and he knew it; what he needed to do now was make it up to him. He then had grabbed the other boy's arm and began to run away, gripping it tightly, hoping that Reo would follow.

He did.

"Boys will be boys," Ernest tells the matron with a shrug. Sure, his little brother was being a boy with such scum, but it was nice to see Eliot be enthusiastic about something at all. The matron sighs and shakes her head, but when Ernest offers her arm she accepts and she leads him into the dining hall where she will talk his ear off for the next hour and a half about how they need a bigger budget whenever the family brings another refugee there.

In two minutes the two boys make it to the library. Reo remained silent as Eliot slows down and leads him to the shelf of books where the two of them had met for the first time. Eliot runs off for a moment and grabs a chair from a nearby table and drags it over to where Reo was standing. A book caught Reo's eye and he takes it from the shelf so that he can see the title of it; it was the book that he had been reading the first time he and Eliot had met. That day had seemed so insignificant back then. Now, however, it was probably one of the most important days of his life.

"What are you hiding?" Eliot asks him, sitting backwards on the chair, his head tilted to the side. Reo says nothing; there are too many answers to that question, none of which he wants Eliot to hear. "With your hair, I mean, what are you hiding?"

He didn't know why Eliot had asked such a silly question, or why it was relevant at all. Still, the more specific question could become a more specific answer and if that answer would humor Eliot for just a moment then he would tell him. "Huh? That's not the point," he says, smiling. "I'm not trying to hide anything. It's just that I don't want to see."

Eliot looks unimpressed by this answer. "What is it that you… Don't want to see?" There's almost a bit of self-consciousness in his answer; Reo thinks it's cute. Sure, this was the person who had made his life a living hell for the past two months, but in a matter of moments he was forgiven. Eliot was beautiful; there was nothing Reo could do to keep something against him. Hadn't he said it from the start? He would forever be Eliot's, now.

"The world," Reo answers simply. Plainly. Truly. Eliot tilts his head completely to the side now; Reo had to hold back a giggle. Eliot was so naive and so sheltered. The ugliness of the world that he saw was far removed from what Reo had been through. The silly squabbles of nobles were nothing compared with true horrors. There was nothing that Eliot needed to hide from, of course he wouldn't understand. "Ah, well. There's no need for you to know."

And there truly wasn't a need for Eliot to know anything else. If he were to find the true horrors of the world then that smile, Reo was afraid, would be wiped off of his face forever. It was better that he didn't understand.

A frown comes on Eliot's face for a second, but is quickly replaced by some look that Reo can't recognize. And then he speaks words that Reo would have never guessed that he would hear. "Alright," he says, so confident and sure of himself, knowing that he can't possibly fail. "I've made up my mind. I want you to be my servant!"

Reo was a dam. His emotions built up, but he kept them from spewing over. Even when they pounded against him in waves so hard that he felt that he would fall over, he kept them within himself. Two months ago was an exception; a momentary lapse in personality brought about by an unending depression caused by his inadequacy to be with the person who he cared about the most. Now he needed to keep that dam there, pushing back everything that he felt and keeping it within the darkest caverns of his mind, never to be heard from again.

His face betrayed nothing as he put the book back on its place on the shelf where he had found it. "What's this, all of a sudden?" He asks, his voice measured and calm, showing none of the things that he was thinking of at that moment.

"This is not a snap decision," Eliot says, standing up with a proud smile. "I've thought about it for the past two months." He reaches a hand out to Reo with that smile that shows his complete control of the situation that they were in. "I think my servant should be someone as irritating as you."

"What?" And for a moment Reo contemplates this offer. He can see himself, for just a moment, in a life with Eliot. A servant in the Nightray household would be taught to fight, to protect, their charge. He would be able to be there with Eliot, be with him at all times. Helping him, protecting him, smiling with him, laughing with him…

But Reo was not fit for that. He was born to live in the dark, staring up at the unreachable beauty of an unattainable goal. It was unfair to Eliot to accept; who knew what sort of trouble Reo would bring him. "No way. No way in hell."

Humans are selfish creatures. They constantly seek to have more. Their avarice knows no bounds. The pictures in his mind of Eliot and the despair that Reo would cause him are overshadowed by the thought of Reo's happiness.

And he thinks to himself, 'could my world turn without Eliot Nightray?' and he thinks to himself, 'if having me near him, even for a while, would make him happy, then could I deny him that?' And he knows his decision.

"Ah, but… The Nightray library piques my interest. I want to read all those books! They're probably great…"

Eliot takes a step back, shocked by Reo's apparent mood swings. "Eh?"

"And I have to admit that you're not so bad." He grins and reaches out his hand to the light… to Eliot. "So, I accept your offer, master!" The words felt so good coming from his mouth. Even if it meant the eventually destruction of the both of them, he couldn't help but to relish every moment of this time. It was like all of the childish dreams that he had held close to him for longer than he could remember were coming true in the cliché sort of storybook way. If a fairy jumped out from the books and told their readers that they all lived happily ever after, Reo couldn't say that he would be surprised. And he couldn't have been happier. The light was coming to him, bringing him out of the darkness and-

"That's it?" For some reason his master looked dissatisfied. Reo tilted his head to the side, not understanding what Eliot could have possibly had a problem with. Maybe he wasn't supposed to have accepted, maybe he had done it wrong, maybe- "If you have any requests you'd better speak now."

Reo thinks for a second, wondering what Eliot could possibly think that he wants now that everything has everything that he has ever dreamed of. "Well then, it would be great if you could buy me a pair of glasses." Reo says with a grin. Maybe if he had glasses he could look at Eliot, really look at him, and be able to see him.

Maybe even seeing him as an equal someday.

They shake hands. "Do you want to hide even more?" Eliot asks him, and shrugs with a happy smile. "I…" Eliot sighs, seeming more nervous now than he had for the entire conversation. "I don't think you should be hiding at all," he tells Reo, looking away, over at a shelf of books, trying to cover up the blush that was making its way onto his cheeks. Reo noticed that there was no bruise where he had slapped him. Relief poured through Reo; if Eliot had been permanently marked by that then he would have never forgiven himself. "You're fine, so… just…"

"Tongue tied, Eliot? That's unusual for you." Reo teases, but trails off when he realizes that Eliot is still holding his hand and still blushing like a madman. "Eliot…"

"Reo, stop hiding. From me, from the world-whatever that means-and from yourself. Just…" He looks down at their intertwined hands. "Be who you are, okay? If you are then everything will be okay."

And Reo could have argued. He could have told Eliot about his past and how he was not worthy to bask in the glow of his personality, but he didn't. Instead, he stood there with nothing on his mind as he received his second kiss from the person he cared about the most, Eliot Nightray.

And maybe, just maybe, for the first time, Reo was beautiful, too.

…

Fin