The rain patted the windowpane, holding no difference to the passing of time. In the midst of all this Louis could hear whispers, beckoning from a nearby corridor. The man paused with the book, he had been reading. His attention had scattered all too quickly. A strap of braided cloth - which had laid there for mending purposes - was used as a bookmark and with that, he left the old library.
Louis had known that voice... So certain to whom it could have belonged.
The man slowly traversed inside the dim hallway as if it could have been an unseen plane of existence, fearsome, yet exciting him with premonitions. The echoing whispers became indistinguishable. They morphed together with the rain's symphony. In doing so, they exhausted nature's guidance to the last bone, sucking it dry... It was all so whimsical. Nothing more than a game and to this day Louis fell for that game, quickening his pace in delirious anticipation. The guest room was empty...
Louis' eyes stalked the barren surroundings of the caramel-dyed room. Eventually, he came up with nothing, save for a parted window in the far end. He sighed in defeat. How restless his mind had become over these years of his absence... The man's fingers paused, as he was in the process of latching the window shut from the horrid wind. How odd... To think that more than a year passed, since William had fallen down the London Bridge. He was alive - that was Louis' only solace. It served him as a mantra, which he gladly repeated, when things got out of hand and when his loneliness peeked its dented little head. Whether this delirium helped him, remained unsure... In fact, William hadn't returned, even if he was alive and well, Louis remained on the outside, caged in this maze of memories and longing, all compressed by his selfishness and need... He should not feel this way. After all, didn't William build this world for him?
Louis pinched on his bottom lip, before his hands like practiced marionettes drew the curtains over the window, hiding the storm. This was ludicrous; but he could not fight it...
Suddenly, there was a creak at the front door. Louis turned his head back at the shade in skepticism. His doubts were quickly dispelled, when a voice called from the entranceway.
"Is anyone home?"
Louis stood in shock, baffled. That was only for a short moment, since the gears in his mind placed the well-known voice to its owner. With a brief inspection out of the way, Louis went to greet his guest.
"Watson-san, it's nice to see you on such short notice." The blonde said, after he saw the damp man, standing in the manor's hall. Apparently, the doctor had an umbrella - the soaked object rested against his knee, but his clothes were still matted, both the coat and trousers. Right now John fiddled with the auburn coat's buttons, unsure of what to do. Louis bud in. "Let me get that for you."
"A-ah, thank you."
"Would you like some tea, Watson-san?"
"Ahm..." The other scratched his head, not used to such hospitality. Louis added, after he hung the coat and placed the umbrella in a proper basket.
"If you're not in a hurry, of course."
"That would be nice, but... I would not like to intrude. It's only a small matter."
"A small matter for you to come here throughout this weather?" Louis elaborated, with narrowed eyes. "I apologise, that's hard to believe... I would enjoy your company, if you could."
"Fine then."
Louis nodded and gave a motion for the other to follow him. They went back inside the hall, where it seemed, like the rain plummeted all around, attacking the abode with no mercy. Strangely enough, it reminded Louis of a long-lost memory...
X X X
"It's raining..." Louis murmured all those years ago... He and William were but small children back then, living under Albert's generosity and his parents' graces... The boy's legs swung below the hard, ragged bed, not entirely able to reach the floor. He ogled the drips, falling into the middle of the room from the cracks in the ceiling. His livid eyes could not part from this occurrence, not that he hadn't seen this before but due to the circumstances around it. A faint glow barely reached the table, which had been pulled near the window, so not much light had been given and most of the room remained veiled by gloom. Still, on the opposite side, his brother William persistently squinted his eyes, trying to make out letters in the book, he borrowed. By the way his eyes twitched and furrowed, Louis could tell William's attention was waning. And so he rubbed his hands against the rough covers.
"Brother, why do you think they gave us this room?"
William raised his crimson eyes.
"I don't know, Louis."
"They have so many places downstairs."
"Ah." William closed the book on his lap, whilst his gaze dropped. His voice remained even. "They view us as pests, maybe that's why. We're nothing more than an inconvenience to them."
"Then why had Albert's parents let us stay here?"
"It had to do a lot with their son's influence."
"But then..."
"Hmm?"
"This is not right..." Louis muttered, looking away. "None of this is."
"I know, Louis."
The brother looked up. William smiled at his dumbfounded expression, before coming closer to sit on the bed next to him. Louis scooted to the side a bit and William pushed a shoulder against his.
