Author's notes: Hello again. I finished my exam some time ago during May, but I was in pain writing this chapter; it literally took a week to plan and another to actually write. Some places were so very difficult, and in the end it turned out not the least bit as intended – a failure, perhaps, but I really did my best trying to bring out everything in the flow. I even made a mistake somewhere along the line, too lost in the flow, and ended up deleting pages… It was really getting me down, and in the end I was just too tired to really try and improve anything other than I already did. Also, even though the law, as mentioned in this chapter, is English, I didn't intend the setting to be in England. It's just a little imaginary town somewhere in continental Europe, so I do hope you forgive me this small detail; I simply couldn't find out the sentence for burglary in 18th century Germany or France or Italy etc. I also apologise for the mention of Antares; I know it's not visible at this time of the year, especially in the northern hemisphere, but I just couldn't resist the temptation. Thank you all for reading and for reviewing. Aynslesa, thank you for the suggestion. So far as possible, I have tried to split the paragraphs, but any further and the flow of my thoughts would be cut, so this is the best I can do. I hope it doesn't stop you from enjoying this story, and thank you for your support. Finally, this is a warning that THERE ARE MATURE CONTENTS IN THIS CHAPTER, so please read at your own discretion. I'm sorry for the long wait; enjoy the story.
The quote from this chapter is from 'A Treatise of Human Nature' (1739) by David Hume.
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Chapter 6: Thou shalt not lie with a man
'Monsieur Dégel's looks have not changed over the years… I could almost say I envied the way his cheekbones developed. Yet only look, he is so detached today.'
'Quite so; one can't help but wonder what is on his mind. But it is for certain that a lot must be in his contemplation; he is a professor now after all.'
'Indeed. I heard it from Madame X that his graduation paper was compared to that of Leibniz at the university!'
The echoes of conversation drifted in his direction, though they slowly diminished as he made his way to the back of the garden. At the last line, Dégel could not help but sigh in exasperation and amusement. Was the only thing the aristocrat capable of mindless gossip without a jot of fact, or a modicum of background knowledge? His paper was on the development and usage of Latin in continental Europe, which, had the lady known who Leibniz was, could not bear anything in common with Leibniz's fields of study. Indeed they both wrote in Latin, but that was quite separate from the matter at hand.
Again he wondered why he had obeyed his father's command to make an appearance at the party, which, in his opinion, was utterly pointless. The extravagance of it all tired him greatly, and the incessant noises of chattering from people he had never met and could not be bothered to remember brought on a dull throbbing at the back of his head. He had endured the evening with relative patience, but when the tenth lady had looked at him meaningfully, complete with a languorous sway of her body when the waltz started, Dégel knew he needed air and space before he did something for which his father would never forgive him. As he discreetly made his way out of the door into the dark garden, the light and noises fading at his back, cold air hit him in a refreshing thrill. The further he went away from the main house, the clearer his head became, yet at the same time, something started pulling at his heartstring the moment he felt free from roving eyes upon his turned back. At last, when he was completely covered by the thick foliage his father seemed to so love, yet was never there to enjoy, Dégel let out a long suffering sigh and loosened the scarf constricting his neck. Looking up at the night sky and taking in the glittering stars as the gems embedded upon the silky black, a particularly bright flash caught his eyes. It was a faraway star, scarlet in colour and glaring in intensity, one that imposed itself upon his retinas despite the distance. It reminded him of someone whose aura was of a similar character, brilliant and imposing. His heart throbbed at the thought. How he wished that particular someone was here tonight, because then perhaps the music would not appear so loud and the looks would not bother him as much anymore.
The first flake of snow landed on his shoulder, followed by a flurry of tiny white dots, pretty and delicate as petals of flowers from the sky. Dégel observed the new snow with fascination. Snow White, Kardia had said. He wondered why the other man would liken him to such delicate beauty; he was a man, and one well-versed in swordsmanship as well as martial arts at that. Perhaps it was true that he was cold, but he was certain the other understood him for what he was, that once he had become attached to something, he would not be able to bring himself to let go without letting go of a part of himself, and his attachment to Kardia, after all those quiet afternoons spent at their little corner, had long gone past the line of fatality. Even the thought of the man, as he was entertaining right then, made his heart ache with longing, quaint though that sounded. Dégel would often berate himself for letting such irrationality taint his purity of logic, yet in the end, all he could do was watch as his emotions played themselves out, powerless to do anything against his passion. As David Hume put it, 'Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions'. Who was he to refute such indubitable truth, then? Dégel touched his lips with hesitant fingers. They had kissed on the night Kardia took him out for a celebration a week ago, and every day after that, when they parted from their private rendezvous. In a twinkling of time, when no one would look, the other man would place a chaste kiss upon his forehead, followed by another, sweet and filled with unspoken longing, upon his mouth. Time would always stop then, in that small moment, before they pulled away, still feeling as if nothing was ever enough. No word was exchanged about the change in status, because none were needed. Or perhaps there was no change in status after all, for Dégel realised then, that what they were what they had always been and what they had always acted like, an old pair of lovers who were destined to never be together. Dégel reflected upon their strange relationship. Even if it was true that they were never meant to be together, he could not help but think that even so, he would rather have a taste of the forbidden fruit and then fall to hell than never be able to touch the other man at all. The thought brought a full-body shudder, yet Dégel could not find it in him to regret that particular conclusion. If there was one thing he would stand up against society for, it was in relation to that one man, and only that man, and of that he was certain.
A sudden movement within the foliage caught his eyes, followed by the light rustling of leaves. Dégel took a step back and held his walking cane at the ready, the handle clicked open, revealing the concealed blade. A distraction from his previous line of thought was very much welcomed, for he was unsure whether he could bear the remainder of that night thinking of that particular man, while being surrounded by light, drinks and dances. Yet what he saw took his breath away and threatened to turn his knees into jam, for looking straight into his eyes and burning with a fervent flame were indeed eyes of mid-night colour, dark, intense, and violently passionate. The new snow suddenly lost its charm as Dégel's attention became riveted upon the eyes he had known for so long and had been imagining only moments ago, now glowing as a predator's in the dark of the night.
Kardia appeared from behind the bush, tall and clad in dark evening clothing, his back straight, his posture regal. Wild mid-night coloured hair was tied back with a scarlet ribbon, the colour contrast almost glowing in the dark. He wore a simple black domino mask, which obscured little of his glinting eyes, but enough to make it difficult for anyone who was not Dégel to recognise him for who he was. Beneath the starry night sky, he stood as a prince, gazing upon Dégel with such a look of unconcealed passion that, in turn, made Dégel feel as if he was the faithful subject of his kingdom of one man, ready to kneel and let himself be at his lord's command, for at that moment, Kardia was more worthy than any prince or noble he had known, himself included. In one long, deliberate stride, Kardia was already in front of him, his eyes unreadable. He reached forward, and Dégel automatically stepped closer, not knowing what he was doing, and let himself drown in the kiss that ensued. It was long and sweet, yet it was also filled to the brim with unfulfilled desires, dreams and wishes, the way the hand on his back crushed him against Kardia's harder body as if wanting to crush flesh and shatter bones, the way his tongue was coaxed into the other man's mouth as if his soul was willing to be sucked out and die in the process, the way half-closed eyes shone with unrestraint want, boring into his own until Dégel could not take the intensity anymore and had to close his own. His sword-cane clicked shut as he wrapped his own arms around the man's shoulders, pulling himself more and more into the embrace, willing himself to mould into one with the other, for he himself had never realised how much he missed the other man, despite their having seen each other every day, as if they really were a pair of lovers from an eternity ago, so that no amount of physical proximity was enough to make up for the lost time not being near. A hand made its way up his back, threading into the fine hair at the nape of his neck, and Dégel felt the breath he was drawing in through his nose stuck inside his throat. A whimper escaped him, and suddenly the grip on him became much stronger, until he could but sag against the body supporting his in a breathless, shivering mass. As he rested his head against Kardia's shoulder, feeling the heat radiating from the man warming up his chilling cheeks, the embrace became still tighter as Kardia buried his nose into his own neck, an occasional shudder passing through their twin bodies.