"You have to say this is a tad better than sleeping on the streets." Louis did not answer, biting on the inside of his cheek. William's smile had grown bitter. "There is no right in this world, as it stands... I'm beginning to doubt that decision myself. Sometimes neither one of our choices is good..."
"We just have to fight through, right?"
"Ah, like always, Louis..." William nodded, before nuzzling his cheek against his brother's. "There's only the two of us."
Louis leaned into the touch. However, a giggle escaped him, when a side of William's hair brushed through his cheek, repeatedly.
"Hey, that tickles!"
"Ah... It's only the two of us."
Louis nodded, his chapped fingers searching to grip his brother's shoulder, envelop him in a loose hug. Outside, the rain pelted, invading their broken sanctuary. He knew, that another day will rise with new expectations and unheard insults or perhaps all of them had morphed into routine by this point. There was but one thing he cherished of this repetition.
He turned silently and with the appearance of another drop, landed a peck on William's cheek. The other paused and Louis instantly flushed.
"Ah. O-oh, I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"Uhm. I didn't mean to do that." He hastily dislodged his heated hands, desperately waving them in the air. William stared at the younger brother, dumbfounded. Loss of warmth peeled at him like rotten remnants. Just now he noticed, how cold it had gotten. A slight shiver broke his posture and William enquired.
"You used to do this before, didn't you?"
"We... Eh..." Louis lost his voice and so William filled in for him, whilst rubbing his own shoulder.
"You used to kiss me goodnight. I always wondered, why you stopped. It's just a gesture, isn't it?" He asked, spying on his brother's slight fidgeting with the dusty covers. Truth be told, William had a notion to the answer and according to him, this wasn't always intended as a harmless gesture... But William left that part out. Louis was already uncomfortable. It wouldn't do them good to start fracturing their bond. But small changes never hurt... And this possessiveness, as William had gathered, was nothing more than a slight breeze. William slowly pushed himself closer to Louis.
"Come here."
"E-eh?"
"Could you kiss me again? I miss that." He shrugged nonchalantly. Louis' face reddened and William prodded again, tapping his brother's knees. "Come on. Please."
He made it seem so innocent... A sheepish smile was plastered on his lips and Louis blinked for confirmation a couple of times. He parted his mouth, once, twice, yet nothing managed to be spilled.
The rain was his only witness...
William didn't seem to judge him either...
Louis gulped. Then why had it still felt so crushing? His heart struck heavy, his mind buzzed, replaying his brother's words. In the end, Louis leaned in. The boy felt William's breath collapsing on his flesh, they seemed so fragile, liable to cease, to shift. Those soothing exhales continued, when he placed his hands on William's pallid cheeks, feeling the coldness underneath, not much different than if he were to touch ice. Their gazes stayed locked, anticipating, waiting for the upcoming. Louis felt like his brother's irises pierced straight into him. If that was the case, they might have gotten a whiff of his insides, his desires...Would it have been easier, if they stayed closed?
The rain stole the passing seconds.
After quieting his ardent mind, Louis captured William's lips. The younger boy's posture had been stiff. Those shoulders had kept him upright on their own... Meanwhile, Louis' insides had melted, a wave of wholeness crashed at him after, bringing calm, besides their tender breaths. William's lips were so soft, like silk, like cotton... Louis never wanted to let them go.
"There. Thank you." William proclaimed, once they separated. Louis' fingers traveled to caress his own lips, but he had little time to overthink, what had happened, since William pushed the boy's head to lie against his chest - finally William attained the desired warmth. In the meantime his palms rubbed Louis' strained shoulders, slightly clutching them for reassurance. William's voice flew out.
"You know, I'd love to do this again someday... Sooner than later."
"Brother..."
"I loved the feeling of it. And if you won't leave me-"
"You know, I'd never do that." Louis interjected, meekly.
"Ah..." - Was the final note, expelled between them. Everything else had been drowned out.
X X X
"Louis-san..." A soft inquiry woke him from the recollection. Louis sniffed, fighting off the clam in his nose, before turning to face his guest. The large dim window had gone from his sight. John Watson stared at him, curiously, whilst the doctor's fingers rose the cup and the plate in his hold. "You've been quiet for a bit."
"Ah. I got lost in a daydream, that's all." Louis sighed, before rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Say, Watson-san, what was it you came here for?"
"Oh... That..." He smiled bitterly, placing down the now bare cup with a soft cling. It seemed to nudge his beating heart to rest. "I thought you had some knowledge about them..."