'Dégel.' The man spoke in a breathless whisper, his voice drifting into the intimate space between them. 'I really should not have come. Yet in the end, I couldn't resist. How foolish, how naïve, don't you think, for a man to think he could attain the unattainable. I tried, Dégel, how hard I did, yet every time I recalled how much you appeared to desire my company today, and my refusal of your earnest request, peace eluded me. Is it only my blind hope, or is it what you truly wanted of me? So you see, even though I was never able to answer that one question, I still donned my best evening attire and came as a fool, knowing all the while I should not have. I knew nothing good awaited me here, yet I kept using your wish as an excuse to come, while knowing at the same time it is my own wish to be here with you, though it would be a disgrace to introduce me to your society.'
'Hush now, Kardia. Let me speak.' Dégel passed a trembling hand through the tied hair while turning to kiss the man's neck in what he hoped was an assuring gesture, 'I have never been good with expressing my wishes, yet with you I would have thought I had made myself obvious enough for anyone to see. I do confirm that I did want you to attend today's banquet, and still do with the whole of my heart. I found it stifling, and too rowdy for my tastes, despite what you may think about the company. Yet with you, perhaps I would have been better disposed to endure through, for then I would not be able to focus on anything other than your presence. See, Kardia, it is only from my selfishness that I wanted you to come. Pray do not make me divulge this egoistic side of mine anymore than I am obliged to; you are the only person I would not want to know of it. As you said, I am the ice. I can neither be warm, nor affectionate towards anyone, yet pray do not misunderstand my intentions towards you, for I have sinned for you, or for my affection for you, if you prefer, and am willing to do so again if you so wish of me.'
Dégel gasped when he felt a pair of chapped lips behind his ears, trailing a burning mark down the side of his exposed neck, taking away his breath along with a beat of his quivering heart. A hand landed on the top of his head, petting him in what seemed like a comforting gesture coming from a child, clumsy, yet with all the good intentions in the world. It made him weak, yet he could feel his resolve strengthening at the same time, to lean against that one man and let himself be comforted.
'I, too, am not good with people. I am a brute. I am rude and angry; I hurt and drive those closest to me away. Recall, will you, the afternoon I almost pushed you away from me from my own weakness of the will, and hurt your feelings. I prided myself on my own resolve, yet with you, I could never will myself to keep away. The day we first talked, I have said that I preferred Snow White, because it would suit you more, and by that I mean not that you are cold, but that you are easier to melt upon contact with another human than your name suggested, for I know for a fact that you are warm inside, even to someone like me. So if you would bear with a brute such as me, I shall melt your snow even though I may taint and hurt you, and make you sin against God for my own sake…'
'And I repeat that I have already sinned by my own will, and shall do so again, over and over, until you accepted me simply as a man who loves. There, I said it, Kardia! Only, pray do not draw from me as you have drawn away from me, and as you keep drawing away from me. What care do I have of the nobility who could do little more than mindless gossip? Well, let them gossip; let them say that I have sinned, and contemptible, and am an impure creature. They shall not take you away from me, unless you yourself are willing. Stay, Kardia. Would you go so far as to have me on my knees and beg, before you would believe my sincerity?'
With that said with such an impatience as he had never felt before, Dégel nuzzled Kardia's face until he would look him in the eye, before placing a chaste kiss upon his lips. He drew away, breaking the embrace between them and tugging at his hand to signal that he wanted Kardia to follow him into the mansion. The cold assaulted his senses, and he was acutely aware that he missed the other man's burning body temperature against himself, yet in his haste to complete what he was determined to do, Dégel paid little heed to that momentary distraction. His mind was focused on only one thing, and so he acted.
The walk back to the mansion was a quiet one, with Kardia moving silently at his side, never truly touching, yet reassuringly proximate. There was a contemplative look in his eyes, his lips pressing together into a thin line, before he exhaled forcefully. A look akin to wrath passed over his features, before an almost imperceptible change took place. His walk seemed more refined, his head held higher, almost at a condescending angle, his back still straight, yet a practiced grace was added to its soldier-like rigidity, so that in only a blink of an eye, he appeared almost to blend into his surroundings as one of the many nobles, striking in appearance and natural in mannerism and grace. Yet at the same time, Dégel could not but notice that the man stood out, tall and proud, apart from any other petty noble huddling in little groups, chatting away their time in the masquerade. The blend of his wild streak and his aristocratic air was almost addicting, and Dégel knew why the man would deliberately put on a true mask under his half-mask as they approached the house even when he seemed to have no care for the aristocrat whatsoever – nay, he even appeared to detest that kind of affected drama. It touched him as a considerate gesture, yet, at the same time, an uneasy feeling settled in at the change in the presence of the other man, as if someone completely different was wearing the skin of the Kardia he had always known. Though, it was not the time for such petty worry, and so Dégel would not let Kardia's concern materialise, mush as he wished to show off the illustrious man as his friend, whom the mediocrity could never hope to match.
They took the door leading straight to the back staircase to the living quarter, bypassing the grand hall and the grandeur of the banquet altogether. Dégel received a raised eyebrow, before Kardia turned to look behind him with a look of wonderment and narrowed eyes, as if he was seeking someone from the empty garden. It lasted only a second, though, before he turned to follow Dégel into the house without comment. As they made their way towards the staircase, in the glaring light of the dozens of candles along the corridor, Dégel became aware of how prince-like Kardia appeared, in his dark outfit and the domino mask that left his proud nose and strong jaw line visible, in the regal way he held himself, and in the dominating presence he exuded by nature. Yet, all of it made Dégel uneasy; it was as if he was torn between admiration for the man and the desire to shield him from the sinister yet subtle world of the aristocrat, as he had been seeking to do by deliberately avoiding the banquet hall. He knew very well that Kardia was a man who needed no protection from anything, yet he also knew for a fact that the man walking beside him was a candid and straight-forward man whom he would hate to let into the true vicious world in which he himself lived, filled with lies, deceit, and worthless values. If only in order to be able to have Kardia openly in his house as a guest he valued, without having to endure seeing him become the object of their mediocre curiosity, Dégel was ready to remove them all from his estate, to block and bar every single door and window, so that no one with that particular twisted interest could take a peek at his man, one who was promised to him and only him. Or perhaps it was him who haboured the twisted interest, looking up to Kardia as his personal sun, becoming jealous of the most innocent onlooker; yet, after what transpired only moments ago, with him determining that he would be the selfish one and keep his sun close regardless of the consequences, suddenly his heart became free of any lingering doubt. He would bar the upper society away if he had to, but for the moment, the heavy door of his bedchamber would have to suffice.
The corridor of his living quarter was deserted, the servants directed to serve in the masquerade downstairs, so that the only ones present were Dégel and Kardia. The man had been quiet since the walk back from the garden, a thoughtful look upon his countenance, but when the slow melody wafted through the door, tainted by the various noises of conversation and laughter of the crowd, Dégel could not miss the brief look of pure contempt Kardia had casted around; it was not the look of congealed ice he himself had mastered, but one from the depths of hell, with flame burning high within, threatening to consume all in a fury fit for the purgatory itself. That strange situation stretched for a fleeting moment, before eyes darker than night were directed on himself again in an unwavering stare, as if Kardia was trying to read into his very soul. It was unnerving, yet at the same time, it had been satisfying to know whatever negative emotion that Kardia had haboured right then could not detract the man from himself, and that had been enough for him.
They stood before the foreboding door in silence, Dégel's hand hovering over the handle in limbo. It stayed, then shook, before he steeled himself and pushed on. The handle was turned, yet before the door was pushed open, a hand on his arm had stopped him where he was.
'Do not let me lead your life astray.'