"You're talking about Sherlock-san specifically." Louis corrected.
"No. Both."
"Haah... If I would have had any information, I would not have sat so idly." Louis shook his head in defeat. A deep sigh left John as if dragging out all his leftover spirit.
"I suppose..."
"I don't think it's smart to ask anything of me, Watson-san."
"Why so?"
"You see, if my brother is intending to keep me in the dark, that will remain, until the whole London will sing. I'll be clueless to the bitter end..." He finished in a whisper. John narrowed his eyes. He could not keep quiet around this.
"Why is that? If you're as dear to William-san, as I suspect," Louis tensed at that phrase, but said nothing. John continued. "there's no way, he would treat you this way... I can imagine, what pain you're going through."
Straight after that, Louis shifted his gaze to an ivory corner, trying to push those words as far away from his mind. It didn't help, that they had infected his sleeping hours, but being reminded of his needlessness by someone else was excruciating.
"Louis-san?"
"Ah... I guess you're a writer for a reason. I can't hide from you, can I?" – A painful smirk. Before long his body leaned uncomfortably in the seat as if pins waited for him there. "I read that book of yours. The way you captured everything is a bit... torturous..."
"O-oh..."
"Too truthful, too painful to recall. And I still keep a volume in my library, as a reminder."
"I don't know, whether to feel guilty or flattered." John lamented.
"It's a compliment, take it as such. You have nothing to feel guilty for."
"Ahm. Thank you, I guess."
Their chat descended into silence. Louis' tea had grown cold, as he refrained from touching it. In the meantime, he stared at the nearby window, at the shaded outside and the dull mosaic on the glass. There was a glint in his eyes, his eyebrows twitched from time to time too, attempting to push something off his mind. Finally, the hoarse voice was let loose.
"Sometimes I wonder, whether it captured the reality better than my memories."
"What do you mean?" John was lost at this.
"Your novel... There are some things missing there."
"Missing?" A cock of an eyebrow.
"Yes. Personal things, ones, you had no knowledge of... which I think is for the best. They might have been false to begin with." He left his mouth ajar. "You see... I loved William more than a brother... more than our society could allow and name."
"Huh?"
"I don't intend for you to understand." He flicked his fingers in the air, carelessly. This must have been a mistake in the first place. Louis' cheeks were flushed lightly and his mind was begging for the ungrateful lips to shut up. Unbeknownst, John sat straight with peeled eyes and a sympathetic nod.
"No, it's okay. Please, carry on."
"Uhm... W-what I meant to say was... It's better, if those memories would be erased. To this day I can't understand, whether brother responded to my affection with love or simple obligation to make me happy... He was like that for as much as I could remember: always caring and sacrificing for others' sake. Those moments surely stood as nothing, but mundane in his mind. As they should... After all, that brother gave me, I could not ask him to return my desires... It was selfish..." A needy pause broke his speech apart with a wet click from his teeth. With the way his lungs constricted, it was getting hard to speak, a muffled phrase served, as his last encore. "I drowned in it."
For a moment there was no answer from John's end, as he took in this new information. Louis on the other hand was beginning to berate himself for even opening his mouth in the first place... Had the loneliness finally fractured him?
"You think, your feelings were untrue, is that it, Louis-san?"
"I doubt them..."
"You shouldn't." John's fists were clenched on the table. His gaze pierced the other male. "Louis-san, you... You shouldn't question your heart."
"They are lies..."
"They're not." John shook his head. Without meaning to, his body was pushed upright and wavered a bit from indecisiveness. He went to stand in front of Louis after, his fingers haphazardly catching the blonde's palm, clenching it. "What I wrote will stand as nothing more than fiction. It can never replace the feelings you had. Louis-san, you can't forget them. For your own sake... For William's sake, when he returns."
"If he returns..." Louis fixed the doctor with a blank stare.
"He will... both him and Sherlock. They will return. Trust me, Louis-san, and give it time." With one last squeeze, John let go of the other's palm. His own fingers were getting rigid and sweaty. He straightened. As the rain built another symphony around them, John's thoughts finally caught up. Right now, a light squirming awoke in his stomach. Along with that came comfort, that Louis chose to share something this close to heart... John exhaled a stammering breath, whilst a small, satisfactory smile graced his lips. He now had someone to trust. They both did... Louis looked up, setting a blank gaze onto John once more.
"Thank you... Watson-san..."