As Kardia said that, those eyes he adored bore into his own, pinning him on the spot, and for a moment, Dégel almost forgot what he was going to do. Yet, the repeated words that had stunned him before now struck as a flint for his anger. It was a sense of half indignation, half disbelief that after all was said and done, Kardia would still not believe his resolve. Was it his aversion to the nobility, or his concern for Dégel himself, he knew not, yet in that particular moment, it had felt like an insult that cut deeply, because he could see, too, that in Kardia's eyes, there was such undisguised desire as he had never seen before, one that made him blush furiously and feeling as if the ground had been taken from underneath his feet. In the end, though, he was a selfish creature, and to the man full of contradictions before him, Dégel had determined that there was no room for doubt anymore.
Gripping onto the hand on his arm with bruising force, Dégel pulled Kardia through the opened door into his room, before locking it. He placed his hands on the man's shoulder, and with a hard look that could well have been a glare, pinned him in place.
'I remember, at about this time last week, you have told me the same thing. Well, Kardia, am I merely another noble to you, for you to think you are leading my life astray, when all that you have been doing is show me kindness, or, even if I'm deluding myself, love? So tell me, do you think so little of me that you think this is your leading my life astray? Pray tell, have I not shown you enough that I adore you to the point of fatality, so that though I cannot ameliorate your pain, I am willing to suffer with you through an eternity in hell? How many times we have touched now, and still can you not see I crave the contact of your skin? Or, perhaps, you think me cold and incapable of love, as they do, that there is no sense in coming closer? Or, if it's because of me not acting perverse and pushing you away, that I am loose and my behaviour light? But if neither of those things, then accept my passion, and pledge yourself to me, and in turn, let me to you! Care not for virtues, sins, and the such; pray, do not belittle me so; what I have sought, I shall endure.'
There was a blank at first, as Kardia gazed at him, as if he was in a daze. Then, suddenly, and almost violently, Dégel was yanked forward by a hand on his face and another at the small of his back. There was harsh breathing upon his cheek, and directly before his eyes were burning blue eyes, serious, and at the same time, delirious from the maelstrom of emotions swirling within. A trembling hand brushed his cheek, and clinging to his forehead were strands of midnight-coloured hair, their locks mixing together as did their feelings.
'Then I shall take what you have to offer, Dégel my dear, for I have longed for you for much longer than you have ever been aware, and shall not hold myself back now, now that you have confirmed that I will not hurt you by being near to you. And thus I shall repeat to you, take it, then, all of it for a blue rose.'
They kissed, once, full of urgency, frustration, unfulfilled desires; twice, for longing, silent promises, apologies, forgiveness; and thrice, filled to the brim with tenderness, need, unconcealed yearning. It was an unspoken confession, quiet acceptance, indifference to the consequences. Hands started roaming, up and down the planes of a broad back, taking off the ties on flowing teal-coloured hair, sheepishly skirting the side of a corded neck, passing over one's fair cheek to tuck a stray lock behind a colouring ear. The flutter of thick lashes upon snow-white cheeks was captured in eyes dark with ardour, and chapped lips moved over satiny skin to nibble on a quivering ear, now pink with both want and embarrassment. At some point during the haze, they had moved over to the long sofa, so that with only the tiniest of tipping of the balance, one collapsed upon another onto it, still tangled in limbs and locks of hair. A dark coat, embroidered in gold threads and pinned with the proud coat of arms of a noble family, fell unceremoniously onto the floor with a muffled noise, followed by another, black in its entirety, stronger in make, yet equally elegant in cut. White scarves fell upon the armrest, before a collar was opened, the chemise exposed. A callused hand found its way underneath the silk, smoothing over white skin in butterfly-light touches. The cords in the swan-like neck jumped as one swallowed, the gasp smothered by another kiss, drawn out in a desperate dance. Tongues moved against each other, frantic and languorous all at once; flavours were exchanged, again and again, until it became impossible to tell where one began and the other ended, the tastes of the new snow, of the summer heat, of very old whiskey, and of residue blood mixing together in an intoxicating liqueur that threatened to overwhelm the both of them, yet so that neither could pull away even if they had wanted to. Breaths mingled in one exhale, legs draped over legs, bodies glued together, arms circling the other's back in a bone-crushing embrace, they moved together as one even as the masks and barriers, one by one, were removed, until there was nothing left between them but themselves.
'Well now,' parting from the kiss with difficulty, eyes still half-lidded with pleasure, Dégel had to dig his fingers into the fine ridges of shoulders before him to steel himself, 'I shall ask again, though it pains me to have to ask, must you have me on my knees before you would accept all of me, or have you believed that I shall, here, now, commit this sin with my heart at peace, because I have loved?'
The man under him stilled, and no other word was exchanged, but the silence had been more than enough, for gazing directly at him were eyes suddenly full of sorrow, but also of incomparable joy, ones that poured warmth directly into the void of his chest, to fill up his heart to the brim with corresponding delight. The breath was taken away from him as a gentle smile appeared, more genuine than he had ever seen and brighter than the sun on a light summer day, and in the dark, under the flickering light of a thousand stars from the window, the sight had been more beautiful than the most perfect scenery in the world. With a jolt, he became suddenly painfully aware of himself, and a rush of embarrassment brought in a wave of light-headedness, so that even as he swayed on the spot, a sense of delirium started to creep up in the form of a scarlet blush high on his cheeks. He could feel the corded muscles in the burning body underneath him move as a warm hand reached round to steady his back. The smile became only a tad bit teasing, and Dégel found himself being lowered onto the sofa, the rough texture of the fabric causing tiny bouts of shiver to run over his over-sensitive skin. Wordlessly, every inch of skin upon his body was worshipped in a silent prayer, mouth and hands moving, caressing, claiming, marking, and Dégel was drowned in a sea of lust, his body reduced to a shivering mass that would not obey. At some point during his mindless float, Dégel vaguely registered pain in a place he never even realised existed, one that brought a furious blush to his face that spread down his neck. There were soft whimpering noises, lilting in unnamed melodies, drifting in and out of his consciousness, until a dark chuckle awoken him to the fact that it was he himself who was making the noises, and the blush returned with a shade that resembled a rose upon the snowy ground. Dégel closed his eyes and turned his head away, hoping to hide his blush away from the man hovering directly above. Another quiet chuckle was heard immediately above his ear, and suddenly the pain intensified, though the moan was stuck in his throat at a look from eyes darker than night gazing into his very soul. Then the breathing upon his neck became that much harsher, the sound choked, and in that instant Dégel realised that yet again, he was being spoilt by Kardia, his excessive shyness spared from the trial to which it should have been subject. Concern and irritation warred within his mind, before determination settled in as dominant. Dégel gently pushed the man on his chest to let up, took both of Kardia's hands and kissed them by the palm, the back and on each knuckle with reverent care. Holding them against his own body with one hand, he used the other to reach around, rubbing comforting circles on the now panting man's back, over and over, until his breathing slowed, all the while looking straight into his eyes, his gaze unlowered, as if trying to pour all of his determination into that one single look. When the only sounds in the room became those of controlled breathing, with all the care in the world, Dégel reversed their position, pulling the man up with him as he straddled his lap. The eye contact between them never broke, and the lack of words made it that much more intense, so that when Dégel lowered himself onto his lover, the wind was knocked out of the both of them as a physical attack. Arms wrapped themselves around his back, fingers threading into the swaying fall of hair, as chapped lips pressed kiss after kiss upon the thrumming pulse of his throat, and Dégel knew he was home.
They made love, slow and sweet and long, skin upon skin, lips upon lips, their hair mingled and their eyes never leaving each other's. In the void of the night, their voices rang like prayers, softly and then harshly, and they stopped, and breathed, and then the waltz would begin again, over and over, until they both reached their crest after their reunion of an eternity. Kardia would gasp for air, and Dégel would blow into his mouth whatever air he had, as he would a drowning man, but deep down, they both knew that the one truly drowning was Dégel himself, and as he drowned, he was beyond salvation. At some point neither knew which, the world turned white about them; they fell and they fell; there was simply no stopping point for them, they who willingly sinned, but who, for the duration of which, knew they had found heaven. For however long that it lasted, the sin had tasted like bliss for the two men.
In the aftermath, as they sat tangled in each other, legs draped over legs, bodies glued together, Dégel nuzzled his face into the crook of the other man's neck, feeling very much like a contented cat after its dish of cream. A burning hand petted his bare thigh, strong chin rested upon the crown of his head, and an occasional contented sigh was heard in the dead of the night. Suddenly feeling mischievous, Dégel tried pressing a butterfly kiss into the hollow of the bronzed neck, before raining touches light as feather over his collar bone, tasting sweat and musk and something that resembled sunlight. At the touch, the hand on his thigh clamped down, before moving to pet the back of his head, much like it had done earlier that night, only with more ease, as though Kardia had become used to the practice. A throaty chuckle was heard, and in a voice so low it blended into the darkness of the room:
'If thou continuest, I shan't be able to go back tonight, thy minx.'
The tone was teasing, yet the blue eyes that were gazing down at him, once again darkened to a deep shade of sapphire, were serious. Pain stabbed his heart, and Dégel frowned, yet he knew better than to covet for more than his good fortune permitted. Once and it should have been enough for an eternity of waiting; the night was still young, yet it was foolish to hope for the the whole of the night to themselves, just as it was foolish to test the grace of heavens. Nonetheless, despite the knowledge, despite his rationality, Dégel wanted nothing more than to cling to his personal piece of heaven and never let go, to bask in his warmth and to bear the pain together, for when he felt, he felt more than anyone never would, and now to separate after tasting the forbidden fruit would be to send him into the million year exile; it was as if a piece of himself was being taken away.
'Don't be so upset, Dégel, for I am not going to disappear from your life forever, and this is absolutely not farewell. We shall see each other again, tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, as we have promised. So what does it matter if the night is not ours? We have the afternoons, and if you would allow me, many nights afterwards. This is only the beginning, no?'
The voice he had come to love woke him from his dark thoughts, and as though under a spell, the few simple words lifted the shadow from his mind. Hope raised his spirit, and Dégel wondered since when he had become so easily affected by that one man, his deepest emotions swayed by only a few words. Lifting his face, he granted the other man a small genuine smile, before pushing away to stand up, his hand trailing a line across golden skin, loving the way hard muscles jumped beneath the tips of his fingers. Though a look of sudden loss flitted across dark eyes, Dégel chose not to acknowledge it, and let Kardia have the last word on the matter, feeling content just to know that he was not the only one.
They dressed in silence, stealing caresses whenever they could, as if no amount of physical contact could quench the thirst for proximity, once they have learnt what closeness was like. Seeing the mask was crooked as Kardia placed it back over his eyes, Dégel smiled, and before he knew what he was doing, reached up to right it. His hand was caught in a larger one, and pressed against the rough skin of Kardia's cheek. They stood as statues, grief suffusing into the air around them, before being broken by a gentle smile; after all, they still had forever to look forward to, in the form of the bright afternoons at their little white café, surrounded by light and wind and aroma.
They inched closer for the last kiss, but a knock on the door came as a thunder in Dégel's ears at the last instant. He pushed away, panic settling in wave after wave, for he could not let his family see the man in his room at any cost.
'Shush, Dégel. I must go now through the balcony, but I shall wait for you tomorrow at the café. Worry not, for I have done this before – this small trick poses me no danger. Only, join the banquet, but let no one catch your eyes. For now, go; I shall wait for you tomorrow.'
The kiss was almost non-existent, a mere hasty brush of the lips that left much wanting, before the dark mane of hair disappeared down his balcony. Concern seized his heart, yet Dégel knew better than to go after the man when there was still someone waiting on the other side of the door, who was probably getting suspicious of the whole situation. Thus quenching his fear, he went to open the door, only to see one of the servants standing there looking nervous.
'The young master Unity told me to look for you, sir. He was concerned that you were not at the party, and that perhaps you were not feeling your best.'
The young man squirmed at the cold stare he received, before Dégel turned.
'Then you may tell Unity that I am indeed feeling a little faint, and am resting for a bit. But do tell him not to worry himself over me; I shall be back in a moment; my headache is already improving, and the night is still young.'
With that, he closed the door and leaned against it, before bolting through the open door for the balcony. A draught wafted in, blowing with it the light curtains, which billowed in flickering ominous shades. For no reason at all, Dégel felt the chill creeping down his spine, dropping into the pit of his stomach as he gazed at the darkness spanning between the house and the woods nearby. A feeling of foreboding overcame him as he tried to make out the outline of a broad back somewhere in the shadows, but failed. There he stood, his hand gripping the handrail, his feet glued to the ground, utterly refusing to move, for how long no one knew. The sense of despair was one he was accustomed to, even as his senses became sharper, his skin tingling with the night chill, his vision piercing, and his hearing picking up the sound of music and chatter from the masquerade downstairs. There was a vague thought in his mind, one that he could not grasp, tried as he might. It weighed him down, keeping him immobile on the spot even as his eyes frantically searched for anything moving in the distance. It became hard to breathe, but still Dégel strained his eyes, until a loud noise jolted him out of the trance in which he had been captured. His heart missed a beat the moment he realised what the noise was; it was a gunshot, somewhere near the point where the woods ended and the road back to town began, one that seemed to have torn a hole in his heart by the way it made him stagger back in absolute terror.
Dégel could feel the blood draining from his face as he rushed out of the room in a limp, his back smarting and his knees weak, but which, at the moment, he could not spare half a mind for. Down the stairs, into the garden, he could see several men running in the direction of the shot, all bearing arms, and one running towards himself. The man was his brother.
'What happened?'
'It seems a burglar was sighted in the woods. Thank the heavens you are alright; since you disappeared I had thought it could perhaps be you.'
'I am well. But the… intruder! Where is he now? Is he seen?'
'I know not, but I am thinking to go and see for myself.' Unity paused to really look at his brother, before he frowned. Taking a hold of Dégel's arm to prevent him from going there directly, he spoke with grave concern – 'You are very pale, and your lips are almost blue. Pray do not go! You must rest here. I shall bring the thief back shortly.'
'No! I can go with you; release me, Unity! I must go and see what happened there!'
There was a pause, during which the two brothers glared at each other, Dégel with a terrible anger he knew not where from, and Unity with utter surprise, followed by indignation. Finally, with an incredulous look, Unity dropped the hand holding his brother in place. He turned and started towards the woods, his eyes dark, the irises glinting as quicksilver in the shadow.
'Very well, then. Though I must warn you, brother, do not display your interest in such a criminal so obviously. Burglary at night is a non-clergyable felony punishable by death by hanging, if the criminal has not been shot dead yet, though that too is old information for you.'
In his shock at hearing the last sentence, Dégel had missed the discrete smile his brother hid away with the shade of the night. For the briefest of moment, icy blue eyes flashed with pure hatred, his mouth twisted into an ugly grimace, before it tugged up at the corner into a cruel smile. Dégel, on the other hand, was left in a state of utter confusion even as he made his way towards the scene, his mind numb from fear and concern. Being the master of self-control as he was, in the end, he could not stop the occasional bouts of tremble that wracked his whole body. The sense of despair intensified with each step he took, until it became a beast gnawing at his heart from the inside. It hurt, yet at the same time, he could not stop moving, as if pulled forward by a supernatural force he could not resist, for in the end, there was no other choice but to move. Dégel became a spectator in his body, witnessing himself going forward, step by heavy step, while wallowing in indescribable agony inside. He was drowning again, only in a different kind of emotion, tinged with terror at the possibility of seeing the corpse of the man he loved and what seemed like despondency about everything else.
It was thus that Dégel moved into the dark woods, following the silvery streak of his brother's lustrous hair, submerged in dead silence.